Page 202 of Just for the Plot

“Weird, no. But if it was the other way around, I’d rather cut my ears off than hear about you with other men.”

“That’s because you’re possessive, and I’m more curious. So tell me, who was the last girl you fucked?”

He glides his hand over his jaw and thinks about it. “Uh…shit, I think it was in Houston. Earlier this summer.”

“Houston, huh? What did she look like and where did you meet her?”

“You really want to know?”

I nod, fascinated and curious…and maybe turned on, all at the same time.

“Okay, uh…Nolan brought her up to me at the bar. I had a few drinks. I was horny as shit and well, she was hot.”

“Yeah?” I ask, my robe falling over my shoulder, exposing it as I lightly move over his cock. “What did she look like?”

Getting into it now, he says, “She was a brunette, curvy hips, killer lips.”

“Mm.” His hands undo the tie of my robe so the sides open up. “What about her tits?”

“Average,” he answers. “Everything about them were average. Just plump enough, nice nipples.”

I start to rotate a little faster on his lap, picturing her in my head, him with her as he pushes my robe down so now it’s sitting in the crooks of my elbows, my body fully exposed to him.

“How did you fuck her?”

He wets his lips, his eyes grazing over my body, his hands moving up to my breasts. “She had a great ass, so I bent her over the bed and fucked her from behind.”

I can see it in my head. A curvy brunette, in a skirt, bent over the bed, and Bennett seeking out his own pleasure, just pounding into her relentlessly, his muscles flexing, his fingers imprinting into her skin…

God, I’m growing wet.

“Did you spank her?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Show me.” I let the robe fall to the ground and then lean forward just enough for him to have a good angle.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers before his hand draws back and then connects with my flesh with a snap.

“Mmmmm,” I moan into his ear. “Again.”

He spanks me again, and then soothes his hand over the spot before going at it a third and fourth time, making me so wet and ready that I sit up, my breasts grazing his face before I stand up, tug on his pants until his cock springs free.

Then I turn around, straddle him so my back is to his chest, and I lift up, only to fall back down on his cock.

“Jesus,” he says, his arm snagging around my waist and pulling me up against his chest. His hand slides up my stomach and right to my breast where he cups me, squeezing my flesh and playing with my nipple.

“What did she sound like? Was she loud?”

“Not like you,” he says as I rock up and down over him.

“What did she feel like?”

“Tight,” he says. “But not as tight as you.”

“Did you make her come?”

“What the hell do you think?” he says with such a cocky attitude that it turns me on even more.