“Looking good, Mac,” he said, playfully. Slipping the long handle of the paint roller extension beneath the lip of my gray shorts, Hampton whistled. “Sweet ass.”
“Focus,” I growled. However, I tried not to smile. “We have to finish this today. I really can’t sleep on that pull-out bed another night. My back is in knots. My ass is in a kink. My neck feels like a mule spent the night kicking me.”
I continued to smear the navy blue paint in sweeping arcs across the wall. My roller needed to be redipped, and I hung my head. Exhausted. Defeated. Who the fuck had wanted to paint? Oh, yeah. Me.
“Buck up Mackenzie. Don’t be defeated,” he called in his best Terminator voice. His Arnold accent was the worst in history but never failed to make me smile.
When I squatted down to get more paint, he slipped his bare toe beneath my shorts this time, lifting. I swatted at his hand. “Stop. You can’t possibly be flirting with me.”
“Flirting?” he gasped. His big arms flexed as he rolled the paint on in even lines. He was so much more graceful than yours truly when it came to doing this stuff. “I am not flirting.”
He glanced down and grinned at me. My heart crimped up in my chest. Even after all these years that grin of his did funny things to my stomach. Did instantaneous and naughty things between my thighs.
I squirmed, not so sure I wanted to stand up at the moment. A glance at our bed showed it still nearly buckling under boxes and boxes of stuff we needed to get out of the way to paint.
I sighed. “I’m glad you’re not flirting.” I rested my roller in the paint pan and sat back for a minute, crossing my legs crisscross applesauce style.
“I’m begging,” he growled and propped the extension roller against the already blue wall. “I’m pleading. I’m…desperate,” he ground out and dropped to his knees, coming at me like a big animal.
I snorted laughter, but seeing that movement, hearing that tone, my skin prickled into goose bumps and a warm rush of fluid escaped me, making me overtly aware of my now plump and slickening nether lips. My god, he was turning me on. And then some. I’d officially lost my mind.
“Stop,” I said, but it came out in a whisper. I put up a half-hearted palm to keep him at bay. Hampton immediately crashed right into my open hand and forced my arm back. He crushed to the front of me, buckling me under his weight and driving me onto my back on the carpet. Only the edges of the room were draped in plastic and where I sat the tarp had gotten shoved aside.
“The carpet!” I gasped.
“The carpet!” he echoed, mocking me. His lips found my throat. He dragged his teeth lightly over my pulse, making me jump at the sensation. I went warm all over, especially between my thighs where a steady pulse of arousal now beat.
He kissed me silent, big warm hands shoving up under the edges of my shorts to cup my bottom. I was bare underneath. I mean, how much does a person need to dress to paint walls and get dirty?
Get dirty…I laughed.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about being…” I shook my head.
He waggled his fingers against my naked flesh and his blue eyes went dark and he smiled at me. It was a big bad wolf smile. It made my blood thump wildly. “You appear to be…” His fingers climbed higher, rerouted and slid around to find the moist folds of my nether lips. I couldn’t suppress a sigh. “Naked under these tiny shorts. And a bit aroused.”
“I’m fine.” I lied.
“You’re lying.” Hampton dipped his head, hiding his eyes from me, and bit my nipple through my faded white tee. It was a thousand years old and had the now washed out slogan PEACE across the breasts. He bit me right on the C and a shiver worked through me, my pussy clenching tight around nothing. I found myself wishing he’d put that finger inside me.
Instead, he bit me again and gently rubbed the tip of his finger over my swollen clitoris. I moved my hips up to meet him and Hampton chuckled. “Fine, eh?”
“We have painting to do,” I managed, but his fingers did what I’d wished. One finger, two fingers, drove into me with enough force to make me lift my hips a little to accept him. The movement slammed his palm against my clit and I found myself bearing down to get more friction. I held my breath, moving my hips as he flexed his fingers.
“I think we have fucking to do first.”
“But…tacky paint. Weird patterns will get on the walls. Streaks. Um…” I was losing my stream of thought because Hampton was pulling my tee up and my bra down. His mouth settled, hot and wet on my nipple. When he sucked, I felt the draw and tug echo in my pussy. “I—”
He cut me off with a nip to the tip of my breast. I started, squirming beneath him as he pushed me firmly to the carpet. “Stop moving, Mac.”
“No,” I sighed as he added a third finger to the mix. I had to put up a good show, didn’t I?
I didn’t fight him when he tugged my shirt off and popped the front clasp of my bra to remove it. I wasn’t very good and protesting, it seemed. He skimmed his hands along my skin and down my arms softly. He squeezed my hands and stared me down as I looked up at him. I could sit up if I wanted to, and yet…I didn’t.
“No,” I said again, just for show. I grinned at him and he grinned back.
“Yes,” he cajoled. He slipped his lips along my shoulder and my clavicle. When he found my nipple with his teeth, tugging out taut so that I hissed, he thrust deep again with his fingers. My pussy clenched up tight around his probing digits and I moved my hips just enough to trigger soft warm places deep inside me that needed it.