He blinked up at me, a little dazed, mouth still parted. Then he seemed to dial back in, a smile taking over his face. “Great answer.”
“I like you,” I told him. “I don’t know what you want from me, though. Is this a hookup?”
His eyes were sharp and clear, almost grey in this lighting. “Not my preference, cher. Brandon, want to date?”
I loved the confidence in him, finding it sexy as hell. I felt a little tongue-tied, but that straightforward approach released my tension and let me respond in kind. “I’d love to. But Mack, I have to tell you, I really don’t know what I’m doing. You’re the first guy I’ve ever been with.”
Mack nodded, still smiling. “I figured, after what you told me. That’s alright. I don’t have all that much dating experience, either. We’ll figure it out together.”
The easy acceptance loosened another knot of worry I’d been lugging around. I really liked that idea, too, of us learning how to be us. Of not being held to some standard I didn’t know about.
“First step,” Mack continued, mock-seriously. “Get that jacket off. Then sit. I want to straddle your lap and kiss you senseless.”
“You’re really on a roll with all these great ideas,” I teased, shucking my jacket and tossing it carelessly over the chair near the door.
There was only one chair in the room without arms, and it looked sturdy enough to hold both of us. I wasn’t willing to sit on the bed yet, as that might give off the wrong signals. I’d love to have sex with him, no question, but I didn’t want to ruin a good thing by going too fast. I settled in the chair and a second later had a sexy brunet straddling my thighs, his hands sliding slowly up my chest as he settled.
“Been dying to get my hands on you,” he purred, radiating satisfaction as he tilted his head up and kissed me.
Our tongues met in a hot, slick glide that sent a shudder of desire through me. Some analytical part of my brain still working noted I’d never reacted like this to a kiss before. I liked kissing, but I’d never felt this jittery sensation in my chest before. Never felt so frustrated with the barrier of clothes. My hands had never ached to find bare skin. Mack had awakened a hunger in me I didn’t know had existed.
Mack groaned in approval as my hands stole under his sweater, palm smoothing over the warm skin of his back. Just this was heady—I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have him completely bare and pressed up against me. I might well lose my mind. The kiss became pure sin—teeth nipping, tongue lathing and licking, the kind of kiss that bypassed the brain and spoke directly to every nerve ending of want and need and desire. It spoke of suction and moisture, sweat and thrusting, promised teasing agony and ultimate rapture. It was unbearably sexual.
I was ever so glad we were sitting, as my knees felt weak and I’d have taken us both to the floor if I’d been standing. God, I had to learn how to do that. To drive him crazy like this.
Mack groaned against my mouth, rocking his hips into mine, and hot damn, he was rock hard in his jeans. I could feel it clearly. If we weren’t technically on a first date, I’d have gotten my hands on that. But I don’t demand sex on a first date—it’s just rude—and…and…shit, my willpower just threatened to become a missing person.
I pulled back with a gasp, and Mack whined, trying to capture my mouth again.
“If you don’t want me to throw you on the bed and suck you off, stop,” I commanded harshly, my breathing erratic and loud.
Those light brown eyes were dark with hunger as he stared up at me, and his breathing was just as out of control as my own. “You really need to come with warning labels.”
It took a second longer than it should have to process that, as most of my brain cells had fled south some time ago, and then I snorted. “Excuse me, you’re the one who kisses like sin.”
He looked surprised and delighted, as if he’d never heard anything like it before. His expression made me think I’d need to get a list of anyone he’d been with, maybe set some operational parameters, break a few jaws. No one should be that insecure about their sexual appeal, especially not while straddling their boyfriend’s lap. The currently very, very riled up boyfriend who needed some sort of release because a cold shower was not going to cut it.
Mack looked down, saw the state I was in, and arched his eyebrows. “Wow. I didn’t really intend to get us this hot and bothered.”
“Yeah, this was poor planning. On both our parts.”
He looked at me hopefully. “Hand jobs be okay?”
I dared anyone, man or woman, to look at that face and say no. Maybe some man in the world would have the willpower to deny him, but it certainly wasn’t this man. No siree. “Bed.”
With a happy sound of agreement, he slid off me, already pulling his sweater off. I took in the sight of his bare back, beautifully fair with a little line of freckles along the shoulders, and felt my common sense click off. I absolutely had to get my hands on that.
I caught him around the waist, stilling him and pulling him firmly into me. He came with a soft gasp of surprise. With him like this, it was easy to unbutton his jeans, maneuver the zipper down, then reach my hand inside and wrap around the length of him. Mack sighed, trusting his body weight to me. I pulled him free so I could both look and have the freedom to move. He wasn’t particularly wide, but he was pretty, a long line that was a nice contrast against my darker skin.
It should have felt odd to have another man’s dick in my hand. Maybe on some level it was. It didn’t matter if it was or not, though. I wanted him too badly. He was hot and firm, and with every stroke, he made this breathless little gasp that stirred me up. I absolutely loved seeing him react like this, knowing I was the one giving him pleasure.
Mack lifted my other hand, putting it against his nipple. I took the hint and pinched and rolled it between thumb and forefinger. He groaned in the back of his throat, and that sound was pure sex. His hands found my thighs, and he gripped them, his ass grinding into my groin as he started thrusting into my hand and god, that was sexy. Sparks raced through me with every shift, and I really, truly hated my jeans just then. I couldn’t let go of him long enough to get out of them, though, and the pressure was borderline pleasure and pain. I shifted my stance and spread my legs a little more so he could press into me easier, evening out our heights. Ah, damn, yeah. That was better. Mack turned his head, his mouth latching onto the side of my neck and sucking on the skin hard.
I knew a split second before he came. He shuddered, a fine tremor sweeping him head to toe, and he let go of the suction on my skin as he arched and climaxed. He made this adorable sigh as he came down from the high, going lax in my arms. I imagined having him like this in the future, content and sated, pressed up against me, and damn near came at just the mental image. And he thought I was the one who should come with warning labels?
He pulled free of my arms just so he could turn, and there was a glint in his eyes that was all hunger. “Your turn, cher.”
Since I was hard enough to drill a hole right through the zipper, I was all for this plan. “We never made it to the bed. You want to—”
“Mm, bed will be easier on me,” he said cryptically. Seizing my hips, he hauled me the remaining two feet, and sat on the edge.