Flirty Thirty (Nerdy Thirties Book 1)

by Cassie Mae

  “You did,” I tease before closing the gap between our lips again. “But I love you.”

  He tickles just under my arm, enough for me to jerk and slip in the tub. But his arms stay strong around my waist, holding me steady as his tongue glides across mine. Happy and excited whimpers somersault in my throat, and I know Landon loves when I make those noises so I exaggerate them a bit for his benefit.

  His scruff grazes the hollow by my shoulder as he grips my right breast and slides down my body. More of those noises run wild over my lips, now one hundred percent legitimate, echoing around the shower walls. Landon’s hands are all over me, slipping over the cooling water cascading over our bodies. His mouth keeps going down, down, down with aggressive kisses and nibbles, and my knees shake so bad I’m not sure how I’m standing.

  Hell. Yes. Spontaneous nookie! I let my mind forget that it’s a given since we just got engaged. I’m going to ride the hell out of him in the shower just like we used to. And after we slip, we’ll keep on going in the bedroom.

  I grip the top of his head and yank him up, wanting to kiss his mouth, his cheeks, his eyelids, his chin, his neck, his shoulders . . . but I grab too hard, and he yelps an “Ouch!”

  “Oops,” I say, kissing my fingertips and pressing them to his hair.

  He rubs his head, water trickling down his upturned lips. “Didn’t know you wanted it rough.” His hand tangles in the wet strands sticking to my upper back, and he tugs enough to expose my neck. His lips tease and tickle just under my jaw, and I feel him smile right before his teeth dig in, and he sucks . . . hard.

  “Stop!” I laugh, smacking his shoulders, propelling water in my eyes. “No hickey, no hickey! I have work tomorrow. Landon, I mean it!”

  He suctions to me as I giggle and squirm underneath his strong hands. I manage to slide my hand down, lock tight around his arousal, and squeeze.

  “Drop it,” I threaten, slightly tugging. Landon laughs against my neck.

  “You know that’ll only encourage me,” he says, thrusting into my hand. I quickly let go and spin around, pretending to get away, but I’m secretly raving about his arms catching me before I get too far.

  “Oh, back entry!” he shouts when my butt smashes against him. I shush him in case the neighbors we share a wall with are in their bathroom. His voice lowers. “It’s about time you let me do this. And to think, all I needed to do was propose.”

  He playfully jabs my left ass cheek, and I smack at his hands on my hips.

  “You come near that hole, and I will flex my ass muscles so hard Little Landon will need six weeks to recover.”

  I shoot a wicked grin over my shoulder, and he gasps at me.

  “Little?” He thrusts against my butt cheek again. “You should call him Lord Landon.”

  “Because he rules your brain?”

  “He rules the Land of Liz.” Landon spins me around before I can even roll my eyes at him, but it’s so slick in the tub we almost topple to the floor. I grip onto his shoulders while he holds the walls, and after we catch our breaths from the avoided catastrophe, Landon reaches around me to turn the water off.

  “Bedroom?” I offer, and Lady Nethers jumps for joy when he nods, taking my hand and helping me out of the tub. As soon as both our feet hit the solid bath mat, he pulls me onto his waist, not bothering with a towel.

  “I just washed the sheets!” I shout as he throws my wet, naked body on the bed. He gives me a wide smile before sliding on top of me, and he’s so slick he slips right inside. My eyes pop open from the unexpected entry.

  “Oops,” he says this time, but I don’t think he’s really that sorry about it. I start laughing and tighten my legs around his waist. Never mind about the sheets. We’re not having peas and carrots sex right now. We’re having engagement sex. And I like seeing all the water drip from the tips of his dark hair, onto my cheeks and nose and past my lips to my tongue. His playful gray eyes gradually dilate as he moves.

  Laughter turns to deep sighs as Landon wipes my face free of all the water. He presses a soft kiss between my eyebrows.

  “You’re going to be my wife,” he whispers, like a prayer, a wish, a dream he never thought would come to life. My heart thumps between our bodies, thumps against his, answering his beats with mine.

