Topped by Kayti McGee Read Free Book Online Page B

Resurrected.
    We fall out of the elevator, and she’s giggling like an adorable schoolgirl. I take a moment to picture her in a short plaid skirt with pigtails, and my cock jumps in my jeans.
    My evening just can’t possibly get any better. Even if I didn’t get a chance to talk to Dream Agent.
    To be fair, I didn’t plan on hooking up while here. I joke about it with the bros, but I’m also all business. It just sort of happened. Post-interview. As you do. She is gorgeous and hilarious, a warm person that you want to get lost with. I bet she’s a great writer. But I don’t get lost with girls, just with words. More importantly, just my own words. It’ll be a fun romp and off we go. I’m dating my career right now. But I’m not about to pass up a great opportunity for sex. My bros would kill me.
    Buddy Lunch is going to be effing fantastic this weekend. Time to write some stories I can tell them later.
    I grab Miranda by her gorgeous little waist and direct her down the hallway that leads toward my room. A couple emerges a few doors down, I salute them and carry on, dick already throbbing. I can smell her arousal from here and it’s intoxicating.
    Guys can bitch all they want, but I love pussy. A woman’s pussy is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I know people don’t expect it because I write about dicks all the time, but let’s be real here, my dick is pretty damn amazing. It’s the inspiration for every book I’ve ever written. But pussy? Slay me now. The smell, the taste, the feel, I love it. Miranda is about to see God fifty-seven times tonight, because my oral skills are fucking legendary.
    We barely make it into my room before my cock is aching against my jeans. Fucking prisons. I should be a nudist. Maybe that would be enough to propel me back into the gym. Not that I need a lot of work, mind. I’m still goddamn sexy, but there’s something pretty freaking awesome about walking around completely ripped and having girls wipe the drool off their faces.
    Or, uh, so I recall.
    What I like about Miranda, though, is she doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who would drool. She seems normal, cool. The kind of girl you could take to Buddy Lunch and not have her try to replace the Fireball with Buttery Nipples. Not that—not that I want to take her home and introduce her to the bros, but. Of course not. She’s just a breath of fresh air compared to all the other vapid lays I’ve experienced in the past couple years. It doesn’t really matter, because I never see them again, but I was starting to forget what it was like to fuck someone who was really fun to be with.
    My cock jumps again. I’m fucking hungry for this girl. I kick shut my door and drop her on my bed. She lets out a squeal, but I am right on top of her, silencing her mouth with my own. Not only do I love pussy, but I love, fucking McLove, making out. Kissing is so sexy. The way lips and tongues move together is fucking hot. See how poetic I am about it? I should be a writer.
    Once, not to brag (ha! Who am I kidding? Of course I’m effing bragging) but I got a girl off just by kissing her. Life goal: accomplished.
    I wonder if I can do it again? I slide off of Miranda and tuck her into me. I start slow, looking into her beautiful blue eyes and running my hands through her hair. Seduction is so important in sex. She’s got to fucking feel it before I even touch her.
    “Forgive me a moment,” I whisper in her ear and she shivers. I reach down and unbutton my jeans, but leave them on, so my poor cock has some breathing room. This is as much for me as it is for her. If I just wanted an orgasm, I’d jerk myself off. I’m efficient and damn good at it. Sex, on the other hand, is meant to be savored. And I’m a goddamn connoisseur of coitus. A sommelier of sexing, if you will. The head chef of shagg—okay, yes, I’m done.
    Her hands reach for my pants, sweet girl, ready to help me out, but I tuck one arm under me and pin the