Page 16 of Rent a Bad Boy

She nods without speaking. Her eyes are half-closed behind her glasses, which are fogging up. Any other time, that might be funny. Right now, it’s doing something to me most girls can’t do with their hands and their mouth combined. She looks wrecked, and I’ve barely touched her yet.

I walk her backward until her legs hit the edge of the bed. She sits down hard enough to bounce and looks up at me with those wide eyes, and I have to take a breath before I do something stupid like rushing this.

Slowly, I lower myself to my knees in front of her. Her eyes go even wider. I put my hands on her knees and ease them apart, and the sound she makes almost undoes me right there. This quiet, startled little inhale that goes straight to my cock and makes it stand at attention. “Still okay?” I ask, and now my breathing has gotten rougher.

“I think so,” she whispers. “Yes.”

Slowly, I undo her jeans. She lifts her hips to help me pull them down. It takes a little coordination since her legs are shaking, and my hands are bigger than they need to be for this kind of work. I run my thumb along the waistband of her plain cotton underwear, and her entire body tenses. “Lie back,” I grunt.

She does. She stares at the ceiling, breathing fast, her hands fisted in the sheets on either side of her hips. I hook my fingers into the waistband and pull the panties down her legs, and she squeezes her eyes shut so hard her whole face scrunches.

“Dimples. Look at me.”

She opens one eye. Then the other. “I’ve got you,” I tell her. “Just breathe.” Meanwhile, my hand slides up the inside of her thigh. Slowly, giving her time to stop me if she needs to. She doesn’t. When I touch her swollen lips, she’s already wet, and the sound she makes when my fingers find the right spot is the sound I’ve been thinking about since the first time I saw her. Raw and surprised. Completely unguarded.

I keep my eyes on her face while I work her tiny clit, poking out from under a neatly trimmed sprinkle of curls. She’s trying to stay quiet, biting down on her lip with one hand pressed against her mouth, but it’s not working. Every time I shift my fingers or change the pressure on her pretty pink bud, another sound escapes. Each one of them goes through me like a current.

I understand everything once I start to ease a finger inside her and find how tight she is. I come up against a barrier, and the realization hits me like a fist to the side of my head. I should’ve guessed she’s a virgin.

That changes everything about what I was planning to do next.

Instead of taking her the way my body demands I do, I tease her hole while moving my thumb in slow circles over her clit and watch her face as she gets closer. Her back arches off the mattress, and her hand finds my forearm so she can grip hard enough to leave marks. I let her because she needs something to hold onto.

“Let it go,” I whisper while she writhes and tries to bite back her whimpers. “It’s okay. Let go.”

She lets go. Her whole body locks up and then releases, and the sound she makes is quiet and broken, and maybe the best thing I’ve ever heard. I work her through it, circling her clit until she’s trembling, and her hand loosens on my arm before she finally relaxes against the mattress with a sigh.

Meanwhile, I’m dying here. Hard to the point of pain, and let’s not even talk about the pressure behind my zipper. When I stand, I pull her shirt up just enough to leave her stomach bare. She’s still dazed as she blinks up at me, then watches with heavy eyes while I free myself and wrap my hand around my cock.

She gasps, but the sound is barely audible over my pounding heart and ragged breaths. She’s probably never seen anything like this. Watching a man stand over her, fucking his fist while he stares down at her quivering pussy, her cum still leaking from her tight little hole.

It doesn’t take long. Not with her lying there watching me, all flushed and breathless. I stroke myself fast, my jaw tight, watching her watch me. When I come, it’s with a deep groan before I paint her stomach in hot streaks.

For a little while, neither of us moves. It’s enough to just breathe before I drop to the mattress next to her. Hell, I might need to remember how to function.

She breaks the silence, because of course she does. “Is that enough?” Her voice is small and hoarse. Maybe a little dazed, too.

“Yeah,” I reply, still breathless and a little dizzy. “That’s enough.”

“Good.” She pulls the edge of her sheet up over her stomach like modesty is something she just remembered exists. “So we have a deal?”

“We have a deal.” I stand up and look down at her one more time. “For the record, I was already going to do it anyway.”

She pops up on her elbows. “What?”

“The whole HOA thing. I already decided I would do it. The rest of this was just...” I shrug. “A bonus.”

“A bonus?” She stares hard at me. “You’re telling me I could’ve just said no, and you would’ve helped me regardless?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she grabs a pillow and throws it at me. I catch it without trying, toss it back on the bed, and head for the door.

“Need to make sure your grandma’s in her room before I leave,” I murmur over my shoulder, because I’m honestly not sure I can handle much more of that right now. “Stay here.”

I crack the door open and listen. The TV’s still going behind the closed door down the hall. No sign of movement. No open robes. I slip out, ease the door shut behind me, and practically tiptoe down the hallway. I don’t think I’ve ever tiptoed in my life, but here I am, trying to act like a guy who definitely did not do what I just did in a girl’s bedroom while her grandma was maybe thirty feet away.

The coast is clear. I make it to the door and go outside, then pull it closed quietly. I hear Brad Pitt making noise in the backyard while I walk down the path to my truck. “Don’t judge me,” I mutter.