He remembered Courtney, and if only – if only all had gone well with her, that day in the motel.
Without letting go of her left hand, Hank had turned his lips to kiss her right fingers, a wet and needy kiss. He’d felt the smooth, spongy texture of her tongue and it electrified him.
He mustn’t go any further, Hank had told himself. He knew from the girls in Akron that once he passed a certain point, kissing a woman as intriguing as Courtney Feather, he’d be unable to stop himself. But this kiss with this girl! Unlike any other he’d ever experienced with a woman, it seemed divine providence intervened to bring their bodies together. He felt the stirring of passion in his pants. It felt so good, rubbing back and forth against his shorts, the head poking out from his boxers, feeling the smooth cotton of his chinos as he grew to a full arousal.
He began to thrust his body toward hers. For the first time, he knew she wanted him, just as he wanted her. Her eyes, her mouth, her tongue all told him, I want this. He felt the friction of his erection, a protrusion that now stood straight up between his legs, demanding release.
He buried his lips into hers, his tongue deep inside, kissing her in a way he never thought possible. It felt exactly right. He broke free and breathed hard. He read it in her eyes. Now, Hank.
Hank went over and locked the office door, feeling the bobbing pleasure between his legs with every step. He came back, grabbed her by the waist, and led her to the first vacant room. He dimmed the lights.
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