  “Mrs. Wangford.” I bite my smile back, but it’s no use, Landon pauses above me, his whole face lighting up.

  “Hell yeah! Now you can’t make fun of it.”

  “I’ll say it in a seductive voice when I get my driver’s license.” I drop my voice an octave. “Wangford.”

  “That’s so sexy,” he teases, biting my earlobe. I involuntarily giggle, goose bumps shooting up and down my entire body. That’s totally my spot, and he knows it, so he runs his hands across my puckered skin while he nibbles.

  “Okay . . . you have to stop laughing,” he says.

  “Can’t be helped.” I kiss his shoulder when he bumps it against my lips. “I really like it.”

  “I know.” He bites again, causing more laughter and goose bumps. “But when you laugh, it does things. Down there.”

  “I know it doesn’t hurt,” I say, then flex my Kegel muscles. He groans.

  “No, it’s just . . . we haven’t done this in eleven days.”

  “You’re counting?” When was the last time we counted?

  He ignores me, resting an elbow on the pillow, and using the heel of his hand to hold his head up. “On most occasions I purposely make you laugh because of how it feels.” His lip twitches upward. “It’s like a hug.”

  I stifle a snort, and he growls to the ceiling.

  “Stop laughing!”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “You keep laughing, and I’m gonna shoot off before I can do my move.”

  “I’ve felt your move,” I tease. “You need a new one.”

  His jaw drops, and his stroking fingers turn to tickle monsters up and down, down and up my ribs, until he grips my sides and pulls me on his lap. My knees sink into the duvet next to his hips, and I run my nails through his damp hair. The stars in his gray irises seem to light the entire bedroom, echoing the moon dancing across the bed sheets.

  I can’t believe I get a whole lifetime of this.

  “Me neither,” he says, and a much smaller laugh tumbles out of my mouth. I had no idea my thoughts escaped me.

  Landon’s lips meet mine softly, then harder, then all over. My laughter, my mind, and body drift away into just one of the many beautiful moments I get to experience with this man. He feels so good, and the last time we had sex like this feels like a lifetime ago.

  I’m just getting into my rhythm when I halt mid-hump with a gasp.

  “What, what, what?” Landon says underneath me, sweat and shower water covering his skin.

  “We need a condom.”

  He looks at me like I just spouted Greek. “Huh?”

  “A condom, Landon. I stopped taking my pill a week ago.”

  “Why’d you do that?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt the baby . . . if there was one.”

  “Oh.” He closes his eyes and nods. “Okay. Condom. Do we even have one?”

  “Maybe . . . ?” I’m being optimistic. I think I tossed them out during my last sex drawer clean up.

  He slowly lifts me off him, and we both groan when we leave each other. I roll off the mattress, probably not looking so sexy with my naked squat and crawl to the naughty drawer in my nightstand.

  “I could just pull out,” Landon suggests as I dig around the lubricant, the sex tarot cards we’ve used maybe once, and the blindfolds we use much more than that, but not lately. There’s not a single condom or any other form of birth control in here—unless you count the picture of my parents that must’ve slipped through the cracks from the drawer above it.

  “I don’t know. I think I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  “But . . . we don’t have a condom.”

  “Maybe Theresa does.” Actually, I’m almost positive she
does. I put the picture of my parents back in the right drawer and get to my feet. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Your nipple is poking out,” he says, pointing at my left boob as I shrug into my fuzzy purple robe.

  “Thanks. Keep it up, will ya?” I point back at “Lord Landon” and speed walk out of the room, out my front door, down the hall, and rap on Theresa’s door.

  And just my luck, she doesn’t answer. I slump back, lady parts laden with disappointment.

  “No?” Landon asks, still hard and ready on the bed.

  “She’s not home.”

  “I’ll pull out,” he says, grabbing the tie on my robe and ripping it open.

  “Let me get a towel.” I push him off before we get so into it I won’t care until we have to clean it. Then I’ll really care.

  After placing the towel on the bed, Landon kisses me, probably knowing I’ve dried up and I’m losing whatever mojo I had ten minutes ago.

  But we just got engaged, so no way in hell am I not having sex tonight.

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