Page 82 of Dad Next Door

Feeling as nervous as I had the first time I’d gotten horizontal with a guy, I let him lead me to the bed and climbed onto it.

Trying not to think about how I looked, I sat on my butt and scooted so I was in the middle of the mattress.

Quinn climbed onto the bed with all the grace of an apex predator and crawled over to me. His lips found mine in a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth.

I lay back, welcoming his solid weight as he blanketed me, pressing me into the mattress.

Still kissing me with those deep, drugging kisses that made my head spin, he threaded his arms under my body and held me tight.

I wrapped myself around him, hooking my ankles together under his ass to lock him in place.

He slowed our kisses, keeping them deep and sensual, and gently rocked his hips so his cock dragged over mine.

One thing I loved about kissing Quinn was how he never rushed. Every touch, every swipe of his tongue or press of his lips, felt deliberate. Like he was savoring each moment of being with me and wasn’t thinking about what would happen next. Like he wanted nothing more than to just exist with me in that moment.

With a low groan, he broke the kiss and trailed his lips across my jaw and down my neck. He nibbled at the skin just under my collarbone, then soothed the spot with his tongue.

Closing my eyes, I ran my hands through his thick hair and lay passively beneath him. He abandoned my collarbone and dragged his tongue up my throat, across my jaw, and to my ear.

“Oh!” I gasped, wiggling under him as he teased the sensitive shell of my ear.

Just when I thought I was going to go crazy from how good it felt, he pulled back to look down at me.

“Can I take off your shirt?” he asked, his voice that sexy rasp I loved so much.

“Yeah. Can I take off yours?”

He nodded, but before I could move to do it, he rolled us so I was on top and he lay under me.

His strong hands gripped the hem of my shirt and tugged it up. I lifted my arms and helped him pull it off.

This was the first time I’d taken my shirt off in front of him, and a niggle of unease passed through me.

I wasn’t ashamed of my looks, but I didn’t celebrate them either. I’d always found the body positivity movement to be a bit toxic. I was all for people loving themselves exactly the way they were, but I preferred body neutrality because it allowed me to be happy without needing to love everything about how I looked.

Quinn’s gaze roamed over my chest to the part of my stomach he could see in this position, then up to my face. The heat in his eyes pushed the lingering fear that he’d realize just how different we looked out of my head and allowed me to focus on him and what we were sharing.

“Now you. I want to see you too.”

He sat up, shifting me so I was straddling his thighs and we were chest to chest. Never taking his eyes off mine, he pulled off his shirt and sweater.

His body was perfection, but before I could get lost admiring it, he drew me in for another achingly sweet kiss.

His big, calloused hands ran up and down my back as his lips and tongue teased mine.

I couldn’t stop touching him. Didn’t want to stop, but my body was tight with need and my hindbrain was screaming for more.

“Can I blow you?” he asked against my lips.

My brain stuttered for a brief second. I’d assumed he’d want to stick to using his hand. I’d been dreaming about getting my mouth on him, but this was a big step for him.

“Tris?” He pulled away and looked into my eyes. “Is that too fast?”

“No.” I let out an involuntary chuckle. “I want to blow you too. I just don’t want you to think you have to reciprocate if you’re not ready.”

He cupped my cheeks, his expression as serious as I’d ever seen it. “Tris. I will never offer anything I don’t want to do. You’re free to say no, obviously, but if I say I want something, then I want it.”

“Sorry.”