I Blackmailed Her Brother

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I Blackmailed Her Brother Page 22

by Jessica Frances


  “I’m half-tempted to name the kid Angel just in case, so at least I can call them an angel even if they don’t act like one.”

  We all laugh again, and then Ava slowly turns her speed back up to the first level as she resumes her slow tread.

  “Speaking of pregnancy, I have a question for you guys. Cynthia, you might as well put your headphones on for this one.” Sasha gives me an apologetic smile.

  I roll my eyes, wishing I did have headphones to escape whatever hell I’m about to get stuck in. I already know we’re heading back into sex territory.

  “I thought once I was pregnant I would sort of lose my sex drive,” Sasha announces, again not at all concerned at the way her voice carries. “I mean, I know I’m hormonal, but I thought I would feel fat, bloated, and definitely not in the mood. Instead, I’m basically horny all the time. As in, Dec can barely keep up. Is that normal?”

  “Zander was definitely into pregnant me the first time. We were all over each other. Then, when I was pregnant with Kiera … not so much. I think we just needed sleep too much to bother having sex all the time.”

  “Oh yes, I remember that. We called that the quiet time at the office, or as Joey called it, the quiet before the storm.”

  “Storm? What storm?” Ava snaps, sounding defensive.

  “Two kids at home means your only alone time was during the day when you had Jensen in daycare and me keeping Kiera amused at the front desk. Pretty sure you only were getting some during office hours. I had a copy of Zander’s schedule, and he had an hour before or after lunch put aside for you every single day!”

  Ava blushes, finally looking like she might have gotten some exercise today. “We didn’t always have sex! A lot of that time we talked, or even just fell asleep on his couch. We were sleep-deprived, and I missed him!”

  “Aw … that is so sweet,” Teagan moons. “I found it so hard to transition from girlfriend, full-time manager at the childcare center, and being so independent and free with my time, to also now including being a mother. I used to get all of Joey’s attention, but now it’s hard to get any. To be fair, he used to get all of mine, and now I basically give everything to Michaela.”

  “It’s a tricky mix, and you shouldn’t be hard on yourself. Michaela is still so young. It’s normal for you to not have it figured out yet. Hell, by the time Zander and I started to figure it all out with Jensen, I found out I was pregnant with Kiera, and then we all had to adjust again.”

  “And you seriously want more now that you’ve found a groove with Jensen and Kiera?” Sasha questions.

  Ava thinks on this for a while, while I turn down my speed again, the ache in my legs shifting from an accomplished burning to just plain painful. I have been here for almost three hours. It’s time I get back to real life.

  “I like a full house. I admit that when Van left for college, I missed him,” Ava says, referring to Zander’s younger brother. “Jensen was still so young, and I missed having someone to talk to, someone to keep me company who wasn’t just interested in my boobs for milk and only talking in babbles. And now Jensen is talking, Kiera is getting there, too, and my home is so full of words, laughter, and sometimes tears. I fear it going quiet again while part of me craves some quiet time. I don’t ever want our house to be empty.”

  “That sounds like you are talking about a lot more than just one more kid,” Teagan points out.

  “I’m not saying I want lots more kids, but I do want at least another one. Three sounds like a good number, and surely the odds of one of them being a hermit and never leaving me will be pretty high, right?”

  I snort as the other two laugh.

  “I think you’re supposed to want your kids to flourish and get lives of their own,” I say.

  “Of course I want that. I just want them to do that from the comfort of my home, with me and Zander. Forever. That isn’t wrong.”

  “I think it might be,” Teagan mutters.

  “I’m with you. This kid is not leaving me until he or she is forty,” Sasha announces, wrapping her arm around her belly.

  “You both are hopeless!” Teagan says through a laugh.

  Ava shifts her confident expression to Teagan. “You can’t tell me you are looking forward to the day Mickie moves out.”

  “She’s not even one!” Teagan whines. “Can we not talk about that shit right now?”

  “See!” Ava sounds triumph.

