empathetically at the stimulation.
‘I stole his girl.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t think she was really his girl, though. I think he was done with her.’ He took his time leaning in to kiss me and right before he did he breathed in my ear. ‘I’m not taking his girl again, am I?’
‘I’m nobody’s girl.’
His kiss was entirely different than Shepherd’s. Softer and more courteous but no less aggressive under the shiny veneer of manners. I turned into his touch and he slid his other hand inside my robe to cup my unattended breast. Plucking my nipples, he kissed me harder and I gasped into his mouth. Reed swallowed my sound and backed me to the counter.
‘Nobody’s girl. I like it. You only belong to you, right Tuesday?’ His voice soft and teasing and I could hear his smile.
Without thinking, I parted my legs and he felt it, pushing his thigh into the gap I’d provided. His hip banged my pelvis. His cock, hard from the feel of things, brushed my thigh. My robe now swam around my upper arms, my chest completely bare but for his hands.
‘I’m just mine. I don’t like to belong to anyone.’
Phil used to mutter, “Nobody. You’re nobody,” when he’d been too in the bag to control himself and decided it would be fun to take a swing. Before I stopped all that bullshit. When I moved into Annie’s and considered dating again, I’d changed that mental soundtrack to nobody’s. I was nobody’s but my own.
‘Good girl. You shouldn’t. Maybe that’s why she chose me over Shepherd. Me, I don’t care, do what you want. Him … possessive. Needy if you ask me.’
I kissed him to shut him up because I realised when he spoke that way about Shepherd a red knot of hot anger woke up in my chest. I didn’t like belonging to anyone, I didn’t like feeling I had to defend anyone. That was too close for comfort for me. I shut Reed up by rubbing the knuckle of my thumb along the ridge of his erection.
He stopped, biting my tongue gently and humming deep in his throat. I shivered at the sound. That was the sound of a man losing a tiny shred of control. Because of me. I loved it.
‘Under it all he’s a good man, so I’m glad I’m not taking his girl,’ Reed said. There was a flash of that TV smile and then his hands on my robe belt. The tie whispered when he worked it and the robe slid down and free of me as I stood in the sunny kitchen.
‘Dear Lord, woman.’ His gaze felt palpable. The way he looked at me made me tremble. Reed stroked up my arms and then down my sides. My skin flushed hot and then I shivered again from the wacky change in internal temperature.
‘Kiss me,’ I begged.
He did. Another soft kiss that somehow turned hard and claiming toward the end. One hand tangling in my hair and yanking me to him with a surprising strength. He didn’t look so strong as to pin me to him, almost powerless to move. But he was.
He stroked between my legs with his free hand, almost petting me with that soft touch, until I whimpered. Then his fingers delved in deep, curled and withdrew. ‘You’re really fucking wet, Tuesday Cane.’
‘It’s because of you Mr Green Jeans.’ I tried to laugh but he plunged his fingers deep again and I lost the joking lilt. It was nothing but an exhalation and a silent request for more.
He didn’t give me more. Of that. Reed kissed my shoulder and surprised me by pinching my nipples so that I cried out. Then he dropped to his knees, tucking that beautiful soft hair behind his ear as he went.
‘Let me see you.’
I blushed. I always blush when men say things like that. But it’s not just blushing I do, I also grow wetter and more plump when they talk to me with dirty courtly words of praise.
I spread my legs and let him see. His breath hot and moist on my erect clit. His fingers commanding on my inner thighs as he held me wide. He dipped his head and touched me with this tongue. A phantom touch – so light I was sure I’d imagined it – until he licked me
‘I stole his girl.’ He smiled. ‘I don’t think she was really his girl, though. I think he was done with her.’ He took his time leaning in to kiss me and right before he did he breathed in my ear. ‘I’m not taking his girl again, am I?’
‘I’m nobody’s girl.’
His kiss was entirely different than Shepherd’s. Softer and more courteous but no less aggressive under the shiny veneer of manners. I turned into his touch and he slid his other hand inside my robe to cup my unattended breast. Plucking my nipples, he kissed me harder and I gasped into his mouth. Reed swallowed my sound and backed me to the counter.
‘Nobody’s girl. I like it. You only belong to you, right Tuesday?’ His voice soft and teasing and I could hear his smile.
Without thinking, I parted my legs and he felt it, pushing his thigh into the gap I’d provided. His hip banged my pelvis. His cock, hard from the feel of things, brushed my thigh. My robe now swam around my upper arms, my chest completely bare but for his hands.
‘I’m just mine. I don’t like to belong to anyone.’
Phil used to mutter, “Nobody. You’re nobody,” when he’d been too in the bag to control himself and decided it would be fun to take a swing. Before I stopped all that bullshit. When I moved into Annie’s and considered dating again, I’d changed that mental soundtrack to nobody’s. I was nobody’s but my own.
‘Good girl. You shouldn’t. Maybe that’s why she chose me over Shepherd. Me, I don’t care, do what you want. Him … possessive. Needy if you ask me.’
I kissed him to shut him up because I realised when he spoke that way about Shepherd a red knot of hot anger woke up in my chest. I didn’t like belonging to anyone, I didn’t like feeling I had to defend anyone. That was too close for comfort for me. I shut Reed up by rubbing the knuckle of my thumb along the ridge of his erection.
He stopped, biting my tongue gently and humming deep in his throat. I shivered at the sound. That was the sound of a man losing a tiny shred of control. Because of me. I loved it.
‘Under it all he’s a good man, so I’m glad I’m not taking his girl,’ Reed said. There was a flash of that TV smile and then his hands on my robe belt. The tie whispered when he worked it and the robe slid down and free of me as I stood in the sunny kitchen.
‘Dear Lord, woman.’ His gaze felt palpable. The way he looked at me made me tremble. Reed stroked up my arms and then down my sides. My skin flushed hot and then I shivered again from the wacky change in internal temperature.
‘Kiss me,’ I begged.
He did. Another soft kiss that somehow turned hard and claiming toward the end. One hand tangling in my hair and yanking me to him with a surprising strength. He didn’t look so strong as to pin me to him, almost powerless to move. But he was.
He stroked between my legs with his free hand, almost petting me with that soft touch, until I whimpered. Then his fingers delved in deep, curled and withdrew. ‘You’re really fucking wet, Tuesday Cane.’
‘It’s because of you Mr Green Jeans.’ I tried to laugh but he plunged his fingers deep again and I lost the joking lilt. It was nothing but an exhalation and a silent request for more.
He didn’t give me more. Of that. Reed kissed my shoulder and surprised me by pinching my nipples so that I cried out. Then he dropped to his knees, tucking that beautiful soft hair behind his ear as he went.
‘Let me see you.’
I blushed. I always blush when men say things like that. But it’s not just blushing I do, I also grow wetter and more plump when they talk to me with dirty courtly words of praise.
I spread my legs and let him see. His breath hot and moist on my erect clit. His fingers commanding on my inner thighs as he held me wide. He dipped his head and touched me with this tongue. A phantom touch – so light I was sure I’d imagined it – until he licked me
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