Sylvia pulled her hands free with a swift tug and, before he could react, she leaned in and cupped him boldly, groping his cock through his jeans.
"Jesus Christ!" The curse burst from him. His body betrayed him instantly, his cock swelling hard against her palm. Joey's head tipped back against the chair, a strangled sound slipping from his throat, halfway between a groan and a curse.
Sylvia laughed softly. "Mmm. You can lie with your mouth, Joey, but not with your cock." She squeezed him gently, her eyes never leaving his face. "It remembers me even if you pretend you don't."
Joey's hands hovered uselessly in the air, then landed on her shoulders, trembling, caught in the indecision that had always defined him when it came to her. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and when he finally looked down at her, his eyes burned with undeniable ache.
"Goddamn it, Syl…" he muttered.
