Page 61 of The Auction
I see her shift on the bed, glancing over her tablet, her eyes narrowed right on my dick. She runs her tongue across her bottom lip, and I feel a drop of cum leak out.
Fuck. I want to pull my cock out right now. Slide my hand up and down my shaft while she watches me. Come hard and see if she’d crawl over here to me and lick up my mess.
“What’s that man?” I blink, having to get myself back to the conversation. “Yeah, Cass is being a good girl.”
I keep my eyes on her when I say those last two words.
Her eyes narrow and she slams her tablet shut, standing up.
Apparently she only owns the smallest goddamn clothes in existence.
She walks past me without a word, wearing silk pajama shorts that are barely shorts at all. Her ass is round and smooth, the fabric clinging like it’s one wrong breath from giving up entirely. Her top is paper-thin, camisole straps slipping just enough to reveal the curve of her shoulder.
No bra.
And her nipples are hard as fuck.
Visible. Distracting. Dangerous.
She’s never been this undressed around me.
Never looked so effortlessly, infuriatingly sexy.
I try not to look. Itry.
Who the fuck am I kidding. I don’t try. I fucking look.
I watch the bounce of her hips, the delicate sway of her breasts. But there’s a mirror at the end of the hallway, and it betrays me.
Her eyes catch mine and she smirks. Just the corner of her mouth curving like she knows she’s killing me and enjoys every second of it.
And fuck, she’s beautiful.
I shift my stance, forcing myself to keep talking—to stay cool while I boil alive. “Three more weeks?”
“Sure, I can keep her in my sights for three more weeks. No problem, man.”
Do you mind if I fuck her senseless the entire time?I keep that question to myself.
She returns a moment later with a bowl of ice cream, stolen from my freezer like this isherapartment.Herkitchen. But it could be hers. I’d give her anything she wanted.
I step closer to her doorway, stretching my arm to grip the top trim as I lean, blocking the path back to her room just enough to make her hesitate.
She slips by, slow and casual, and her breasts brush right against my bare torso. That cami so fucking thin it feels like skin to skin. Soft warmth and the unmistakable friction of hard nipples dragging across my ribs.
I stop breathing.
My grip tightens on the doorframe, knuckles white.
She turns once she’s inside her room, still facing me. Her eyes hold mine like she’s waiting for something.
Like maybe she’s going to say what we’re both thinking.
Hang up the fucking phone and kiss me.
And if she did God help me, I’d do it so fucking fast.
And hard. With everything I’ve been holding back for years.
