Romance: North: (Hot New Adult Bad Boy Romance, Alpha Male Rock Star Rebel Romance) (Contemporary Mystery and Romantic Suspense Short Stories) by Jade Allen Page A
Authors: Jade Allen
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tightening slightly across her chest. I considered answering, but after a moment, the sight of her curves and the appealing mystery of what I would find underneath her clothes made it impossible to even think of words. I closed the distance between us, letting my hands fall to Mary’s full hips as I leaned in close.
“I was hornier,” I murmured before I pressed my lips against hers. I didn’t even care about how carefully she’d applied her makeup, or the prospect of messing it up. I let my hands wander over her body, enjoying the satisfying feeling of her heavy breasts, her tiny waist, her firm ass under my fingers. I couldn’t imagine how it was even possible for her to have anything on underneath her clothes. It wasn’t possible; I had to prove she was lying. A hot jolt shot through me at the idea of getting Mary naked again; neither of us had made a move after our first—and only—tryst, but everything about that little incident was burned into my memory.
I found the hem of Mary’s skirt and tugged it up, slowly and carefully. She shivered against me and I deepened the kiss as her lips parted, tasting and probing her mouth. I managed to work Mary’s tight skirt up over her hips and pulled back, already panting slightly from the heat rushing through my body, pooling in my groin like molten metal. “I’ll be fucked,” I said, looking down to see the tiny, barely-there scrap of lace and ribbon that was trying to pass as her panties. It was no wonder I hadn’t seen any evidence of it; in the mirror behind her I could see the fine ribbon that disappeared between the high, full, firm cheeks of her ass.
“In a few minutes, sure,” Mary said, her voice rippling with amusement. I grinned and slipped a hand between her thighs, bringing my fingers up to barely brush against the little scrap of fabric that barely—and I mean barely—covered her pussy. Mary shivered and I began to stroke her slowly, pressing my fingers against her until they worked up in between her already-slick folds.
“How pissed off would you be if I took off all of your clothes right now?” I nibbled along the column of Mary’s throat as I rubbed her, finding her clit by touch; I knew I’d found it when she gasped, her hips bucking, pushing her slick pussy against my fingers.
“Not—not all of them. This took a while,” Mary murmured, a soft moan leaving her lips. I kissed her again as she became wetter and wetter, soaking through her panties every moment that I stroked and rubbed her. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her thong and tugged. The ribbons managed to hold up—somehow—as I pulled the little scrap of fabric down off of Mary’s hips and dragged it along her thighs, letting it fall to the floor.
“I’ll leave the skirt on,” I suggested, cupping her pussy in the palm of my hand and rubbing slowly. Mary’s hands fumbled and tugged at the bottom of the button-down shirt I had put on, slowly working it free of my jeans. She brought her hands back around to the front of my body and began to slowly work the buttons free.
“Bra too,” Mary said breathlessly.
“The shirt’s got to be harder to get into than the bra,” I said, pulling her away from her bathroom counter and staggering into the bedroom beyond. I had been pleased to note that Mary’s room was clean, but not exactly neat; her bed was unmade, there were a few stray dirty clothes that hadn’t made it into the hamper, little things like that told me that she wasn’t afraid to be a little messy.
I tumbled Mary onto her bed and pulled at the tight, low-cut shirt she wore, trying to figure out just how to get it off of her. I wanted, more than anything, to see her fully naked, but I knew there was no chance of that; I’d have to stay content with the lovely glimpse I’d had of her ass, her bare pussy, and her barely-covered tits. Maybe later—assuming we weren’t both killed—we would have time to see each other in more detail.
I pulled the
“I was hornier,” I murmured before I pressed my lips against hers. I didn’t even care about how carefully she’d applied her makeup, or the prospect of messing it up. I let my hands wander over her body, enjoying the satisfying feeling of her heavy breasts, her tiny waist, her firm ass under my fingers. I couldn’t imagine how it was even possible for her to have anything on underneath her clothes. It wasn’t possible; I had to prove she was lying. A hot jolt shot through me at the idea of getting Mary naked again; neither of us had made a move after our first—and only—tryst, but everything about that little incident was burned into my memory.
I found the hem of Mary’s skirt and tugged it up, slowly and carefully. She shivered against me and I deepened the kiss as her lips parted, tasting and probing her mouth. I managed to work Mary’s tight skirt up over her hips and pulled back, already panting slightly from the heat rushing through my body, pooling in my groin like molten metal. “I’ll be fucked,” I said, looking down to see the tiny, barely-there scrap of lace and ribbon that was trying to pass as her panties. It was no wonder I hadn’t seen any evidence of it; in the mirror behind her I could see the fine ribbon that disappeared between the high, full, firm cheeks of her ass.
“In a few minutes, sure,” Mary said, her voice rippling with amusement. I grinned and slipped a hand between her thighs, bringing my fingers up to barely brush against the little scrap of fabric that barely—and I mean barely—covered her pussy. Mary shivered and I began to stroke her slowly, pressing my fingers against her until they worked up in between her already-slick folds.
“How pissed off would you be if I took off all of your clothes right now?” I nibbled along the column of Mary’s throat as I rubbed her, finding her clit by touch; I knew I’d found it when she gasped, her hips bucking, pushing her slick pussy against my fingers.
“Not—not all of them. This took a while,” Mary murmured, a soft moan leaving her lips. I kissed her again as she became wetter and wetter, soaking through her panties every moment that I stroked and rubbed her. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her thong and tugged. The ribbons managed to hold up—somehow—as I pulled the little scrap of fabric down off of Mary’s hips and dragged it along her thighs, letting it fall to the floor.
“I’ll leave the skirt on,” I suggested, cupping her pussy in the palm of my hand and rubbing slowly. Mary’s hands fumbled and tugged at the bottom of the button-down shirt I had put on, slowly working it free of my jeans. She brought her hands back around to the front of my body and began to slowly work the buttons free.
“Bra too,” Mary said breathlessly.
“The shirt’s got to be harder to get into than the bra,” I said, pulling her away from her bathroom counter and staggering into the bedroom beyond. I had been pleased to note that Mary’s room was clean, but not exactly neat; her bed was unmade, there were a few stray dirty clothes that hadn’t made it into the hamper, little things like that told me that she wasn’t afraid to be a little messy.
I tumbled Mary onto her bed and pulled at the tight, low-cut shirt she wore, trying to figure out just how to get it off of her. I wanted, more than anything, to see her fully naked, but I knew there was no chance of that; I’d have to stay content with the lovely glimpse I’d had of her ass, her bare pussy, and her barely-covered tits. Maybe later—assuming we weren’t both killed—we would have time to see each other in more detail.
I pulled the
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