“You don’t want me here?” she asks breathily, her fingers curled around the counter edge. Her knuckles are white.
“I didn’t say that,” I answer quietly, still not moving. Because right now, with her soft curves pressed into me, I do want her here.
And unfortunately, my dick chooses this moment to agree with me. It hardens against her and her eyes widen.
“I see,” she murmurs. I rotate away, straightening up and leaning on my crutches once again.
“Sorry about that,” I tell her. “I hope I didn’t crush you.”
With my hard-on.
Courtney Cole is a novelist who would eat mythology for breakfast if she could. She has a degree in Business, but has since discovered that corporate America is not nearly as fun to live in as fictional worlds. She loves chocolate and roller coasters and hates waiting and rude people.
Courtney lives in quiet suburbia, close to Lake Michigan, with her real-life Prince Charming, her ornery kids (there is a small chance that they get their orneriness from their mother) and a small domestic zoo.