  “I know she is going to leave me when she’s ready, which I can assure you is unlikely to be at forty, and I am sure I’ll shed my fair share of tears when that happens. But I’ll be encouraging my kids to aim higher than hermit life.”

  “I think Joey will be on our side,” Sasha argues.

  With how protective he is of Michaela right now, I think she is right.

  “Whatever. With hopefully four rugrats racing around our house, we might be appreciating getting the house to ourselves,” Teagan points out.

  “I’ve never asked your feelings on this, but do you want children one day, Cynthia?” Ava asks.

  I think it over, finding I have a different opinion each time I give it serious thought. I seem to seesaw between wanting to have kids and feeling like I don’t have a mothering gene inside me.

  “Maybe one day.” I shrug. “I just know that, right now, I don’t feel ready to have a kid.”

  “Luckily, you get to be an awesome auntie instead,” Teagan offers, and I smile.

  Hearing Jensen call me auntie for the first time was a special moment. Although it sounded more like auggie. Still, it warmed my heart and cemented my love for the little guy.

  “Yeah, I am content with that for now.”

  I slow my speed down again, finishing the last dredges of my water then wiping my sweaty brow with the bottom of my T-shirt. Then I check my phone to see if I have any messages. I still have time to shower before I need to get to the office.

  “Time to save Joey, I think,” Teagan states, slowing her own speed and stretching out her arms as she treads along slowly.

  “Yeah, quiet time for Mommy is usually crazy time for Daddy,” Ava agrees.

  “I’m going to wake my man up with a blowjob. Sounds like I gotta get as much sex in as I can now,” Sasha announces loudly, causing a few interested ears to perk up.

  “And you think I overshare,” Ava grumbles, grabbing her coffee, which I still can’t believe she brings to the gym, and then we are all climbing off and moving toward the showers.

  “So, when does Scarlett and her family return? I know Harvey and Nix are staying longer in New Zealand,” Teagan asks as we climb into individual stalls.

  “She returns tomorrow,” I answer, knowing my excitement is obvious. I can’t wait to see her in person. Using our phones’ webcams doesn’t count.

  “I bet she is going to be so jetlagged,” Ava says sympathetically.

  I nod, already anticipating that. “It took her a couple days to recover when she got over there.”

  “And you’re sure everything is okay with that guy in prison?” Sasha questions.

  I wish I could say with complete accuracy that we are sure, but there is no way to be absolutely sure. What we are sure about is that no one else connected to the case has been injured. And, according to the investigators, the accident was caused by the couple and not the drunk driver. They appear to have been speeding and veered into the wrong lane. Also, there has been zero chatter on any social forums or on the phones we gained access to, suggesting any sort of retaliation has been ordered.

  It appears Sanchez is keeping to himself in prison. He’s had no visitors and has made no phone calls. That doesn’t mean he can’t get a message out by other means, either another prisoner or a corrupt guard if needs be. But we have found no evidence to point to that.

  Scarlett and her family spent two weeks on the other side of the world, so I have to believe that, if something was wrong, we would have found it by now.

  “Yeah, as sure as we can be,” I finally answer, turning the
water off and grabbing my towel.

  Once we are dressed and Teagan and Ava have already left, Sasha and I slowly make our way to our cars. We are just talking about a difficult client when Sasha suddenly stops short, hissing in pain.

  “You okay?” I ask, worried something is wrong. Sasha still has close to three months left, so anything happening now is not good.

  “Yeah, just appears this little one is already training to be a heavyweight boxing champion. I might have knocked Dec out all those years ago, but this one is trying to knock me out from inside me.”

  I wince at the imagery, unwittingly shifting my mind to that horror image from the movie Aliens. Best not to give Sasha that image.

  “At least they’ll be ready to defend themselves from Kiera,” I point out. Kiera is going through a punching stage. Is that even a stage? Maybe she’s just going through an asshole stage. Not that I would ever utter such a thing out loud.

  Sasha laughs, her bout of discomfort appearing to pass, since she straightens her back and her breathing eases. “I can’t wait for this to be over. I’m sick of being pregnant.”

