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His Plaything(18)

By:Ava Jackson


Avery's eyes fluttered—then snapped fully open at the sight of me. She gave a shrill yelp and yanked her robe back around her gorgeous body. “W-what … Nixon! What the hell? Why don’t you ever fucking knock?” she yelled, struggling to tie the belt shut.

“I, uh … heard noises coming from your room. I was worried.”

“You really think I'm dumb enough to believe that?” She snatched up a pillow and threw it at me. It fell short by almost a foot. “Get out!”

Okay, that wasn't the best excuse I've ever come up with … but I'm not letting this chance slip away. Her glare wavered as I stalked closer, pinning her with my heated gaze. “Really? It looks like you could use some help getting off. I'd be happy to lend a hand.” I licked my lips with a slight smile. “Or a tongue.”

Her eyes darkened and flashed on mine. Her lashes fluttered—she had looked down, just for a split second, fast enough that I could have mistaken it for shyness. But there was no way she could miss the raging bulge in my jeans. She was fighting with herself. And that meant some part of her was actually considering my offer.

The air felt as thick and heavy as a gathering thunderstorm. Taking a chance, I sat down beside Avery on the bed, keeping my feet on the floor. Not touching her—not yet. But I was still close enough to smell her arousal. The few inches of space between us crackled with sexual energy. Soon, I intended to close that distance altogether.

“You … I had everything under control,” she said, trying to sound indignant. But her voice shook and I could hear a ragged undertone of need. And she hadn't pulled back. She hadn't even ordered me off the bed.

I shook my head, unable to hold back a smirk. “You can't hide from me. I saw you with your fingers buried in your cunt, remember?”

She gave the tiniest, cutest squeak of embarrassment I'd ever heard. With an effort, I forced myself back to the task at hand. So to speak. “I know what a woman looks like when she's coming, and you weren't anywhere near it.”

Her rosy lips—almost the same color as her nipples, I couldn't help but notice—pressed into a thin line. “Right. How could I forget your godlike expertise? I guess even you can learn something about women when you've screwed enough to fill a phone book.” And I'm just the latest in that long line, she didn't have to add.

Shit, I'd said the exact wrong thing. I silently cursed my junior teammate's big mouth. “Okay, granted, Fox wasn't lying yesterday. I've had my share of wild and crazy times.” I reached out to rest my hand on hers. “But right now, though … all I'm thinking about is you.” And your gorgeous, tight little pussy that looks good enough to eat.

If she had flinched or looked away, that would have been the end of it. But she just watched me, wide-eyed and barely breathing. Like she was daring me to speak. Like an alley cat, a half-wild thing, her skittishness perfectly balanced with her curiosity and desire. Whatever I did next would decide everything. The slightest mistake could tip her mental scales and send her into flight. Or fight, given what I'd seen of her fiery streak.

Taking another leap of faith, I lifted her still-wet fingers to my nose. She blinked, expression flashing from confusion to shock, but she didn't pull back her hand. My eyes slid shut as I inhaled her sweet, heady musk. Just the scent of her arousal felt like a shot of tequila, clouding my mind and burning all the way down past my stomach. My cock strained against my zipper. Before I knew it, my lips had closed around her fingers. I took them deep, sucking and licking to get every tangy drop, wishing I could taste her juices at the source instead.

She whimpered, and I almost moaned in response. Oh, fuck—one hit and I was addicted. I wanted to pull that sweet little noise from her lips again and again. Her already-huge eyes had widened even further, their beautiful jade green almost eclipsed by black pupils. She was completely captivated. All the cautious judgment in her stare had evaporated, leaving only lust. Pure surrender.

Knowing she wouldn't lie now, I asked, “How long has it been since you've come?” My lips brushed her fingers as I spoke.

Her own lips parted, caught off guard by the question. But she never broke my gaze. Eventually, reluctantly, she answered: “A while.”

That's a crime against humanity if I've ever heard one. My mind was racing, leaping from image to image in a haze of lust. Avery's expression of mixed shock and desire when she'd walked in on me fucking Pam. Our first dinner together, when she'd told me such painful secrets without letting her brave smile falter. Bouncing down the hallway naked and dripping from the shower. Taunting me by flirting with my friends in that criminally fuckable outfit. Ever since last Saturday, it felt like I'd been constantly rock hard, just waiting for the chance to have her. And nothing helped. I had intensified my workout routines and started jacking off twice a day, like I was a goddamn teenager again, but I still couldn't shut this obsession down. Even when I went out to the bars, where I could snag any frog hog I wanted, none of the women I saw set my blood on fire like the mere thought of Avery did.