Page 18 of Your Last First Kiss

With a roll of her eyes, she stands, then lowers the zipper of her coat to reveal a dark brown stain down the front of her cream-colored blouse.

That won’t do. Leaving her on the sofa, I head to my bedroom and dig through a dresser drawer, searching for blue fabric. A t-shirt I got freshman year of college. It’s old and soft from years of washing, and I’m a perv for wanting to see her in it.

Standing in the doorway, I hold it in the air and gesture behind me. “Go change. I’m going to get some sweatpants from the laundry room, and I’ll meet you back here.”

“Oh, no, that’s—”

“Penny, change. Now.”

She narrows her eyes at my tone, but her cheeks flame, and she can’t hide the smile trying to break free. She glides toward me and grabs the shirt from my hands.

I take off in the opposite direction because if I watch her walk into my bedroom, I’ll follow until I have her naked body pressed against the door.

* * *

I forcemyself to stay in my small laundry room next to the kitchen for a few extra seconds to make sure I can control myself. I only have sweatpants on, and if I walk out with a raging hard-on, she’ll flee as fast as her little feet can carry her.

She has me so twisted up that I forgot my cleaning service came today, and they always put away my laundry. I’d live out of hampers and laundry baskets otherwise.

When I’m finally mostly sure I can face Penny, I hurry to the bathroom, where I left the T-shirt from my shower.

I open the door and my jaw falls open.

Penny spins toward me with my UNC shirt held tightly against her stomach and like the man-child I am, I can’t drag my gaze away from her perfectly round tits. She’s better than any wet dream I’ve ever had.

She’s a goddamned vision, and this image of her holding onto my T-shirt will be imprinted on my brain forever.

“You’re beautiful,” I say. There’s a gruffness to my voice that gives away my desire.

She taps her fingers against her stomach. Compliments have always made her a little twitchy.

I don’t know who moved, but we’re now standing mere inches apart. Her breath heaves, causing her breasts to rise and fall rapidly. The softness of her flesh bounces with each harsh exhale.

She licks her lips and watches intently as I lift a single finger to the strap of her beige bra.

“Dillon,” she whispers as I trace the strap on her right shoulder with my finger. A delicate moan slips from her lips and my cock roars to life. There’s no hiding an erection in gray sweatpants, and she stares at it with hungry eyes.

“Jesus, Penny.”

Using only the tip of my fingernail, I trace the edge of her bra down one breast, then up her sternum to her throat, watching with barely controlled lust as I leave a light line on her skin in my wake.

We stand, suspended in time, where only she and I exist. A blip in the grand scheme of our lives, but it’s a moment I’ll remember forever.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” I groan. I’ve never meant anything more.

She shakes her head and glances down. A flush erupts on her fair skin. “Dillon, I’m not even… I mean, this bra is probably ten years old, and trust me, nothing on my body falls where it used to.” She gasps and drops her head while trying to cover herself more. “Why did I say that out loud?”

“Don’t do that with me,” I order quietly.

Her head snaps up with a surprised expression. “Do what?”

She brings out a dominant side of me that I’ve never once explored. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and so fucking painful trying to keep it in check.

“However you see yourself, I can promise you, it’s not how I see you.” Slowly, possessively, I run my gaze up her body. “It’s not the bra that consumes me, sweetheart. It’s you. All of you.”

My finger slips beneath the silk covering her right tit, and that delicious moan of hers goes straight to my dick when her palm lands on my bare chest.

“Dillon,” she says on an exhale, and the heat from her mouth brands my skin.