Screwmates(24)

I tugged him once, experimentally, and he groaned. “Fuck. Yes.”

Eagerly, he slipped his fingers past the lace to rub against my clit. At the same time he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

“Jiminy Christmas,” I gasped, clawing against his back with my free hand. I was on fire. I was fire—consuming every bit of oxygen I could draw into my lungs—and Marc was the fuel, igniting me with his mouth, with his fingers. With the thick cock I pumped in my fist. Hands down, the sexiest moment of my entire life.

“I want you,” he moaned as I rubbed my palm over his crown. “I want you so bad.”

“Have me,” I said, breathily, and all I could think was finally. Finally!

“Hold on. Condom.” Annoying, but honestly I find responsibility kind of sexy too.

I kept my hand on him, stroking him up and down as he leaned back to grab a foil packet from his nightstand drawer. After tearing it open with his teeth, he handed the rubber to me.

Which was no big deal.

Even though I’d never put a condom on a man before in my life. What? It was a skill I never learned in health class, and then it would have been awkward and weird to try and figure it out later, so I always just let my boyfriends do it.

It couldn’t be too hard, I told myself.

After all, I can take apart and put back together all kinds of machinery around the office. Ripping open the wrapper successfully was a good first start. I held up the condom to the light like it was a contact lens and figured out which direction things were happening in.

Fabulous. I was practically an expert already.

With all my focus on my task—okay, not all my focus, because Marc had resumed the finger exploration happening in my panties—I set the condom on his tip and had just started to roll it down his shaft when the doorbell rang.

“Ignore it,” Marc hissed.

“Oh, I am.” Was the condom supposed to unroll this way? It seemed inside out. I took it off his cock and examined it. The tip was there, so that—

“Are you—? For fuck’s sake. Give it over,” Marc said, impatiently. “We’re adding this to the lessons.” It took approximately two seconds for him to place and unroll. The doorbell rang again. this time followed by heavy pounding.

And not the kind of heavy pounding I’d been looking forward to.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, so damn keyed up at the prospect of actually feeling Marc inside me. His fingers went down to make sure I was ready for him, touching just the spot that was craving him most. I whimpered, and his tip started to slide in.

“Yoohoo! I brought you guys some breakfast!” yelled Ava from outside. “Open up. Are you guys asleep? I know you’re home—I see your cars.”

Marc froze, panic in his eyes. “She has a spare key. We have to stop!”

“Don’t you dare stop,” I panted. I was so close, and his fingers kept working their magic, and oh my god it’s Ava we were talking about. “Do you think she’d actually use it?” I truly didn’t know. Ava didn’t make a point of just swinging through very often, and I always opened the door.

The banging paused—both on the door and in the bedroom—and Marc and I strained our ears to see if she’d come in. Unable to stand the suspense on either front any longer, I reached down too, and pressed Marc’s fingers down, reminding him what he was doing. I crested into orgasm just as he started to push further inside, so he stopped to let me ride it out.

It was silent for several seconds. Then there was the distinct sound of a key. In a lock.

The only thing I could hear was our rapid ragged breaths and the beat of my heart echoing in my ears. The faint sound of regret as the sex-train left the station without me in it. Again.

“Fuck.” Marc said, pulling out completely and scurrying off the bed.

“Fuck,” I echoed, grabbing my nightshirt as I jumped to the floor and fled to my room. Really we should have been saying Fuck-Not, because that was totally more accurate at this point.

In my bedroom, I quiet-slammed the door and stood against it breathing heavily. My body was still quivering with the aftermath, but I could hear Ava buzzing around—in the kitchen, maybe?

“Madison?” she called out. “Hey! I brought you cinnamon rolls. I know you always get anxious while you’re drawing for your ComicCon booth. Get up and eat one with me!”

Not what I wanted to be eating at the moment.

But Ava’s cinnamon rolls were actually pretty amazing. Also, I do stress over ComicCon. It was pretty hard to stay irritated at such an excellent friend. “Give me a sec and I’ll be right out!”

I counted to ten, deciding that was long enough to make it seem like I was just waking up. Then, faking a yawn, I shuffled to the kitchen.

Marc was already there, wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. As if I needed a reminder of what I was missing out on. Unf. Did I say Greek god? More like Norse. All he needed was a hammer to be Thor. Then again, he was basically packing that sort of heat in his jeans, so.

I was so busy ogling, it took me a second to notice his horrified expression.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered as Ava brewed more coffee. “She doesn’t know anything.” She totally knew everything, but he didn’t know so I figured it was a good deed to keep up the pretense.

“I can’t find the condom,” he whispered back.