Shimmying the smooth red material up my legs, I wiggle out of my black thong, tuck it in his shirt pocket, prop my heels up, and spread my thighs. “Prove it, Mr. Brodie.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” His lips part on a heavy, desperate breath, pupils blown as they zero in on where I want him. “I won’t be gentle.” “Don’t worry. I like it rough.”
