Page 45 of Goode Vibrations

“You’re looking at me funny, Poppy.” His voice was low, rough.

I nodded, distracted by my thoughts and by the ravaging need I felt to yank that stupid towel out of his hands so I could resume ogling his body, which was, in short, a work of art along the caliber of Michelangelo's David. In fact, now that I think of it, Errol was a living embodiment of that sculpture…just with a way bigger cock and his own unique facial features and hair. But the body? That was Errol.

“What are you thinking, Pop?”

That nickname.

It didn’t hurt. Just…twinged a little. But in a good way. It’d been so long since I’d heard it that it was just…interesting. And the way Errol said it? It made me shiver. That fucking accent. Jeez, until him, I hadn’t known just a voice, the timbre and the accent, could make me tingle with desire.

But that intimate tone, just then?Whaddya-thinkin’, Pawp?It set my skin to pebbling.

I met his eyes. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, still in my towel. Cold, and now shivering from desire as much as chill. Nipples so hard you could cut diamonds with them, the metal making them tingle until a single breath on them would have made me quiver with near-climax.

“What am I thinking?” I repeated.

He stood in front of me, towel still held casually in front of him. “Yeah. You know, penny for your thoughts kind of thing.”

I gazed up at him. “I’m thinking…you don’t need this.” I yanked the towel away. Tossed aside. Immediately, his cock began hardening. At face level, too. Yum. “I’m thinking…well, a lot of things. None of them…wholesome.”

He lifted his chin to stare down at me with arousal and ego and curiosity and heat all stampeding in his expression. “Is that so? Do share, then, please.”

“Details?”

“Every last one.” The roughness of his voice, like a file across stone, caressed my skin, made my core feel hot and taut and heavy with need.

“I’m thinking of all the things I want to do with you.” I let my eyes linger on his cock as it unfurled, lengthening and thickening to a full and glorious erection before my eyes. “Toyou, to be more accurate.”

“I wonder if we’re thinkin’ of the same things,” he growled.

“I’m thinking about shoving you onto the floor right where you’re standing and riding you until your cock hurts. I’m thinking about bending over this bed and begging you to pound me from behind.”

“Ohhh you dirty girl, you,” he snarled, his grin sinfully eager. “That last one you mentioned has my interest.”

I stood up. “Does it, now?”

“Sure does.” He stepped close. His hands slid around to my backside, lifted the towel to palm my ass cheeks, one in each hand. “I’ve got this image, see, of you bent over that bed so I can see those big tits of yours hanging and swaying, and doing exactly as you said—pounding into you from behind.”

“How would you do it, Errol? Slow and gentle, or hard and fast?”

“Bit of both, I’d say.” His grip tightened. “What I’ve been picturing is going in nice and slow at first, just so you can get used to me, you know? Then a bit faster, a bit harder. Then I’d pound you until that thick, juicy ass of yours starts shaking.”

I laughed. “Thickandjuicy?”

“Please, take it for the compliment I meant it as, yeah?”

“You make my ass sound like a steak.”

“Well, I can’t think of anything I’d rather eat than a nice, thick, juicy steak. So, yeah. Your ass is exactly like a steak, in a complimentary sort of way.”

I laughed. “I’m complimented, don’t worry.”

He gnawed at his lower lip, and I wanted to take that lip from his teeth and soothe it with my tongue. “One problem, though, Pop, and I just thought of it this second.”

“What problem?”

“I don’t have any frenchies with me.”

I cackled. “You don’t have any what-now?”