The Hook Up (Game On 1) - Page 30

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Holy hell, she’s perfect to me. Firm and teardrop-shaped br**sts so full they spill over a bit on the sides of her narrow frame. A smooth, luminous cream color, they quiver with each breath she takes. Her ni**les, one of which I’ve sucked to a wet peak, are a dark, rosy-brown. Brown sugar topping vanilla ice cream. I want to eat her up. With a grunt of impatience, I tug off the sweater that’s bunched around her neck, and her wild red curls tumble about her face. Then I tear off my shirt; I’m too hot to breathe with it on.

She laughs a little, until I sit back on my haunches and pull off her pants and panties in one, swift move. Then she simply watches me with her big, green eyes. But I see the way her fingers curl into the covers and her beautiful tits lift with each breath she takes.

Lust flares through my veins like fire. It gets worse as my gaze travels over her body.

Jesus. Her waist is tiny compared to the rounded swells of her h*ps that ease into full, smooth thighs, and long calves. Freckles cover her shoulders, even a few on her hips. Endless cream sprinkled with sugar, laid out on her bed like an offering of everything I’ve ever wanted.

My attention settles on the place I need to sink into. That small triangle of curls, so dark red it’s like a valentine between her sweet thighs. Lots of girls wax themselves bare. It’s always creeped me out, like I’m with a preteen. Not Anna. She’s perfect for me.

Suddenly I can’t breathe right. My voice comes out rough and strangled. “Spread your legs and let me see that gorgeous pu**y.”

Her entire body tightens, her soft mouth parting on an agitated breath. Oh, but her eyes gleam bright. She likes my words raw and unfiltered. I’ve never talked much during sex before, never thought to do it. I don’t know why it’s different with Anna. Maybe it’s because I want her so bad, I don’t think about anything but the blinding, gut-wrenching lust and the need to bring her along for the ride. That she seems to get off on it as much as I do has me shaking again. In this way, at least, she is all mine.

Her trembling thighs part. She glistens there, her pink lips plump and wet.

“You’re so beautiful,” I rasp. “So beau—” I can’t talk.

The air between us goes thick. She spreads wider, without shame, without artifice. She’s not even looking at my face, but at the bulge of my crotch where my hard-on is desperately trying to punch through my jeans. With an unsteady hand, I snap the button and pull down my zipper, the sound loud in the quiet room. I’m so f**king hard, my dick springs straight up, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

Her breath hitches, her teeth catching the plump curve of her lip. I hold her gaze as I reach down and give myself a light stroke, enough to make my dick surge, but not nearly enough to satisfy me. She watches the movement, and her breath becomes agitated.

“Do you want this in you, Anna?”

Her gaze flicks up to mine. She’s panting now, licking her lips wet in a greedy way. I nearly groan.

“Do you want me to f**k your pu**y?”

Her abdomen clenches.

“Tell me, Anna,” I whisper, leaning over so I can run my lips from her bent knee, down her soft thigh. She trembles, her flesh jumping beneath my touch. I smell her musk, the faint scent of shower gel lingering in her soft curls, and feel the heat of her core. Up close, she’s all shades of rose. Beautiful.

I give the crease at the top of her thigh a slow lick.


God, I love hearing her say my name. I reward her and kiss the pink, wet lips quivering before me. “Or maybe you want me to suck you,” I say before I do just that.

She arches off the bed, and I have to place a hand on the gentle curve of her belly to hold her still.

I love doing this to her. Licking, nuzzling, f**king her with my tongue, letting myself take deep tastes of her sex. I feel the heat of my own breath as I manage to ask, “What do you want, baby?”

And then I hear her. “I want it all.”

I’m lost. My fingers fumble with the condom, nearly tearing it in my haste to put it on. I surge up, hooking her legs over my arms as I go. My dick sinks into her with one thrust, and she groans so loud and hard that I nearly come right then. But I find her shoulder and hold it steady with my teeth as I pump into her. Her ass clenches against my palms with each thrust.

Strong legs wrap around me, her heels digging into my back to spur me on. I’m going out of my mind.

Sliding my hands up to her back, I swing her up into my lap. Her arms come around me as if they belong there. I fill my hands back up with her plump, irresistible ass, squeezing as I find the sweet spot on her neck with my mouth. She’s fragrant here, smelling of spice and Anna.

“Take me,” I demand against her damp skin, my tongue slicking over the silky surface before I suck. “Take me.”

Her hands grasp my shoulders, and then she’s riding me, her hot pu**y clasping my dick so hard I shake. I clench her ass, trying not to hold her too tightly for fear of hurting her. But it’s a struggle. I want her too much, and my h*ps surge up to meet her on the down stroke. She makes those noises, those little whimpers that get me so hot I’m sweating, my breath a rasp against her neck. Her full br**sts jiggle and slide against my chest with every thrust. I’m in heaven, and I don’t want it to end. It can’t end.


MAYBE I’VE MADE a mistake letting Baylor into my home. It’s a personal thing, showing that part of myself, exchanging stories about our family. Maybe it was too much for him. Or maybe the novelty has worn off, and he’s come to remember that he dates perfect looking jock groupies. I don’t know. I miss decisive me, when it was easy to walk away. Now I’m stuck in class trying not to look over at Drew Baylor, who has been hunched in his seat for the past forty-five minutes.

Tags: Kristen Callihan Game On Young Adult