by Kyle Autumn
I touch her arm and dip my head, keeping her gaze on mine. “Breathing would be a good start to getting through that.”
“Yeah, I know,” she concedes. “It’s just…well…hard right now, I guess, when you’re, well…” She peeks around my shoulder, looking into the garage. Then she glances at the driveway and the front door before I tell her what I hope she wants to hear.
“Dani’s not home if that—” But that’s all I get out.
Because she’s stomping past me, into my garage, right through the door to the house.
Can’t say I mind that, either. So I spin around and follow her in.
When I get inside, I find her gazing around the place. I try to see my house with her eyes, from a fresh perspective, but I don’t know what she’s seeing. I do know that this place doesn’t have a lot of my touches, mostly because I don’t have the first clue how to decorate anything. And I haven’t really cared that much. In my mind, this place is still my grandpa’s. Now, though, I’m wishing I knew how. I want her to see that piece of me, even if it doesn’t exist yet.
She heads straight for the kitchen, her purse clutched to her body. At the oven, she runs a finger over the stove. Then she strolls over to the sink and taps the faucet. “Nice kitchen.”
“I’m glad the baker thinks so.” I lean against the entryway while she checks it out. “Feel free to make anything you’d like in here.”
She nods, turning the faucet on and then off.
“Look, I don’t think that’s what you came in here for,” I tell her as she swings over to the fridge. “And I need to take a shower.” I gesture a hand down my sweaty, bare chest, which she’s already looking at, just as a reminder. Perhaps so she’ll take the hint of where this can go if she wants it to. Where I wouldn’t mind it going. “So…”
But she didn’t need it. She sets her purse on the counter and says, “So show me the bathroom next?”
I don’t need her to ask me twice. But the hard-on happening in my uniform pants? Yeah, that might come in handy.
I wave a hand to have her follow me up the stairs. Every fiber in my body wants me to run, but I don’t. It’s one step at a time, one foot in front of the other—even though I can feel her desire to push ahead of me and hurry this thing up. Nope. I’m taking my time.
After last time, I have no idea if I’ll ever get this chance again, so I’m going to savor it. Stretch it out. Make it last.
Meli doesn’t seem to be on board with that plan though. When I gesture for her to go in first, she does, but she stays by the door to slam it shut once I’m inside. Then she starts the shower for me and goes straight for my pants.
I have every intention of stopping her. Of telling her we should talk about this, where she sees this going, and if this means she’s ready for more now. But, at the same time, I’ll take what I can get from her. She’s been unpredictable from the moment we met, and if she wants to have sex with me, well… I’m not about to say no to that, seeing as this is the only action I’ve seen in the last five years. And she’s fucking amazing.
With my pants and my boxers on the floor, I reach for her face and kiss her. My hands go around her cheeks and the back of her head to pull her in, and she opens her mouth to me. As our tongues slide against each other, I grab her hips and lift her onto the sink. Steam starts to billow from the shower, but we’ll get to that in a minute.
I slip my hands over her thighs and into her skirt. Then I hook my fingers into the sides of her panties, which I’m surprised to find, and pull them down to her ankles. They fall off the ends of her toes as I unbutton her shirt. She digs her heels into my back, pressing her pussy against my dick while I unhook her bra. When that’s gone, I palm her breasts and kiss down her neck, leaving a wet trail in my wake.
She hisses a breath out when I reach one of her nipples, her head knocking against the mirror behind her. I don’t want her to hit her head again, so I reach for her skirt and she helps me wiggle her out of it. Then her legs go back around my waist, and I scoop her up and walk us both to the shower.
The water sears my skin, but I can’t be bothered with worrying about things like temperature when Meli is wet and naked in my shower. The only thing I’m focused on is making this happen. Meli seems just as focused though, and she grinds her hips against mine, searching for friction against her most sensitive spot.
I won’t deny her that, so my fingers go straight there.
She’s slick, wet, and ready for me, but we have a major problem standing in our way: no condom. That doesn’t mean I won’t give her what she’s looking for though. Instead, I press her right up against the shower wall, one hand close to her head and the other between her folds. I slide down to her opening and line a finger up. Then I rest my forehead on hers and slip that finger inside.
She melts with the relief of the tension building up between us, sighing and moaning as I build up speed. When I find a pace I like, she kicks it up a notch, bucking against my hand. So I add another finger, knowing she can take the stretch of it. Then I set my thumb right on her clit, adding that sensation to the party. Once that doesn’t seem like enough, I add a third finger inside her. And she wildly meets each thrust with one of her own as she seeks her climax on my hand.
The whole picture of this nearly makes me come when she does.
On a sexy, sweet grunt, she finishes all over my fingers, throbbing and pulsing around me, which has me wishing it weren’t just my fingers inside her. The feel of it combined with the friction of my dick sliding against her skin with each thrust has me so close to the edge that I almost climax too, but I do my best to hold it back. This was about her, and I have no complaints.
“God, you’re beautiful when you come,” I tell her. “I could watch you all day.”
Her breaths come in hard pants as she smiles. “Now, it’s your turn.”
I shake my head though. “We don’t have a condom.”
