By Megan Hart
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Extra info for Layover
He stayed put, but both hands went up to the wall as he leaned forward a little to keep his face out of the direct spray. Water pounded the back of his neck and shoulders, the heat making tension hard to form. But not impossible. When Julia’s tongue eased along his crack, Graham’s muscles tightened again. Her low laughter sent a shudder through him. His cock twitched and filled, stretching until the head tapped his belly. His hands skidded a little on the shower wall as his fingers curled. Julia ran her hands over his butt and down to his thighs, then up again, her nails scratching.
Julia’s expression had gone serious, her smooth brow furrowed. She wasn’t looking at his face, but at the place her hand disappeared into his pants. Up. Down. She jerked him slowly, constrained by fabric. When she met his gaze, she smiled. “It feels like you have a nice, thick cock, Graham. ” His hands went at once to his waistband and pushed at it. His briefs got hung up for a moment on his erection, but he was practiced enough at stripping past a hard-on to get beyond it. Julia, still gripping him, used her other hand to help him, but the pants went no farther than his upper thighs.
She still had the pen engraved with the company logo. She wouldn’t forget her first sight of his eyes, a hazy gray-blue, when he took off the blindfold. Or the sound of his name when he’d introduced himself, or the press of his palm in hers when they shook hands. “You’re good at taking direction,” she’d said. “You’re good at giving it,” had been his reply, and his smile had sent heat trickling all through her. The session had continued, but if anything important happened, Julia didn’t remember it.
Layover by Megan Hart