“Right now?” I ask, hoping it sounds
coy and teasing and not the least bit like my blood’s on fire for
this boy in my arms, pinning me up to the door, but he thrusts into
me and I know he feels that hard thickness at my groin, aching at
the confines of my jumpsuit—I know he feels it against his own
erection because thatrubs along my thigh, as eager as his
lips that cover mine.
“Now,” he breathes, and the hum of my
zipper when he pulls it down is lost in my low moan. His knee
presses between my legs and into my crotch, and then his hands are
slipping into my open zipper, smoothing along my naked chest,
cupping my erection through my thin boxers and then easing around
my hips, beneath the fabric, until he has one arm wrapped around my
waist, one hand cradling my bare ass, kneading hungrily. He buries
his face in my throat and I hug him close, my arms around his neck,
my lips in his hair and I moan his name again, he’s kissing me and