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"I want you, Mira. I have since that first day at ASP when you told me in no uncertain terms to back the fuck off. I've dreamed of you. You've become my own personal nightmare." His voice was husky and low, sending a shiver of heat through her to her core.She stared up at him mutely, seeing the question he wouldn't ask in his eyes. She had no answer, torn as she was by the newness of the sensation of touch and by the guilt that still echoed through her. Her hand was on his face and she reveled in the satiny texture of his hair, of the whiskery roughness of his skin. Such a contrast of sensations and she wanted more, so much more.His stomach chose that moment to grumble once more and she laughed. "I think your stomach has other ideas, Hunter."He smiled but it was one of chagrin. "So, what do you say? I'll let you ride on the back of my bike?"Her eyebrow rose, disappearing behind the ragged expanse of her bangs. "Ride behind you on that buzzing monster? I don't think so. You go, get. ”“He has his uses.”“What are they?”“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “He refuses to do them; so I’ve forgotten what they are.”My joke elicited the desired response another of her laughs and a few extra for good measure. I sat down in a kitchen chair, satisfied, if stiff and more than a little sore. I pushed the hardened remains of Jenny’s breakfast to the side, and let my arm drape itself over the tabletop.Jenny sat down on my lap and somehow avoided any painful bruise. She leaned back against the arm I had on the table and draped hers over my shoulder. The hand of the other arm went to my exposed penis and cupped it. She leaned over and began to lick my ear.“Kenny,” she whispered, “have you guessed that I’m over sexed yet?”I didn’t bother to reply; I moaned as she gently rolled my testicles in her fingers. With her thumb, she tickled the base of my erection just above the scrotum. I moved my hand to her outer labia and began to run my index finger along the grove between them. My.
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