“And why’s that?”

I dropped my arms and sat forward, elbows resting on my thighs. “You start dancin’ on me and I’m touching you,” I promised, watching her blink. “You start dancin’ anywhere in this room and I’m touching you. You don’t gotta strip, babe. I just threw that out there ’cause that’s where I thought this was headed. Telling me you’re makin’ a move and you’re makin’ it in a strip club, I figured you’d be taking shit off, but honest to God, it don’t matter. Like I said before, rules are out there. Not in here. Only way I’m keeping my hands to myself is if I’m fuckin’ dead.”

“These are my rules,” Tori countered, bending down to get closer. “And unless you want me to holler out for my new friend with the gold tooth who looks like he eats narcissistic assholes for breakfast, I suggest you follow them, Jamie.”

I chuckled, knowing who she was talking about. Dude made sure I was clear on a few things before letting me back in here.

Something I wasn’t sharing with Legs.

“And what are these rules, babe?” I asked.

She straightened and snapped, “I already told you. Sit there and shut up.” Tori put her hand on my shoulder and shoved, pushing me back until I was pressing against the bench again. Then keeping her grip there, she swung her knee up, braced it on the leather, and lowered herself onto my lap, lifting her other knee and boxing me in with it.

I pulled in breath through my nose and curled my hands into fists on the cushion. “And the touching?” I asked, voice strained as I stared at the shape of her tits.

They grew closer as she leaned forward, her hands shifting to hold on behind me, and my gaze snapped up to meet hers when her face got an inch away.

“Beg for it,” she whispered.

My eyes flickered wider. Hers brightened with impending victory.

No shit.

Tori was gonna let me touch, but I had to call it. I had to let her win.

I had to fucking beg.

Jesus.

Why’d she have to be so good at this shit?

I steadied my gaze, telling her as my head tilted back, “Think I’ll just enjoy the ride.”

I wasn’t lying. I was going to enjoy this, every second of it, and I didn’t mind sharing that. But what I wasn’t sharing was how hard it was going to be swallowing down the words I was wanting to say.

Tori laughed as if she wasn’t buying my assurance. Then she gave me a halfhearted “good luck” before she slid up against me, shoved her tits in my face, pressed her stomach and ribs flush against mine, and sank down.

If we were naked, she would’ve slid right onto my dick. Right … the fuck … onto it.

Bad move.

Not for me. That shit was fucking awesome.

It was bad for her and she found that out quick, gasping and going rigid the second she felt the tip of my cock between her legs.

I was rock fucking hard on account of what she was doing, what she was wearing, her just being here and looking the way she did, and the fact that I hadn’t jerked off since we started this bet. Hadn’t fucked anyone either. Didn’t even want to. Not unless it was Tori.

The second I locked her into this shit between us, that was it.

And since we weren’t fucking yet and she wasn’t offering hand jobs, I was overdue. My balls basically hated me.

Expecting her reaction, I gripped her hips and kept her from hopping off, figuring Legs wouldn’t be able to fight this shit between us anymore and end up begging me to fuck her, realize this, and then freak.

And I would totally fuck her. Already had it planned out in my head.

Bend her over first with her ass in the air so I could spank the shit out of her for fighting this for so long, then taking her with those legs thrown over my shoulders like I’d pictured a thousand fucking times.

Fuck yeah. It would be good. And I’d drag that shit out for as long as possible.

But Tori wasn’t reacting how I had anticipated her to react. She wasn’t freaking. She was feeling. Me.

Yeah, she startled with a gasp and went rigid, but the second my hands found her hips, that sweet body of hers went soft and melted above me, sinking lower as her eyes rolled closed and her head fell back.

She moaned, low in her throat, as she started rocking her hips. Gentle at first, then with urgency. Moving on my dick and getting off on it.

“Fuck,” I groaned, watching her, feeling her.

Thank Christ I was wearing shorts and not jeans.

Tori froze after I spoke. Her head snapped down and our eyes met. That was when she tried hopping off. As predicted.

And no fucking way was I allowing it now.

I grabbed the back of her neck with one hand and kept my other fastened on her hip, gripping her tighter there so she couldn’t move and then pulling until her face was a breath away from mine.

Her mouth was right there, so close I could lick her fat, cherry lip, but I didn’t.

She was staring into my eyes, looking panicked and turned on, breathing heavy, possibly on the verge of hollering out.

I was staring back, feeling all kinds of shit right along with her and she was reading that, loud and fucking clear.

Tori blinked, looked at my mouth, and then looked back into my eyes. Her breaths started coming out faster. She wasn’t resisting.

She was waiting. Waiting for me, and I was not about to make her wait for shit right now.

Hell, I was done waiting.

I’d waited too damn long for this already.

I kept her close, my fingers staying wrapped around her neck and keeping pressure. And with my hand on her hip, I started shifting her, grinding her against my shit so hard I thought she might bruise.

Tori made a noise and shuddered like she wanted that, like she wanted this to hurt, then she brought one hand to my neck and gripped me there so she could hold on and hurt me, too.

Her lips parted. Her fingers curled around and cut into my skin.

Fuck yeah.

I groaned, grit my teeth, and started pumping my hips up, giving her more and urging her to move, to go faster, pressing her down so that there wasn’t a part of me she wasn’t getting.

She met my desire. She matched it.

It wasn’t me moving her after a while.

Tori took over. She rolled her hips and jerked in my lap like we were fucking. Tits bouncing behind white stretched cotton. Ass slapping against my thighs. Limbs tensing. And she knew, fuck, she knew without me having to say when I needed faster and when I wanted her to slow down.

Drag this out. Build this with me. Please, fuck.

She knew what I wanted. I didn’t speak. Neither of us did.

I could taste her breath as we got off like we were both thirteen. I stared at her mouth and the way she moaned through it. I wanted to kiss her.

I wanted to fuck her.

I wanted to tell her she was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen in my life, and the way she was getting off on me was topping actual sex I’d had with women who wore a helluva lot less.

Crazy shit. Shit I shouldn’t want out in the open and known, but I didn’t care.

This felt too good. She felt too good, and I wasn’t even inside her.

Then her breath hitched. Her limbs started trembling and her eyes rolled closed. And instead of telling her anything or confessing shit I maybe needed to keep locked in, I yanked her closer and took her mouth.

My tongue assaulted her, pushing past her parted lips, and this time instead of being too startled or too scared or whatever the fuck it was that’s always got her running, she kissed me back.