Crying Shame by Rebel Shaw

Author:Rebel Shaw [Shaw, Rebel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ryan Black
Published: 2022-08-29T18:30:00+00:00

Thirteen

Graham

Is it possible to have some sort of permanent damage from an erection? Like, so hard and painful for extended periods of time it’ll never subside no matter how many times you beat off? Can you imagine going to the doctor for an everlasting hard-on? I always made fun of those commercials on TV, the ones talking about seeking medical assistance for erections lasting longer than four hours.

Now, I’m contemplating my options.

Tonight has been perfection, even if I was in pain most of the meal, but can you blame me? Addy is wearing a simple jean skirt—making her legs look fan-fucking-tastic—and a blue top. Both beg to be slowly removed from her body, and, boy, do I have plans for that when we get home. I’ve gone over it so many times in my head since she opened the door, I could have amnesia and still give a play-by-play.

“Thank you,” she says softly as I take her hand and lead her from the restaurant.

“You’re very welcome,” I reply, pushing through the exit and escorting her to my truck. When I open the passenger door, I don’t want to release her. I love the way her hand feels nestled inside mine.

Addy stares up at me, her eyes shining with an eagerness I’ve come to love and appreciate. She’s a genuinely happy, optimistic person, and when those sexy brown eyes are locked on mine, I can’t help but feel a little excited to be under their spell, secretly praying a little bit of her sunshine seeps from her body into mine. I can see exactly why she’s in the profession she’s in.

“Hey, you.” Addy faces me and slides her hands up my chest.

I wonder if she can feel the thundering of my heart beneath her palms.

Before I can say a word, Addy goes up on tiptoes and presses her mouth against mine. I forget about everything, including the fact we’re standing in the middle of a parking lot, and just feel. Her lips are soft and taste faintly like tea, the strawberry cheesecake we shared for dessert, and something uniquely Addyson.

I want more.

My fingers curl, digging into the hair at the base of her neck, as my tongue delves deep. I wonder if I’ll ever tire of this. Of kissing her, feeling her skin beneath my fingers. Of craving a person, and not just for her body.

It still freaks me out how drastically I saw a change. One minute, she’s Addyson, my best friend’s sister. The next, she’s Addy, the woman I can’t stop thinking about throughout the day and the one I picture when I beat off in the shower.

Daily.

“Get a room!” someone hollers from across the lot.

Ripping my lips from hers takes Herculean strength, but I manage. Her eyes are glazed over, and when they finally focus on mine, a blush creeps up her neck and stains her cheeks. “Umm…”

I clear my throat, grab her around the waist, and lift, gently setting her in the passenger seat. Addy squeals, grasping my shoulders as she moves.

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