  “The end is in sight,” I try to comfort her.

  “I don’t care, just as long as there is a large bottle of wine at the end of it.”

  “Deal,” I tell her, hugging her when we reach our cars.

  I wave her off then watch her drive away.

  Taking one last glance at my phone, I send a quick text to Scarlett, stating again how much I can’t wait to see her, even though she’s likely already on a plane. Then I laugh when I instantly get a reply.

  S: Near, far, wherever you are, I believe the fart does go on. Once more, you open the door, and you’re here in my heart, and my fart will go on and on.

  For weeks, I have been getting lyrics with the word fart injected in them. It should be lame, and most definitely a morbid kind of corny. But, for whatever reason, it brings a smile to my lips and makes me miss her even more.

  If only we realized what was around the corner. If only we had braced for the impact about to crash into us, ready to shatter our world.

  If only.

  Chapter 15

  A knock at my door after a long-ass work day makes me wonder if Larissa hasn’t decided to forgo our lunch plans for tomorrow and get a jumpstart on them now. She often changes her mind and does whatever she wants. Hence the reason she met Scarlett. If it was up to me, I would have kept them separate for a while. Not because I don’t like Larissa or think they won’t get along, but because I’m not the type of person to mix people in straight away. I generally keep things separate, which is why it took months before Sasha and Ava met my parents. Family and friends don’t seem like they need to mesh, until they just do.

  When I take a peek through my peephole, though, I see someone entirely unexpected.

  “Lettie?” I gasp, throwing my door open and almost ripping off the chain in my haste.

  “Surprise!” she yells, throwing her arms around me and enveloping me in a tight embrace.

  “What are you …? I thought you said … Weren’t you meant to get in tomorrow?” I splutter, not at all disappointed by the change of events.

  “Yes, and that’s why this is a surprise!” she tells me, stepping into me and walking us backward so we aren’t standing in the doorway. I assume the loud bang echoing around us is my door shutting, but I can’t take my eyes off her or my arms away from her to check.

  “Consider me surprised, then.”

  Scarlett laughs, her voice seemingly magical in person after only hearing her through speakers for two weeks.

  When she leans down, her intentions clear, I don’t hesitate to meet her halfway, our lips meshing together as we finally share a kiss.

  Soft lips, heated breaths, and spine-tingling strokes of our tongues make for one hell of a welcome home kiss. Her arms are steel around my ribs, but I’m desperate to touch her everywhere. My arms are free to roam, and my hands do just that, moving in opposite directions so I can cup her head and neck but also over the curve of her hip and lower back.

  Breaking apart, but not moving far, she coasts her lips over my jaw, my earlobe, and down my neck.

  “What …? What is happening?” I ask on a hitched breath.

  “If you don’t know, then it has definitely been too long,” she mutters, nipping at my shoulder after she pulls my sweater down to expose the skin.

  “Are you sure?” I squeak out.

  She shifts her leg between mine, and for one beautiful moment, there is delicious friction between my legs, before she gently shoves me backward until I hit my hallway wall.

  “As far as I’m concerned, we’ve just had weeks of foreplay. I am so beyond sure.”

  Her mouth comes for mine again, and this time, I just enjoy the press of her body against mine, the way every part of her touches me as she consumes me with her hot mouth.

  Passion was never an issue with us, and I know now that it has been reawakened, it will be hard to ignore again.

  With her mouth still on mine, her hips pressed against me, she leans her upper body away, snakes her hands between us, and pulls at my loose sweater. Lifting it up as high as it can go, we separate so I can help fling it over my head and to the floor.

  A moment later, she is lifting my sports bra underneath, and I shiver as the cool air touches my waist then my breasts as they are exposed. She doesn’t let it fall down my arms. Instead, she wraps it gently around them, tying my wrists together. The hold is loose, and I already feel it falling apart, but I grab ahold of it.

  “Keep your arms up. I have an idea,” she says, a dark, sensual promise in her voice.

