“I’m not jealous,” he mutters, lowering his voice as an old lady comes around the corner pushing a full shopping cart. “I’m just free-ballin’ it in these shorts,” he adds, discreetly adjusting himself. I snort, my nose catching a whiff of his crisp cologne as he steps in closer, letting the lady pass behind us. I stifle a groan. I hate how much I react to even just the smell of his cologne. My skin feels like it’s tingling and I wanna bury my face at his neck and breathe him in. And I don’t know if it was intentional, but as he shifts, his crotch brushes against the outside of my hand. Holy
...more
