Page 169 of Cross Check

“Yeah.” I wet my lips and bob my head. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Amelia’s smile falls. “Is that all?”

“That was a lie. I’m in heaven. And hell too, if we’re being honest.” My dick is so hard, it hurts. “You’re practically naked in front of me, and I haven’t looked at you yet.”

“You should look.” She dips her chin, an invitation there. “Please.”

Her plea forces me to blow out the last of my remaining restraint. My gaze moves from her face down to her neck. A silver necklace rests against her throat, and I want to smile at how pretty it is.

I go lower, and I think my brain is short-circuiting when I see her chest. I think this is how I die, because fucking Christ. She’s perfect. Perfect size, perfect shape. I don’t know if I want to touch her with my fingers or my tongue. If I want to fuck her tits and finish there too.

Amelia wraps her fingers around my wrist. It’s a good thing she’s able to stay in control, because I’m hopeless. I’m completely fucking stupid when she places my palm on her breast. I whine when I twist her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. The noise that escapes her is rough, a strangled breath as she squirms.

“I haven’t done this a lot, but I have done this. I know what I’m doing. Sort of.” I cup her breast with my whole hand. “You’re just so fucking hot, and I’m totally distracted.”

“Thank you.” Her head tilts, and her eyes flutter closed. “You’re sweet.”

I don’t want to be sweet.

I want to be her fucking demise.

“About tonight,” I say. “I want to take things slow. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

“You could never mess anything up, Grant.” Her gasp is shallow when I pinch her nipple again and turn it between my fingers. She arches her back and grips the sheets tight. “Oh.”

I change my position and lean forward. I swirl my tongue, sucking on her nipple until she grasps my shoulder. She digs her fingers into my bicep, and her sharp nails prick my skin.

I wonder if that’s the next tattoo I’ll get: little half-moons to commemorate the best night of my life.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like something?” I ask against the curve of her breast. “If I’m not doing something right?”

“Yes.” She pushes on my shoulder, urging me down her body. “This is very right, but I want more.”

“More,” I repeat. I drag my tongue down her sternum, not stopping until I get to her stomach. I put a hand flat on her belly and fan my fingers out. My star tattoo looks nice against her skin. I wonder what it would look like other places. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve used you as my inspiration when I’ve touched myself, and I’m wondering how different it would be—will be—with you here.”

My cock throbs, and I thrust against the mattress for some relief. My mind wanders, and I’m imagining her in bed, naked and spread out with three fingers inside herself. Head tipped back, a bead of sweat rolling between her tits. Pre-cum leaks in my boxers, and I kiss the top of her thigh.

“Fuck,” I mumble. “Tell me about it.”

“It was the All-Star weekend when you were in the Skills Challenge. I went back to my room after I left the club and got myself off while I pretended you were the one doing it.”

“You should’ve texted me to come to your room.”

“I wouldn’t have let you touch me then.”

“I would have been happy just watching. I would have been happy to drag a chair to the edge of the bed and sit there while you made yourself come.” I twist my fingers in her underwear. “But here I am. You’re letting me touch you now, and I’m going to take good care of you.”

“You’ve been taking care of me for years, Gran, but I want something different tonight.” Amelia bends her knees. She spreads her legs and puts her hand on mine. “And you’re the only one who can give it to me.”

I pull her underwear over her knees and shins, tucking the black scrap of fabric in my pocket. I shift on the mattress so I’m on my stomach between her legs.

She’s so wet. I touch my thumb to her clit, glad I found the right spot when her legs nudge open even wider and she lifts her hips.

“I haven’t been with anyone in years,” Amelia says, filling the silence. “It might take my body a minute to adjust to you.”

“Baby, I’m ready to learn and have nowhere to be. It could take a million minutes, and I’m still going to say thank-you after.”