“Who says we need one?” she throws back at me, a wicked smile on her lips.
I squint at her, content to let this go. But she wiggles out of my grip to get onto her knees, apparently intent to even the score.
“Oh, hey, you don’t have to—” I try to say, but I don’t get another word out before her lips wrap around my cock.
Holy fucking hell. It’s been five years since I’ve felt anything like this. Five long-ass years since any pair of lips has touched my dick. Five strenuous years of avoiding, keeping my head down, and getting shit done instead of having sex so I didn’t fuck my life up again. But this—Meli—blows any other experience right out of the water.
Automatically, my hand goes to her head while the other reaches for the wall to keep myself upright. My knees won’t be able to do it for me for much longer. They start to shake and wobble with the effort and the pleasure rocketing through me at speeds that I didn’t even know existed.
Her tongue swirls around my tip, and then she takes me to the back of her throat. Her hands grip my thighs for balance until one hand snakes up my abs. Using the hand that was on her head, I grasp her fingers, holding on for dear life. I squeeze until she flexes them inside my palm, and then I weave our fingers together, her grip matching mine.
And that’s what pushes me right to the edge: her hand in mine.
“I’m gonna… I’m so close, Mel…” I start to back away, but her one hand tightens its grasp on my thigh and she pulls me closer.
As her fingernails dig into my skin, I start to tumble over the climax cliff. Her hand goes to my ass and presses, which thrusts my dick even farther inside her warm, wet mouth. That does me in. The second I bump against the back of her throat, I spill everything I have to give in spurts and pulses, groaning with the effort. My hand on the wall flexes inward to keep me upright, and I use the other to squeeze her hand as hard as I squeeze my eyes closed.
But then I force them open to imprint this memory in my head. I never know what I’ll get with her, and if this is it, I want to remember it forever. So I take a snapshot
for posterity.
Her wet ponytail dripping down her back.
Her large, brown eyes gazing up at me through damp, water-soaked lashes.
Her perfect, pink pout wrapped around my cock until she pops me from her mouth and licks the tip clean.
Her lush, soft breasts heavy with their own weight, speckled with water droplets dripping from my hair.
My dick bobs between us as she rises, her one hand smoothing over my skin on her way up. When she reaches her full height, her free arm goes around my neck, but our conjoined hands never part. Not as I reach behind my back to turn the water off. Or when I open the curtain so we can get out of the stall. Or even when I grab one big towel to wrap us up and dry us off with.
And definitely not when we fall into my bed, close our eyes, and drift off to sleep.
∞∞∞
Amelia
It’s dark when I wake up, but that’s nothing I’m not used to. Having to get to the bakery so early to bake means I’m always up before the sun. But there is something I’m not used to right now, and that’s a hand in mine. The arm around my back. The big, comfy body against my front. The warm breath on my skin.
And how much I’ve missed all of these things. That’s new too.
They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. And that’s very true. But you also don’t know what you’re missing until it’s back in your life. Which I’m finding to also be very true. Painfully true.
Being with Jeremy reminds me of all the things I miss about being with Danny. All the good stuff like finding those releases together, holding hands, being intimate. I’m sure I’d find more things I miss the longer we spend time together. I’m still not sure if that’s the best idea, but I told my sister that I’d give it a shot. So, as soon as he wakes up too, I guess I’ll tell him. Because that’s the whole reason why I came to his house in the first place, but we kind of got sidetracked.
Okay, very sidetracked, seeing as it’s hours and one amazing shower-sex session later.
When his alarm sounds, I jolt in his arms. It’s the dead of the night and only crazy people like me have to get up at a time like this, though it’s still too early for me, I’m sure. But he doesn’t unhook our hands, which miraculously haven’t fallen asleep by now. Instead, he scoots onto his stomach and reaches for it with his other hand, as unwilling as I am to break our spell.
“What time does that mean it is?” I whisper in the dark.
“Two,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep.
Good lord. “Why on Earth do you need to be up that early?”
He chuckles softly as he rolls back toward me, his arm going back around my middle. “I have to be at work at three to start sorting packages.”
“Ah,” I say quietly. “So that’s what you do for NatEx. I’ve seen that on your uniform.”
“So you’ve been checking me out?” he asks, pressing me closer to him, our naked bodies flush with each other.
I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
He just laughs.
But then I go serious for a moment. “Does that alarm wake Danielle? I really shouldn’t be—”
To stop me from rambling, he kisses my mouth. “She’s always asleep when I leave,” he mumbles around my lips. “You have nothing to worry about.”
He says that, but I don’t think either of us really believes it. If she catches us, she’ll be upset, which is probably putting it mildly. Or maybe I’ll be the one who’ll feel like I’ve disappointed her. On one level, it doesn’t feel right to sleep with the brother of my employee. But, on another, being with Jeremy feels anything but wrong. In any case, we’re not serious enough for her to know, and I want to keep it that way.
“Okay, then maybe I should go.” I start to wiggle my way out of his embrace. “You have to get ready for work and I don’t want to—”
He tightens his arm around me. “Meli, do you actually want to go?” With more pressure, he squeezes my fingers of the hand he’s still holding.
