Free Electrify Me (The Fireworks Series Book 1) by Bibi Rizer Page A

mean I’m going to apply to be a firefighter, so I need core strength.” Wow. Way to sound about five years old, Charlie.
    Gloria doesn’t seem to mind. She starts unbuttoning my shirt from the bottom up. “You’re going to be a fireman? God, that’s so sexy.” She opens my shirt and trails her hands over my stomach and chest. “I’m going to train my cat to get stuck up trees.”
    “Firemen don’t really…” But I don’t finish my thought.
    Gloria grabs me by the front of my trousers and drags me down her hallway. “Come have a shower with me.”
    She’s half-naked by the time we even get to the bathroom. After she turns on the shower, she strips the rest of her clothes while the water heats up. I just stand there like an idiot, watching her.
    Her body is like an art class–one of those ones that emphasizes the circles and curves that make the human shape. She has an adorable round face, soft rounded shoulders the color of sun-kissed sand, perfectly round, plump breasts with tantalizing pink circles around her pert nipples. Her hips curve out from her waist, and there’s a little round tummy below her cute little belly button. Without the black tights, the shape of her legs is even sexier, if that’s possible. They look both soft and strong, as though I could rest my head on them or they could choke the life out of me like a python. Even her knees are little circles–even her toes. The smallest one looks so much like a vanilla jellybean, I want to get down on the floor and pop it in my mouth. I have a feeling she might like that.
    The only angular thing on her body is the triangle of shiny brown pubic hair, which is like an arrow saying “insert penis here.” I’m still staring at it, the steam of the shower rising behind her, when she speaks.
    “You might enjoy the shower more if you’re naked too.”
    I have never stripped faster in my life, including the time I fell asleep on an anthill.
    The shower is only a few degrees off scalding, so much so we both gasp from the heat of it. But we soon acclimatize. She opens a bottle of some citrus-smelling soap, and we lather each other from head to foot. It feels splendid to be clean. She takes care with the cut on my head, declaring it to be smaller than she expected and healing on its own. I finger-comb the tangles from her hair, with considerable help from a hazelnut-scented conditioner. When both of us are squeaky clean and smelling of fancy desserts, we just let the hot water stream over us, and our hands and lips, tongues and other parts meet and mingle and tease each other.
    Gloria lays her hands on my shoulders and, with a little pressure, invites me downwards. I don’t need to be asked twice. Kneeling in the shallow, swirling water, I slip one of her gorgeous thighs over my shoulder and sneak a glance at her face. She looks down at me, her lips pursed, her eyes alight with expectation and desire.
    And something else. God. I could fall in love with her by sunrise.
    I slide my fingers up her wet thighs and find her opening, slowly pushing two fingers inside. She makes an approving noise, curling her fingers into my damp hair and pulling my face forward. I part her folds with my other hand and behold the sweet, little round button of her clit, like a pink pearl on a bed of satin, just asking to be kissed and sucked.
    She gasps as I flick it with my tongue and moans softly when I circle it with my lips and suck gently, moving my fingers inside her.
    There’s something meditative about giving oral. As together we develop a rocking rhythm–her hips and my tongue making interlocking circles–I feel myself relax, body and soul. All the knots this night has tied me up into begin to fall away. And then other knots untangle too, as though my past just washes away with the soapy water, swirling down the drain like the nothing it is. There is no past. There is only now. I swear, licking a girl’s clit is like yoga.
    I glance up to see her looking down, such