One-Timer (The Baltimore Banners Book 9) by Lisa B. Kamps

Author:Lisa B. Kamps [Kamps, Lisa B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BimHaven Press
Published: 2016-12-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Dillon was dreaming.

No, dreaming was the wrong word. It was more like fantasizing, the stuff of those hot but embarrassing dreams from when he was a teenager. Shit, wasn't he too old for that?

No, you never got too old for that. But damn, he didn't want to wake up and embarrass himself. He wasn't home, in his own bed. He was conscious enough to realize that. And he didn't want to wake up from a wet dream in bed, next to Maggie. He'd be fucking mortified.

But shit, this dream was a good one. Warm lips trailed along the hot skin of his chest. Lips, and the teasing ends of soft hair. Back and forth. Gentle, playful. Lips closed around one flat nipple and bit down, the pressure just hard enough to make his cock twitch. And fuck, this would be so much better if his cock was free instead of being held back the confines of his jeans. But even that didn't matter, not when a delicious pressure traced and cradled the length of his cock through the soft denim.

No, he was a fucking liar. He wanted to feel hot flesh along his cock, rubbing. Gliding. Squeezing.

In his dream, a soft hand popped the button of his jeans and eased the zipper down. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it, waiting. Yes, there, finally. His cock sprung free and a warm hand closed over him, stroking the length of his cock from tip to base and back again.

And fuck, he needed to wake up, before he did something stupid. Before Maggie woke up and saw him jerking off right next to her, in her own bed. He'd never be able to look at her again, he'd be too mortified.

But fuck, it felt so good.

In his dream he moaned, his hips thrusting up as the hand grew bolder, the strokes longer and more intense. He'd give himself another minute to enjoy it, another minute to revel in the sensation of the hand stroking his cock and the hot mouth trailing along his chest, down. Down…

The hot mouth closed over him, sucking. Dillon moaned and thrust his hips up, sinking his cock deeper into the warm wet dream mouth. He groaned and thrust again, harder. Over and over. And fuck, he needed to stop, needed to wake up. Maggie must hear him, he could hear her own little moans—

Dillon's eyes shot open and he froze.

He wasn't dreaming. Fuck, this wasn't a dream at all.

He reached down, his hand closing over the back of Maggie's head, his fingers tangling in her hair. Desire swept through him, burning and intense, threatening to push all reason from his mind. Fuck, her mouth felt so good on him. Slick and hot. Tempting. Demanding. It would be easy, so fucking easy, to just give in, to let himself be carried away.

But he couldn't. It wasn't right, he couldn't allow himself to get carried away, to be swept into this dream-turned-reality. He tightened his fingers in her hair and tugged, gently pulling her mouth away from him.

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