Birthday Girl Page 54

She faces forward and turns silent, but I see her jaw tense as she stares out the windshield. Assuming I know her mind more than she does is probably condescending, but she’s acting childish, keeping up this pretense. She has more common sense than that, and I don’t like games. She knows she would never be able to deal with those customers, and she definitely can’t strip and dance naked. She’d probably be so embarrassed to be stared at she’d break into tears.

Seven minutes later, though, I pull into the driveway, and she hops out before I’ve even killed the engine.

“Jordan?” I call, swinging my door open.

What the hell? We’re not fighting again, are we?

But she glances over her shoulder as she walks toward the porch. “I’m just gonna get in my swimsuit.”

I stand there, twirling the keyring on my finger. Oooookay.

Awareness pricks on the back of my neck, and I turn my head, scanning the neighborhood for Cole’s car or his mother’s. Then I dart my gaze over the windows of nearby houses for peeled-back curtains or movement.

I’m sure there’s talk on the block by now.

People notice things, and Cole is rarely here, while his girlfriend and I are constantly together. It won’t take long for people to come to their own conclusions.

By the time I make it into the house, Jordan is nowhere to be seen. Trailing upstairs, I pass her closed bedroom door and head to my room to change into swim shorts. She’s still in her room when I come out, and I head back downstairs to grab some water bottles and turn on the backyard lights. The pool lights up, and I turn on the radio affixed underneath the cabinet, some chick singing about Guys My Age already playing on the station Jordan has it tuned to.

My phone beeps with an unfamiliar ring, and I walk over to the island and pick it up.

Jordan. Why is she FaceTiming me?

Answering, I see her appear on the screen, but she’s looking down at me, like her phone

is propped up on something lower than her. Like her desk. Her hair drapes around her, and I can’t really see anything else other than the glow of the overhead light.

“What are you doing?” I ask, carrying the phone into the living room.

But she remains silent.

I sit down on the couch, leaning my elbows on my knees and watching her. A small smile plays on her lips, and she moves her head left and then right, and I can tell she’s toying with me. She stands up straight, and I lose sight of her face, but her beautiful body comes into view, and I see that she’s wearing the shell bikini.

My heart skips a beat, and I have to fight back a smile. Her breasts bulge outside of the little pink fabric, and the thin strings look so delicate on her tan skin. I want to ask her to turn around, but I’d rather just have her down here.

The screen jostles, and I see she’s repositioning the phone farther back, and when she comes into view again, I can see part of the desk, her body, and her face now. She leans into the desk, eyeing me with a flirty look, her arms pressing into her body and, coincidentally, her breasts, too.

I quirk a smile. “Yes, Jordan?”

“I’m not a kid,” she says, her smile suddenly disappearing.

A feeling of trepidation courses through me, and I knew this was too good to be true. She’s teasing me, and she’s not coming down now.

I sigh and lay back on the couch. “Then stop acting like one,” I reply.

She stares down, pinning me with her defiant eyes. “I’m not a kid,” she says again.

And I watch as she reaches one hand behind her neck and the other behind her back and pulls both strings, the pathetic little pieces of fabric falling off her body and to the floor.

I swallow a hard lump at the sight of her. I was going to do that, dammit.

Her hard nipples stand out at me, and the skin on my palms buzz with the memory of her in my hands. My stomach flips, and my cock is swelling with need already.

Please don’t do this to me.

But I can’t look away.

I can’t hear the music in her room, or maybe she’s hearing mine in the kitchen, but she starts swaying a little bit and rocking her hips, closing her eyes and running her hands up, down, and all over her body, face and hair. She looks like dessert.

Biting her bottom lip, she plays with me, caressing her tits and slipping her hands down her stomach and playing with the hem of her bottoms, threatening to pull them down.

She taunts me with her eyes and the promise of seeing something good. Like a stripper.

Realization hits, and I finally know what she’s doing.

I shake my head, my body on fire for her. “You can’t do it,” I tease.

She can’t take off her clothes and dance.

“You’re right,” she says, turning around and looking at me over her shoulder. “I can’t do it. I’m just a little girl, right? A silly, little girl.”

She faces me again, giving me a coy smile as she tilts the screen down, and I notice that she’s straddling the rounded corner of the desk. Still standing, she places one hand on the desk and the other one up on the wall, I think, with the corner of the wooden desk resting between her legs.

