Justice Served by Radclyffe

flat beneath the tight stretch of his black T-shirt, and his narrow hips seemed tight and powerful beneath the faded black jeans.
    He looked up, surprised and worried. “What’s wrong?” He ran a hand over his chest. “Is the Ace too bulky? Does it show through my shirt?”
    Sandy shook her head. “No, it looks good.”
    “Not enough shading?” He traced along his jaw where Sandy had expertly accentuated the already strong lines with the subtle application of makeup.
    Another negative head shake.
    “So what—?”
    “It’s not your face. ” Sandy smiled faintly at Mitch’s obvious expression of distress and twined her arms around his neck. With her body tight to his and her mouth against his ear, she whispered, “I can tell you have a hard-on.”
    Mitch laughed, a combination of embarrassment and pride. He pulled her closer to his groin, his hands spread across her lower back. The pressure of her body against the fullness in his jeans sent the blood thundering to his belly. “You told me that’s what you wanted, right? The working gear?”
    “Yes,” Sandy admitted, rolling her hips over him lazily. “But Michael might get up. And I don’t want her to see you like this.”
    “Why?” Mitch searched her face, frowning. “Are you embarrassed?”
    Sandy bumped him sharply, groin to groin, making him gasp in surprise. “No,” she said, as if speaking to a five-year-old. “I just don’t want any other woman but me checking out your equipment.”
    “Sandy,” Mitch complained, distracted by the subtle insistence of her hips moving against him. “It’s always gonna show some. And even if Michael sees, she isn’t going to be interest—”
    “You don’t know that,” Sandy whispered as she slid a hand between their bellies and cupped the rigid length of him. “You look so hot.” She squeezed, massaging him rhythmically. “And this is mine, baby.”
    Mitch was losing focus, every sense concentrated on the exquisite pressure against the turgid tissue beneath the cock in Sandy’s hand. His stomach spasmed, and his legs shook. “Sandy. Honey. You gotta cut that out.”
    With a hand between his legs and one around his shoulders, Sandy walked him back against the dresser, until she had him pinned with the weight of her body fused to his. She pumped him faster and watched his eyes glaze. “You like it, baby?”
    “Oh…jeez…honey…” Mitch trembled and groaned. “You’re gonna get me off like that.”
    “I could,” Sandy said sweetly, stilling her hand as she kissed his mouth. Still leaning into him, she stroked her tongue inside his mouth until he quivered the way he did when he was getting ready to come. Then she eased away. “But I’m not going to, not right now.”
    Mitch braced an arm along the edge of the dresser for support, his chest heaving. “What are you doing to me? Honey, what are you doing?”
    She stroked his cheek. Kissed him again. Pumped his cock one more time with her hand. Eased farther away. “I want you to remember where this belongs. Now go change into something that’s not gonna make every girl within a mile want to fuck you.”
    “If I move right now, I might come.”
    “Are you hard, baby?”
    “Oh yeah.”
    She nipped his chin gently. “Good. Save it.” Forcing herself to back completely away, when what she wanted to do was unbutton his jeans and pull him down on top of her and into her, she said, “I’m going to get dressed.”
    Smiling a satisfied smile, Sandy pretended she didn’t hear him whimper as she turned her back and stripped off her top.

    *

    “Darling?” Michael massaged Sloan’s back as she lay with her head pillowed against Michael’s breast.
    “Mmm?”
    “I think there’s a party going on in the other room.”
    “Mmm.”
    “Are you awake, or are you just humoring me by pretending to be listening?”
    “Mmm-hmm.”
    Michael gently extricated herself from her lover’s grasp and sat up in bed. “I think I hear Sarah’s