  Scarlett is the most sexually adventurous person I have been with. Public or private, noisy or quiet, with toys or just our bodies, she has zero limits. She loves sex and loves getting off. I’m just the lucky partner who gets to reap all the rewards.

  She moves her fingers to my sweats, yanking them and my panties down with ease.

  I’m breathing heavily, not just from the heart-stopping kiss, but because I’m so turned on I can’t help panting.

  “So beautiful, Cyn. So fucking beautiful,” she tells me softly, her eyes greedily gazing over me before her eyes catch mine. “Don’t forget, arms up.” Her serious tone turns me on even more.

  When she steps closer to me, I have no idea what to expect. Her jeans brush my thighs, and her soft coat touches my breasts with every heave of my chest. But instead of the hard and fast exploration I expect, she gently cups my jaw with both hands and holds me in place for a tender kiss.

  My shoulders drop as the tension shifts from desperate to leisurely, and my arms shift down on their own, wrapping around her neck and keeping her close.

  I love every part of Scarlett, but her mouth is my favorite. Mesmerizing, tempting, and always distracting, I could stare at her mouth for hours. Having her mouth on me? Yeah, sign me up for that for days. Weeks, even.

  “Naughty, I told you to leave them up,” she admonishes me, not that she sounds disappointed. More like excited.

  I watch her eyes light up as she lifts my arms back over my head, pushing my chest out as my exposed breasts brush against her coat again, my nipples scraping the material.

  I shudder against it, but then all thoughts leave my mind when she lets go of my arms and caresses one breast. Moaning, I shift my hips against her when she leans down to kiss, suck, and lick my other breast.

  Yes, this is what I have needed. This is what I have been craving!

  I’m so overwhelmed by the pleasure she’s building inside me that I barely notice her free hand shifting along my side, moving down my ribs, down my abdominal, and moving through my trimmed pubic hair until I feel a finger slip through my folds.

  “Shit!” I gasp, automatically parting my legs for her, shifting so she has more room.

  “Have you missed this, Cyn?” she asks in her husky voice around my breast, her breath sending tingles all over me.

  “Fuck yes!” I gasp, my hips jol
ting in hopes of getting her to do more.

  “Good, because I know I have,” she admits, inserting a finger into my channel in a slow, torturous way.

  It isn’t enough. I need more.

  I ride her finger, but from the way she has me pressed against the wall, I can’t get enough friction to do more.

  “More, more,” I beg, whimpering when she introduces another finger, yet her speed doesn’t change.

  “Like this?” she asks, adding just a moment of pressure against my clit with her palm before it disappears.

  I cry out in frustration.

  “You feel tight. Have you been using the toy I gave you?” she questions, inserting a third finger. The fullness is almost too much.

  I shake my head, sweat building over my body as I begin to overheat. I might need more pressure, more speed, more of everything, but that doesn’t mean my body isn’t already barreling toward reaching a peak that feels just out of reach.

  “Why not? I liked using it on you,” she tells me, shifting her palm over my clit again, moving it in a circular motion that has me racing closer to orgasm … before she removes the pressure yet keeps moving her fingers slowly inside me.

  “Not the same,” I pant out, sounding and feeling like I have a fever. “Please, I need to come,” I beg, something Scarlett likes—me undone, begging and needing her.

  “Then I’ll reintroduce you to it again later on,” she responds.

  I have never cared much for vibrators or other sex toys, but I have to admit that doing that stuff with Scarlett has never been a turn off. She has a way of making anything feel good.

  “Please,” I cry.

  Thankfully, she takes pity on me, sucking my nipple back in, teasing my other breast with her fingers, alternating pinching and massaging. She also picks up speed with her fingers and shifts her palm against me.

  I rock my hips up and down, my arms falling limply against Scarlett’s shoulders as I lose myself to the feeling, to the fire racing through my veins and the tingles breaking apart throughout my body.

  I’m so close, and when I finally fall into my orgasm, tears spill down my face as I scream out, the power of it enough to not only leave me breathless but to also make my legs fall out from under me. I slide down the wall, unable to keep myself up.

 

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