"I'm waiting, Sarah." My hand has been coasting up her thigh and my fingertips reach her panties now, my index finger slipping between her unsettlingly-soft p***y and the cotton crotch, tugging, then pressing back in, knuckle to her slit, rubbing, twisting, making her gasp. "What qualities in a man are important in your world?"
"Umm." Her lashes flutter, neck flushing. "Honesty. Compassion. Humor."
"I'm none of those things," I rasp against her mouth—just as her flesh blooms open, allowing me to knuckle gently deeper and tease her c**t.
Her grip flies to the arm of the couch, back arching on a rocky intake of breath. "Guess you're out of the running then."
"Your wet p***y says I'm not just in the running, I'm in first place."
"Mr. Colliver—"
I don't know why her formal use of my name
