Dirty Work: A Bad Boy Romance Read Online Free

position, I arched my back, grasped the edges of my shirt, and pulled it over my head. I tossed it down on the floor next to his head.  
    “Thank god,” he said.  
    I took off my bra, too, before I lost my nerve, and added it to the pile. Then I looked at his face suspiciously. “You can’t see me, can you?”  
    “My neck doesn’t spin around one hundred eighty degrees like an owl’s—even though I’d like it to.”
    "Okay, but stay there. No peeking,” I said. I reached down and picked up the bottle of oil again.
    “I don’t need to peek,” he said, his voice smug. “I can visualize exactly what this part looks like.”  
    “Oh really? When did you get a photographic memory?” I said, rubbing oil between my palms.  
    “It’s only photographic when it comes to boobs,” he said, and I laughed in spite of myself.  
    “I’m serious,” he said. “I can picture you right now. Your hair dipping over your shoulders as you lean forward. Your skin pale and perfect as you rub your palms together. Those adorable little freckles across the top of your breasts.”  
    Damn. Someone should invent a magnet that women could wave over their ex-boyfriends’ heads to make the memories of them naked disappear.  
    “And then when your hands are coated, you lightly touch yourself, circling around your nipples. Then you cup your boobs, lifting them.”  
    As he spoke, I realized that I was unconsciously doing exactly what he was saying. I lifted my breasts, spreading the oil around as Jake continued.  
    “Then you squeeze them together, creating the best cleavage ever. You slide your slippery palms up, letting your boobs fall back into place with the sexiest little bounce. God, I wish I could see it.”  
    Jake had his eyes closed, and I knew he was visualizing everything he was saying. Everything I was doing. Even though it was my hands on my body, it felt like his. He was the one telling me to do those things, and it made it almost as good as being touched by him.  
    “And when your boobs are completely coated in oil, your fingers move to your nipples, tweaking them. Making sure they’re hard, even though you know they already are.”  
    I looked down and saw that he was right. I squeezed my nipples gently, imagining that it was his fingers tugging on the stiff peaks. I knew that my hips were going in little circles, too, rubbing against him, but I couldn’t help it.  
    “And then …” he paused, drawing it out for both of us. “Then you lean forward. You lift your hips so that you can control the angle, and you lower your nipples onto my back. I love the moment I can first feel those twin light touches just like … ahhhhh. You have no idea how hot that is.”  
    The firm muscles of his back felt hard against my nipples, but I loved the feeling of mashing myself against him. My breasts slipped easily over his well-oiled body. I couldn’t help moaning as I rubbed against him, but maybe that was okay because he wasn’t able to keep silent either. “That feels so fucking good, Red.”  
    It really did. And it felt right. Like at any minute, he’d move underneath me, turning over and taking me into his arms like he used to. I wanted that so much. But yet … I didn’t. Because if we were going to be together again, I wanted us to truly be together. As a couple. And that wasn’t going to happen. He’d moved out. Gotten himself a new place to live. Clearly, he’d moved on, and I needed to, too.
    But just for now, I could allow myself a few more minutes of bliss. I rubbed myself up and down his back, running my fingers through his hair and across his shoulders as I did so. And when I finally slowed down, I ended up laying on top of him, my head tilted to the same side as his. We were breathing in unison, and it almost felt as if he’d never moved out.  
    “That felt so good.” His voice was quiet now. I wondered if he’d also been thinking about how things had been between us before, or if he