I know he’s not expecting me to say yes, and he’s right. If we could, I’d stay here all day. But we have lives. People expect us to be at certain places at certain times, and people expect us to do certain things. I’m sure Danielle was expecting me to simply be her boss, but well. Here we are.
However, right now… I don’t care. I tell him the truth. Because, for some reason, this decision is easy to make.
So, against the pillow, I shake my head. “No.”
“Then stay awhile,” he says against my lips, so quietly, just for me.
“But don’t you have to get ready for work?” I protest—it’s in my nature.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, snuggling closer to me. “But I like this better.”
His words wash over me because they ring so true. I absolutely love baking and feeding people, but at the same time, I’d choose staying warm and safe and comfy in this bed with him over that in a heartbeat. And that should scare the ever-loving shit out of me. Because I won’t let that happen. Choosing a moment in time doesn’t make anything permanent, and that’s fine. More than fine. So I snuggle deeper too, getting as close to him as possible.
“Hey,” I whisper, my lips brushing his as I speak. “Can I tell you why I actually came over yesterday? Besides to tell you that you really don’t have to mow my lawn?”
He starts to caress my back with his fingertips. “You can, and I’d love to hear it. Why did you actually come over?”
“Well,” I start, nerves in my belly growing wings. Before I chicken out, I finish with, “I think we should go on a date.” Then I exhale an embarrassed breath and stuff my face between his neck and his pillow to hide. Who says it like that?
He brings his hand up and smooths my hair down my back. His light laughter fans his warm breath against my ear as he squeezes me to him. “I’d like that.” Then he pulls back a little. “You know I was trying to ask you to dinner, like, a week ago, right?”
His words jog my memory. I think I recall that moment, but I was, like usual, running the hell away from him. When I don’t do that, like right now, I get exactly what I want. So I need to remember that for the future.
“And I thought you had a fiancée, so I was avoiding that,” I say around a laugh against his chest.
“And I was worried that the new guy at the bakery was your boyfriend.”
I tip my chin up to look at him even though it’s pitch-black in the room. “But he’s not.”
“And I’m not engaged,” he reminds me, punctuating it with a kiss on my nose.
“So we’re going on a date?”
“We sure are.” He squeezes my hand one last time before straightening his fingers out and sliding his hand down mine—but not away yet. “But we both do have to go to work first.”
I jerk my head back. “Oh, you want to go out today?”
He clasps his fingers around my hand, still not letting to. “We can do whatever you want,” he says before peppering kisses up my neck.
I start to giggle before clapping my hand over my mouth. “Stop!” I whisper-shout at him. “Danielle might hear us.”
He pulls his head back and asks, “Why do you call her that? Everyone else calls her Dani except our parents.”
I gulp, not yet ready to answer that question. So I redirect and ask one of my own. “And where did your parents go? I met them when I brought the muffins over, but I haven’t seen them since.”
“They live a few hours away,” he says as he unwinds his arm from around me. Then he brings our clasped hands to his mouth and kisses mine. “They were just here to help pack my grandpa’s stuff up. This was his house.” With that, he gets out of bed, our hands touching until the last possible second.
His footsteps sound lightly across the room. Seconds later, the light in the bathroom turns on. I’m on his bed, snuggling in the sheets that smell like him, wondering if he didn’t want to talk about that. Or maybe he didn’t like that I didn’t answer his question. But it could also be that h
e’s giving me some space, thinking we have time. I can’t decide which one it is—shocker, I know.
I want to ask, but really, it’s not that important. The important thing is that I made the decision to make a move and I did it. We’re going to go out. I’m not sure when, but he lives next door and knows where I work. Plus, he comes back from the bathroom a minute later, leaving the light on but the door mostly closed.
“I’m gonna take a shower and get ready for work,” he says, crawling back on top of me. He’s still naked, as am I, and our bodies press together seemingly on their own accord. “Will you be here when I’m done?” He links his fingers with mine, pinning my hands to the bed, as he works his way up from my chest to my neck and then back down.
“Mmm,” I hum out as he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. “Actually”—I raise my hips to press my core against his erection—“I have a better idea.”
He pops off my breast, the light from the bathroom highlighting the naughty gleam in his eye. “I think I like this idea.”
“But we have to be quick. And quiet,” I tell him as he rises and grabs a box of condoms from his nightstand.
He practically rips the box open before snatching one out of it. As he rolls it on his length, he says, “I can manage that. Can you?”
I don’t get to answer before he places a hand over my mouth. Then his other hand lands between my legs only to find how ready I am for him already. So he lines himself up, drives in, and quickly finds a rhythm that gets us both there in record time. All too soon, we’re both panting, me behind his hand and him in the crook of my neck. We’re throbbing and pulsing, falling further toward the point of no return. At least, I am. And, well, he’s the one who pursued me.
In the end, he removes his hand and replaces it with his mouth. “What time should I pick you up?”
“Tonight?” I whisper against his lips.
“It’d be this morning if we didn’t have business to attend to,” he chuckles, “so yeah. Tonight.” Then he says, “Plus, I have Fridays off, so we can stay up as late as you want.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows.