Birthday Girl Page 44

I close my eyes, emptying my lungs and feeling her everywhere. “Jordan,” I whisper.

My dick immediately swells, and I feel it growing hard at just the sound of her name. She kissed me back last night. She’s attracted to me, too. Does she fantasize about me?

I harden even more at the thought of her in bed, thinking about me. Wanting me.

I fist my cock, because it’s aching so badly, but I stroke it on accident, and I groan at how good it feels.

She fills my head, and I swear I can smell her. She’s so close.

I stroke myself, giving into the fantasy.

I’m in bed, and it’s pitch black in the room. A knock sounds on my door, and I stir, sitting up.

“Yeah?” I say, bending one leg at the knee and resting an arm on it.

Jordan pushes open the door, and I can only tell it’s her by the glimpse of her golden hair.

“What’s wrong?” I say gently.

I’m naked under the sheet, but she can’t see anything.

“It’s storming,” she says, lingering at the door frame. “Can I sleep with you?”

Lightning flashes through the windows, lighting up her body, and I catch glimpses of her naked legs and sweet face. The water continues to pour over me, and my cock in my hand gets longer. Reality slips away as I dive, chasing the only thing I’ll be able to have of her.

Whatever’s in my dreams.

“Come here,” I whisper.

She hurries over to the side of the bed, and I peel back the covers for her.

Sliding in, she huddles close to me, and I put my arm around her, feeling her leg come over mine. My hands roam, and all I feel is bare tummy and thighs. She’s barely wearing anything.

“Jordan…” I pant.

God, her skin is so soft, and she feels so good.

“I’m cold,” she says, her breath caressing my jaw. “Is this okay?”

My thigh sits between her legs, and I can feel the heat pouring out of her. I tuck her closer. “Come here.”

I rub her thighs and hips, up her back and keep her nose buried in my neck. Every inch of her is like an electric current to my dick.

I stroke slower but hold it tighter, like I imagine her.

“Is that better?” I ask her.

She nods, her lips inches from mine.

“Your mouth is even warmer, though,” she tells me, feeling my breath on her. “It’s the warmest part of you.”

I fight to hide my smile. Who am I not to give my girl what she needs?

Turning her over onto her back, I keep running my hands up and down her body, but I start hovering my mouth over her skin, too. Breathing out hot breaths across her neck and through her black half-shirt, over her breasts and the hard nipples through the fabric calling to me, but I resist. I trail down her stomach, running my lips over her belly button, and for a moment, my teeth come out, dying to take a piece of her in my mouth, but she moans, and I look up, seeing the mounds of her breasts peek out from under the bottom of her little shirt.

Shower water spills over my face and streams off my chin, and I want this to be real. I want her in my fucking bed.

“Better?” I ask her.

She nods, her eyes still closed. “Mmm-hmmm,” she says. “Can you keep doing it, though? I’m still cold.”

Hell yes. I take her thighs as I roll over onto my back, bringing her on top of me.

“Come here, baby.”

I can’t have all of her, but I’ll take this.

I rub her thighs and slide my hands farther up her body, teasing her just under the shirt.

She wears a black top and black panties, and I joke, “I thought you liked pink.”

I can’t see her smile, but I hear it in her voice. “You want pink?” she taunts.

And then she pulls up her short shirt, settling it just above her beautiful breasts. She grazes the nipples, showing me where her pink is.

I shoot up, wrap my arm around her waist, and take one in my mouth, tugging on it and then sucking it into my mouth.

I feel the blood rushing to my cock, and I’m so close already. I open my mouth, like I can actually feel her soft skin between my teeth.

Jesus, I want to know how she really tastes.

“Warmer?” I ask, knowing damn-well her skin is hot now.

I feel her nod and know I have to stop this. I let it go on too long.

“Jordan, we have to stop.”

But I can feel that she’s soaked.

She starts grinding on me, rolling that ass as her words fall across my forehead. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “No one has to know.”

She starts dry humping me faster, her pants growing louder and heavier, and we’re alone in here, it’s dark, and no one has to know.

“Jordan,” I gasp, the world tipping on its side with the fucking pleasure. “Baby, we can’t. What are you doing?”

“I’m making it hard.”

Yeah, no shit.

