Page 61 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“That’s admirable,” I murmur as I lean in and tease his lips with mine, “but we’ve already slept together, so does it really matter?”

He chuckles. “Yes, it does matter because you’re trying to distract me with those lips of yours when all my mind keeps thinking of is all of the other things you could be doing with them.”

“Like what?” I purr.

He leans back and shoots me a warning glare. “I told you, Scout. We’re getting to know each other.”

“So even if I go like this . . .” I run the tip of my fingernail over the more than obvious outline of his hardened cock through his jogging pants.

He groans my name, his body tenses, and his head falls back as I complete one long stroke of my fingertip. And just when I think I might have won the battle, his hands flash out and tighten like a vice around my wrists to prevent me from tempting him any further. “Not going to happen,” he grits out.

I try to move my arms, but he doesn’t let them budge. And there’s something about his reaction and the strength of his hands on mine that urge me to try again.

“And I couldn’t persuade you if I did this?” I lean forward and circle my tongue around the flat, bronzed disc of his nipple before sucking on it gently.

“Goddammit, woman.” His tone is sharp, but the groan that follows it is so damn sexy I grow wet between my thighs.

“What?” I feign innocence as I look up at him and bat my lashes with my lips still pressed against his chest.

His grin is full of warning, and yet his erection is pressing against my thigh. With our gazes locked, I lean forward to lick the other nipple, knowing I’ve put him in a quandary.

And just as I make contact, he makes his move. The element of surprise, and probably my own escalating desire, gives him the opportunity to pull me onto his lap, twist me around so my back is to his chest, and wrap his arms around me so that I can’t move mine.

“There.”

“You bastard.” I chuckle because now his cock pressing against my lower back is his reciprocated torture.

“Is something the matter?” he teases, hot breath against my ear.

I wiggle my ass over his dick and feel his thighs grow tense. He repositions and adjusts so his arms are tighter around me, and he brings his legs over my calves to quiet my wriggling.

All I can do is laugh.

He sighs. “See? Perfect position to watch a movie together.”

“A movie? That’s the first thing that comes to mind right now?”

“Yep.” He shifts so that he can hold the remote in one hand and me between both of his arms. “We’re going to sit here and watch the first movie I come across on the menu.”

He scrolls through the on-screen guide. “Your hair is in the way . . . what’s that one say?” he asks, and I smile, knowing exactly what movie it is. Perfect.

“Click that one.”

And when he does, and the guide cuts to the movie, the screen fills with a very involved sex scene. Moaning and nudity and thrusting and licking. How was I to know it would be at this scene already?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters with a laugh. “Perfect.”

“It seems fate is trying to tell you what you should be doing.”

“Fate or a manipulative and determined woman.”

“Maybe a little of both. But this is actually a movie adaptation of a hugely bestselling romance novel, I believe,” I say, tongue in cheek, while my body is reacting to the visual porn in front of me and tangible porn against me.

“Ah . . . and now it becomes clear why you like romance novels.” He laughs.

“It has a great story line,” I say in jest.

“I can see that.”