Mr. President 2(218)

“Reese, I don’t get it either. But I want to figure it out. With you.”

He grins, flipping me onto my back and pinning my hands above my head. “Good. Because I was going to have to resort to bribing you with cooking gourmet meals.”

I narrow my eyes. “You cook?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? You, my friend, have a new roommate.” I can’t help laughing at his expression. “So when is dinner?”

He gives me a wicked grin as he starts kissing down my stomach. My satisfied body is suddenly needy all over again as his mouth settles on my pussy.

I moan as he expertly drives me wild with his tongue, crying out in frustration when he lifts his head.

“What?” he asks innocently. “I thought you wanted dinner.”

I push his head back down, laughing. “I’ll settle for dessert.”

He practically growls. “Me too.”