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“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.
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