One More Time(31)

I moan over and over and over again. My knees buckle, and I can barely stand.

Tanner catches my weight and cradles my body with one arm, using the other to tickle my left tit as his mouth wraps around my right.

It’s the world’s hottest game of Twister except my body is the board.

I want his body to be the board too. I want to twist around him, want to coil and twine.

As if he can read my mind, Tanner releases his mouth and stares up at me. “Can I take you to bed, Jenna Stahl?”

“Yes, please.”

I’m surprised I have the willpower not to scream it so loud that everyone still on set can hear. Tanner must be able to hear the excitement in my voice, because his eyes darken and he smiles before bending down to lave my nipples one last time. He’s worshiping my body, and every second of it is heaven.

“I love the way you taste,” he says.

“Like this?” I slip my hand down the waistband of my leggings to slide a finger through my wetness. Then I bring it to his mouth and watch his eyes roll back as he sucks my finger clean. I’m pretty sure my eyes roll back too, at the feeling of his rough tongue on my sensitive fingertip. At the carnal promises he’s making.

Abruptly, as if he can’t stand another second of waiting—which I understand because I can’t stand another second of waiting—he turns with a growl and leads me the five paces from the middle of the trailer to the small back bedroom. It’s cramped and dark, which only makes it seem sexier and more illicit. I feel like we’re Rose and Jack in that vintage coach aboard the Titanic. This trailer has windows, too.

I want to see if we can steam them up just as much.

I’m pretty sure I let out a little squeal of glee as Tanner places me down on the bed. I stare up at him, his angled jaw and deep blue eyes and the sharp stubble on his chin that I can already imagine rubbing down my stomach and between my legs. He’s just as hot today as he was the day that we met.

And I want him just as much.

My body agrees. I’m so wet I’m sure I won’t even need his fingers to prep me for his cock—but I want them.

“Shirt. Off. Now,” I command, desperate to feel his skin on mine.

Tanner quickly obeys, throwing his T-shirt over his head and revealing not only his rock hard abs but an impressive bulge peeking through the top of his famous Calvins.

He is on top of me now, his torso upright but his legs straddling my stomach. I prop myself up on one arm, leaving my other hand free to explore his perfect body. I take my hand and move it down from the tip-top of his ear, down around his neck, through the peaks of his collarbone, then across his chest muscles. I gently run the tips of my fingers across his nipples.

Now it’s Tanner’s turn to moan, to wordlessly tell me how much he enjoys this.

I follow the cue, replacing my fingers with my mouth on his chest, while stroking down the ridges of his stomach until I reach the very top of his pants. This time Tanner stops me.

“You first,” he says, and I’m not about to protest.

He watches as I start to shimmy out of the leggings.

“I missed that stomach,” he says as my hands touch there. “And those hips,” he says as my pants slip down around my hip bones. “And that ass. God I missed that ass. No panties? You’re such a naughty, perfect girl.”

My heart trips and my eyes widen at his use of my old pet name, but I don’t have time to dwell before his hands are on me, grabbing each part that he’s named, giving them a squeeze before he peels my pants off the rest of the way.

“And these legs, and these knees and these ankles and these feet.” He runs his mouth along every part.

I let my legs fall apart, so wet and ready for him to move up to where I want him, but instead he just stops and stares for a moment.

“And your perfect pussy. I missed that the most.”

I watch the bulge in Tanner’s pants get a little bit bigger. Maybe I own him already—or is it still?

My chest tightens at the thought. Tightens and bursts, like it both hurts and thrills me to have that thought.

And then I’m not thinking anymore because he slides his face up between my thighs and blows. The cool air shocks my clit and excites it all at once, and I automatically start to reach down to relieve this need he’s kindled in me, but he stops me.

“This is all mine.”

I trail my right hand over my left breast instead, pinching and swirling around my nipple. He watches with hungry eyes. He always loved to see me pleasure myself, and I’ve loved to perform since the very first time I did it for him. I moan at my own touch just to make him a little jealous. He dances his mouth around in responding torture, hovering just above my pussy where I want him.

Such a fucking tease.

I cry out in frustration, and finally, he pities me.

His face dives forward, and he strokes up me with a flattened tongue. I let out a hiss of delight. He licks me until I can’t breathe, until I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. I buck underneath him as my orgasm hits hard, but he doesn’t stop, and I can feel a second rolling in on the heels of the first.

“I need you inside me,” I say as I try to push his head away, but he fastens onto my clit and sucks, while still obeying me by slipping two fingers deep inside my body. I’d meant that I wanted his cock, but when he crooks his fingers and finds my g-spot, the shuddering spasms of an even bigger orgasm push aside any disappointment.