Hit the Spot

Not that we wouldn’t end up possibly doing what I was anticipating, but right off the bat? The second we saw each other?

Fuck no.

Sex with Tori Rivera wasn’t thought out and predicated. It wasn’t routine.

It was chaos.

It was colliding bodies and clothes tearing. It was knocking shit over just to get to each other and then fucking on top of that same shit you just knocked over, ’cause you needed it now. Desperate. You couldn’t get it fast enough. It was barely getting through the door and furniture breaking.

It was dirty and rowdy and the kind of crazy that drove a person mad ’cause they wanted it like that. They needed it. They couldn’t wait.

And that was just after the third night I showed.

After getting the kind of welcome I’d gotten on Friday, I wasn’t sure what to expect showing up at Tori’s on Saturday.

It was after ten, so she might’ve been asleep. I might need to wake her if she wasn’t waiting up like before.

But when I swung my leg off my bike after cutting the engine and looked up, primed to start walking up the driveway, I saw that wasn’t going to be the case. Tori was standing in the doorway waiting for me. Her body wrapped in that green Christmas quilt. Her shoulders bare, giving indication she was naked underneath.

I couldn’t get to her fast enough.

And when I did, I did not fuck her with her tits pressing against the glass shower door, like I was anticipating. We didn’t make it upstairs.

Tori dropped the quilt the second I stepped inside, proving I was right, she was naked, then after attacking each other like kissing was something that felt just as good as fucking, spending minutes just doing that, nothing else, I took her hard and fast against the small table she had in her entryway.

Had because we broke that shit. And that was good quality wood, too. Sturdy.

Tori thought it was funny the table broke. She wasn’t mad.

And I eventually got her tits pressing up against the glass shower door, but not until after I took her on the stairs.

That juicy ass in my face. It was inevitable.

Sunday I couldn’t get to her until late again, considering Tori was working and I was spending time saying good-bye to my sister, not knowing when she was coming back around. After finishing up with Quinn, I spent the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening tracking down a replacement table. I had to skip out on family dinner since it took me so long. I ended up not finding shit in Dogwood and had to venture out to neighboring towns.

It was after eight when I finally showed. I used my key to get inside and was just finishing putting the table in place, arranging the picture frames on it the way she had before, when I heard a soft gasp from behind me.

I turned my head and saw Tori looking at the table, and when she lifted her eyes and gave up a smile that made all kinds of shit warm up inside me, tighten, twist, and do other weird shit I couldn’t explain, I went at her.

I fucking rushed at that woman like getting to her was a necessity greater than breathing.

And she rushed at me.

Knocked over the four brown bags of clothes she had sitting in the middle of the floor, which I later found out she had packed up and was looking to take out to her car for a trip to Goodwill, and since I rushed before Tori did, I got to her first, meaning when she knocked over those bags, we ended up fucking on top of them and ripping them open.

Clothes were everywhere by the time we finished an hour later. The ones she packed up and the ones we were wearing, which now had tears in them from our frantic removal.

Tori laughed at that, too, and offered one of her Goodwill sleeping tees for me to wear home.

It had No Pants Are the Best Pants on the front and smelled like her skin.

I wore it home.

Now it was Monday and I was getting to Tori’s without any anticipations for tonight. The only thing guaranteed was the sex, however we’d end up having it, and the eating we’d be doing since I was providing dinner.

Thai.

Tori had five business card magnets from Bangkok Orchid on the side of her fridge. I figured there was a good chance of her liking their food.

I entered with my key again, not knocking, stepped inside, and kicked the door closed, then I started crossing the room with the bags in my hands, hollering out, “Legs. Where you at?”

She came around the corner from the direction of the kitchen, not speaking but drawing my attention anyway.

I froze a foot away from the couch, head turned and eyes lowered, focused on her tits. She was topless.

Fuck.

I stared for a breath, then my eyes kept lowering, being drawn down there, too, skimming over her belly to just below. I stopped on tight, black material clinging.

Fuck.

“Hey,” Tori said in the softest, sweetest voice I’d ever heard her use.

I glanced up into her face then immediately looked back down, chest heaving, nostrils flaring, and dick growing hard against my zipper.

“Sex pants,” I murmured.

Sweet fucking Christ. She was gonna kill me.

Tori started moving closer, made it two steps, and then she stopped.

“You went to Bangkok Orchid?”

I blinked up at her after she spoke, brow furrowing. “What?”

Bangkok what? What the fuck was she talking about? And why was she even talking? We should be fucking already. She was wearing those goddamn pants.

Her hands flattened on her stomach, her eyes widened, focused on the bags, then she started moving toward me again, faster now. “Oh, my God, I love their food. Please tell me you got the pineapple fried rice,” she begged excitedly. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">