I jerk myself harder, heat flooding my groin and fire spreading from my stomach and thighs.

She digs her nails into my shoulders, and I squeeze her hips as she rides the hell out of me.

“Baby, you have to stop,” I beg. God, I’m gonna come.

“But it feels good when it’s hard.”

I shake my head, whispering against her lips. “I’m not for you. Some other man’s going to…. We can’t.”

“I can’t stop,” she whimpers. “Please don’t make me stop.”

Her tits stand out at me and her hips roll in and out, and she’s the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.

Fuck, yes.

“Fine,” I finally growl and fall back to the bed, still gripping her hips as the ridge of my cock rubs against her. “Give your cunt what it wants.”

She mews, closes her eyes, and plants her hands back on my knees and takes what she wants from me.

I squeeze my cock for dear life, feeling her jutting hips in my hands, and I shoot, jerking harder and harder as I spill.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck!” I yell. “Shit!”

Oh, my God. I drop my head to the shower wall, the cum spilling out, and I slow my hand, the muscles burning as I release the rest.

I see spots behind my eyes, but I can still smell her sweat, and I don’t want it to be over. I want more.

“Godammit,” I mouth, licking my lips and forcing a swallow. “Shit.”

I want more.

I can’t remember the last time I came like that, but still…it wasn’t enough.

I take my hand off my cock and fist my fingers, aggravated. That was supposed to help, dammit. That was supposed to get her out of my system.

I feel my dick start to warm again, and I push off the wall, growling. I hit the faucet hard, turning the hot water to cold and rinse off.

I just need to fuck a real thing. Not her. Just someone else. I’ll lock myself in motel room with a box of condoms and get it out of my system.

Yeah. That’s what I’ll do.

This week. I’ll get it done.

I reach up to the rack and put my hand on my regular hook, grabbing for what I need to finish washing, but there’s nothing there.

It’s been missing for days, in fact, and I furrow my brow, looking around. “Where the fuck is my loofah?”

Jordan

“You made the taco dip, right?”

I nod, scrolling through my Instagram in the passenger seat. “Yeah.”

“And the bacon-wrapped jalapeño poppers?” Pike asks.

“Yes,” I hiss. “You only asked me like ten times.”

He’s quiet for a moment, driving through a neighborhood not far from ours.

I mean, his.

Ours.

“I just like them, is all,” he says.

A lazy smile tugs at my lips, and I feel a hint of pride. I love that he’s not just nice about things. He actually truly likes what I contribute. Whether it’s a meal or a snack I’ll leave on the counter for him after work or the new rock pad I made for the backyard yesterday, which he loved.

I’d had the idea after mudding and noticing how the hosing off made more mud, so I decided it would be fun to put a box of smooth stones by the hose, so now we can stand on that to hose off and keep our feet clean at the same time. It also drains the water exceptionally well, and it’ll be handy. When we go mudding again.

It’s been a week since that night and six days since we had Kyle’s kids over swimming, and I’ve tried to morph what happened between us into just some freak accident about me being on the rebound and vulnerable for attention or something, but it hasn’t stopped what I’ve started to feel for him from growing. It’s a crush. We’re alone together too much, and it’s understandable we’d form a bond.

Hopefully, this block party pot luck, and getting out of the house and around other people, will put things in perspective again.

“And it’s not turkey bacon, right?” he suddenly blurts out.

Huh?

“On the poppers?” he clarifies, and I can see him looking at me out of the corner of my eyes.

Jesus, is he still thinking about the food?

“And you didn’t sneak in anything weird like wheat germ or use cauliflower instead of actual potatoes in the potato salad like some of those low carb bullshit diets call for, right?” he goes on.

I burst into laughter, letting my head fall back, my phone drop in my lap, and my eyes close. Oh, my God.

“Jordan, I’m serious,” he scolds. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

My body convulses as I shake my head at him and smile. He’s so weird.

And I’m amused he’s craving the stuff I made so vehemently.

I finish chuckling quietly and bury my nose in my phone again. “Everything is fatty and savory and delicious,” I tell him. “Don’t worry. I’m letting you have a cheat day today. You can clog your arteries until the cows come home.”

I feel him nod. “Good.” There’s a brief pause and then he speaks up again. “If you feel uncomfortable, though, let me know. I can take you home.”