Dirty Shots by Marissa Farrar Page B

acted that first day, just walking across his apartment and stripping off her clothes, had taken every ounce of courage. She always longed to be tall and slender, but Eric didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to mind at all.
    He caught her hands and lifted them out from her sides so he could study her. “You look amazing, but you know you’re going to have to lose the underwear.”
    The effort she’d made embarrassed her. “Of course, I know that.”
    “Allow me.”
    Suddenly, she no longer cared about being self-conscious.
    He reached around so his arms laced behind her back, his fingers finding the catch of her bra. The motion brought him close to her, her mouth and nose against his throat, her senses swamped in him. With a deft movement, he unclipped the bra and removed it with one hand, dropping it to the floor beside her. Instantly, her nipples responded, tightening at the cool air and the proximity to Eric. Her breath was shallow and fast, her breasts lifting and falling with every gasp.
    His eyes raked down her body. “God, you’re beautiful.”
    He hooked his thumbs into her panties and slowly rolled them down her thighs, crouching as he did so. She used his shoulder to balance, and stepped out of them. He was still on his knees, his mouth aligned with the little puff of blonde hair she allowed to remain on her mound when she got a wax. His breath heated her sensitive skin, and her shallow breathing became one long inhale as he leaned forward and placed his lips against her lower ones.
    Automatically, Anya reached down, her hand lacing in his soft, thick hair. Her eyes squeezed shut as his probing tongue pushed against her folds, licking slowly up and down, opening her to him. His tongue flicked her clit, sending sparks racing through her, and she gave a little whimper.
    “Oh, Eric.”
    She stood in nothing but her heels. Eric fully dressed in a dark shirt and slacks. He made her feel so wanton. His hands slipped around to clasp her bottom, one cheek in each hand, pulling her closer to his mouth. His tongue delved deep, and her legs began to tremble.
    Then he pulled away.
    Anya let out an involuntary groan. “No, don’t stop.”
    He looked up at her, his mouth slick with her juices, and smiled. “We’re supposed to be working.”
    “You’re too cruel.”
    Eric got to his feet. “Nah, I’m just getting started.”
    She had a sudden urge to taste herself on his mouth. She slid her arm around his neck and pressed herself to him, her breasts crushing against the material of his shirt, the buttons leaving small imprints on her skin. Her mouth found his and she lapped gently at his tongue, tasting her own musky desire. His hands traced light lines on her back, running from her shoulder blades to the dimples at the bottom of her spine. Then he went lower, fingertips dipping between the cleft of her buttocks, to brush gently over her asshole.
    She shivered in a mixture of desire and anticipation.
    He broke the kiss. “Are you ready for this?” he murmured against her mouth.
    She nodded against him.
    From the back pocket of his pants, he pulled out the silver vessel. With it, he also removed a small cylinder of lubricant. He held out his palm to her, showing her the two objects. “You’re going to want me to use the lube,” he said. “Trust me.”
    “I do.” Her voice came out hoarse, ragged in her throat. Every muscle in her body was taut with anticipation. She was frightened of the pain. She was frightened of letting Eric down.
    “Go down on all fours,” he told her.
    She did as he told her. She was still wearing her shoes, the heel a three inch stiletto, slender straps around her ankles holding the shoes to her feet. If she sat back, the points of the stilettos would dig into the fleshy part of her bottom. She suspected Eric would like that.
    Eric’s hands kept up movement across her body, a steady relaxing flow, smoothing from her shoulders, down her back, and to her bottom. She arched against