And I watch as she slowly starts humping it. Her hips roll and her stomach fans in and out as her ass moves and grinds over the tabletop, and I can hear the friction of the fabric over her pussy rubbing against the wood.

Oh, Jesus. My chest rises and falls faster as I watch her do the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen. God, I love watching her. Her tits sway with the movement, bouncing a little when she starts going harder, and my mouth has gone so dry I can’t swallow.

“You wanna see me do this?” she teases, her big eyes telling me she knows damn well I like what I’m seeing.

“Stop fucking around and get down here.”

She drops her head back instead, running her fingers down her face and body, cupping a breast and squeezing it before trailing the hand down her stomach.

“I told you I had a vibrator,” she says, looking at me again. “I don’t use it, though.” She increases her speed, and I can hear that the grinding has gotten harder. “I like to be in control. I like to work for it, like I’m fucking a real one.”

I lick my lips. “Jordan…”

“Shhh….”

She opens her mouth and moans and then lifts a knee, placing it on the desk to widen her legs. Sweat cools my brow, and I sit up, leaning forward again.

“I like you watching me,” she says. “You’ve always watched me, haven’t you? Always wanted to have your fun with me.”

I falter, knowing what she says is true. I’ve wanted her since the first time I saw her.

“It’s okay,” she whispers. “I always knew, and I always liked it. Keep watching me, Mr. Lawson.”

I swallow, my mouth still so dry. “I am,” I breathe out.

“Oh, God,” she moans.

My eyes burn, and I’m desperate to blink, but I can’t take my gaze off her. I can almost feel it. Like the corner of the desk is my fingers she’s fucking, and her soft flesh is grinding on my hand. Or my fucking mouth, I don’t care. I’ve never been so jealous of an inanimate object.

“Move the phone to the bed,” I tell her. “I want to see you from behind.”

She slows her movements, shaking and breathing hard, and I can tell I caught her just as she was chasing her orgasm.

Oh, well, she’ll have to work harder to get it back again.

Walking the phone to the bed, she props it up against something and quickly looks back and forth between the screen and the desk to make sure I have her in view, and then walks back to the desk corner.

Running her fingers through her hair, she glances at me over her shoulder, smirking. I tighten my fist, anxious for the feel of that perky ass.

But before she lifts her knee again, she slips her fingers under the hem of her bikini bottoms and slides them down just below her ass. And she leaves them there. Planting her hands on the desktop, she leans over it, lifts her knee, and arches her back for me, jutting out her ass as she starts dry humping the corner of the desk again.

Her behind, her hair falling down her back, her way of moving and taunting…. I reach down and adjust my cock, now painfully stiff and ready. To have this view of her, I’m dying.

“Mmmm, that’s what I like,” she pants, meeting my eyes over her shoulder. “Watch me. Watch me fuck for you. I’ll do whatever you say. It’s all for you.”

She goes harder, stronger, and faster, and I’m not sure if I want her pussy in my mouth or around my dick first. I’m taking her from behind tonight. I have to have her like this.

“Jordan…” The phone cracks in my hand.

“You like it?” she taunts. “You like when I play with myself for you?”

“Baby.” I rise from the couch.

I need her.

“Mmm, I like you watching,” she groans. “Am I being good now?”

I don’t take my eyes off her as I climb the stairs.

“I wish there were ten more of you watching me,” she says, “wanting me.”

If there were any more of me, she’d have a huge problem tonight.

“Pike, I’m so wet. You could slide right into me.”

My dick jerks and pulses, and I reach her door and twist the handle.

“You like it?” She pumps faster. “I’m so hot and wet for you.”

The door’s locked, and I jiggle the handle, dying to get inside.

“Jordan?” I call, my patience non-existent. “Open the door.”

“Oh, Pike. Oh, God.”

I look down at the screen again, seeing her hair damn-near touching her ass as she throws her head back and fucks the desk. God, her ass…

“More, more, more, more…” she whimpers. “I’m coming. Oh, God. Yes!”

“Jordan, shit…” I yank at the door, ready to knock it down. “Open the door.”

Don’t come without me.

“Fuck me!” she cries out, moaning and whimpering. “Yes! Yes…yes…yes.”