Served Hot by Annabeth Albert Read Free Book Online Page A

around his door.
    “So.” His eyes darted around.
    “So.” Tugging him closer, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I kissed him softly on the lips. “Good night.”
    Not letting go of him, I crushed my body against his like I’d been dying to all night. Chest to chest, the collar of his polo shirt brushing my neck, our belts clinking together, finally feeling the heavy pressure of his dick next to mine. At that moment I wanted nothing more than a long, slow grind together, the kind that took hours, edging close and backing off until we were both left boneless.
    I let out a soft huff as he abandoned my mouth to tongue along my jaw and neck. Goose bumps broke out down my back and my dick strained against my pants. His erection pressed against my hip. Forget slow. I was fast becoming obsessed with the idea of quick and dirty.
    “David?”
    “Mmm?” he mumbled against my neck, sending tingles all the way down my spine.
    “Invite me in.” Leaning into him, I made my point with slow rocks of my groin against his. He paused so long I had to brace myself for the rejection. I stiffened my shoulders and pulled away, telling myself that he had to move at his own pace.
    But finally, he turned and dug a set of keys out of his pocket. Unlocking the door, he held it open for me. Once inside, I did a quick once-over of the space, registering a sea of neutrals—brown leather couch, brown curtains, brown rug.
    “Oooh.” His hands roaming all over my back cut my perusal short. His motions were hurried, almost frantic. My wish for leisurely lovemaking vanished. I pulled his shirt loose from his khakis and slid my hands along his bare back. The satin of his skin and the subtle ridges of bone and muscle felt so good I almost purred.
    His breath came in harsh pants, like he’d raced the length of JELD-WEN stadium. His head fell back against the door. Moving my hands before they got trapped against the wall, I ventured to the fuzzy softness of his stomach. I knew exactly what I wanted next—what I’d been craving for weeks. Lust clearing away my usual reluctance to take charge, I undid his belt and his fly and dropped to my knees.
    Not waiting for permission, I freed his hard cock from his boxers. They were the old-fashioned kind—crisp, light blue cotton. I spared a smile before licking the plump head of his cock.
    “Ehhh. Um . . . wow.” Wow was exactly what I was going for. I lapped all around the slit and the sensitive underside. “You . . . don’t have to . . . wanted . . . for you to . . . oh, fuck. ” The last was a strangled sound as I swallowed him deep. Darn near incoherent was even better than wow.
    There were a few things in life I knew I was good at: pulling espresso shots, making pancakes, packing for a road trip, and giving head. I loved the weight of him on my tongue, the tremble in the thick vein snaking up his shaft, the salty slick taste. Making sure he knew how much I loved doing this, I moaned on the down stroke, running my hands up and down his thighs.
    Wide enough to give my jaw a pleasant stretch, he was just long enough to test the limits of my deep-throating skills. But his muttered curses and whimpery moans were more than enough incentive to try to get him deeper. Wrapping my hands around his hips, I pulled him closer, using every trick I knew to relax my throat and take him all the way down to the base.
    “Oh fuck . . . so good.” David never cursed—not when we got poor service, not when he got cheated out of a prime parking spot, not when his team lost. Knowing that I could unleash his dirty side made me giddy and I laughed as I pulled back.
    “ Please. Do that again.” His hands tangled in my hair, the sort of tugging and petting that made my pulse jump and my dick leak. I wanted to put a hand on myself, ease some of the pressure building in my balls, but this was too perfect, too right to move.
    Besides, I could tell from the hitch in his breathing and the tremor in his cock that he was