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“Still so fucking responsive,” he says. “I love that about you.”
His fingers stroke me a bit, as much as he can with his hands jammed in my pants, and it feels good. My hips lift into his touch, and Tyler makes a satisfied noise and kisses me. For a minute, it’s exactly what I wanted. I let myself sink into it, and then his hand stops. He shifts his weight and sits back on his heels. His cock is tenting his jeans, and he looks at me with that crooked smile again.
“Your turn,” he says, as he undoes his jeans. “Come on.”
I sit up, adjusting my sweater, and look at him. Is this how I want this to go? I feel like my turn just got cut off pretty quick.
“Come on,” he says again, more coaxing this time. “You used to love it. Remember? In my car? You were so good at it.” He pushes his jeans down and pulls out his erection, fisting it.
“I remember.” What I remember is feeling like I had no idea what I was doing and Tyler telling me I was amazing anyway. Which was nice of him, in retrospect.
“I’ve been thinking about your mouth for months, Soph. Seriously.”
I know he’s trying to make me feel desirable, but I’m a little annoyed that we appear to be finished with the part where I was having fun. I liked what we were doing. I wouldn’t have minded a little more of it, actually. And while I’ve been thinking about sex practically nonstop lately, I’m beginning to wonder whether Tyler and I have quite the same evening in mind.
“Just a little,” he says, his voice dropping to that persuasive register that used to work on me. “Just to start. You don’t have to do the whole thing if you don’t want to.” His hand finds the back of my neck, gentle but insistent, guiding me toward him. “Come on, babe.”
I let him pull me forward until I have to balance on my hands, his cock just inches from my mouth, the flushed tip pointed right at me. Then I close my eyes and wrap my lips around him, sticking out my tongue as I take him down. He groans and pushes his hips forward, trying to push in deeper. I wrap a hand around his shaft for control.
He moans loudly as I suck, moving his hips as he tries desperately to fuck my mouth. It’s a bit too aggressive but using my hand helps hold him back and I can actually feel myself getting a bit turned on. This is it, then. The night I lose my virginity.
To Tyler Bowman.
Well, and why not.
He lifts a hand to my hair, threading his fingers into it so he can try to push my head down harder over his cock as he moves. Between Tyler’s groaning, the creaking mattress, and the music playing in the background, I can barely hear myself think.
Which is probably why, when Tyler suddenly freezes, I look up, confused. I follow his gaze toward the bedroom door.
Vince is standing there.
He fills the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly spanning the frame, his gray eyes fixed on Tyler.
I jerk backward, and Tyler scrambles off the bed, grabbing for his pants.
“Jesus Christ,” I gasp. “Vince!”
He doesn’t answer. He’s staring at Tyler, his expression icy-cold in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Sir,” Tyler starts, fumbling with his zipper.
“Get out.”
Vince’s voice is quiet, but there’s nothing calm about it.
“Mr. Madsen, I—”
“Now.”
Tyler grabs his things and practically trips over himself getting to the door. Vince steps aside to let him pass, his expression unchanged.
I stare at him, mortified. “What the hell, Vince?”
He finally looks at me. “Get dressed. I’ll be downstairs.”
He turns and walks out. A moment later, I hear the front door close behind Tyler.
Fuck.
