My Kinda Night (Summer Sisters Book 2)

by Lacey Black

  “I don’t know, Lex,” I reply softly. It’s the honest to God’s truth.

  “I miss the practicing. We used to practice a lot. Now he gets home from work after I’ve gone to bed. I try to snuggle up against him, but he’s virtually asleep the moment his head hits the pillow. And when we do have sex, he’s not as thorough as he used to be. I mean, we both still get off, but, I don’t know. It’s just missing something.”

  “I’m sorry, Lex. I wish I knew what to say. It’s not like I have a lot of experience in life lessons on love.”

  “Speaking of, let’s not talk about my crappy sex life. Let’s talk about yours. Apparently, you have one and didn’t share.”

  I sigh loudly. Dammit, Grandma.

  “Oh, don’t act so surprised. You should have known she would call us before the cheese started to cool on her pizza. This is the woman who knew perfectly well where Jaime was that first night with Ryan and still called all of us, claiming she was kidnapped.”

  “God, why did I have to run into her tonight? It’s…it’s not really what you think.”

  “So you’re not sleeping with some gorgeous nerdy man with eyes that make women everywhere quiver between the legs?”

  “What? Gross.”

  “Her words, not mine. Let’s come back to the fact that your boyfriend makes your grandma’s lady parts quiver, okay? Let’s go back to the beginning and focus on boyfriend.”

  “I’m going to need therapy,” I grumble, taking another healthy gulp of wine, effectively draining the glass. I could use another refill, but I know the longer I draw out this conversation, the more liquored we’ll both become, subsequently, the more dirty details I’m liable to give. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Start at the beginning.”

  Sighing, I do as instructed. “Last summer, the accountant I used retired and turned over my business, along with his other clientele, to a new man. Dean McIntire.”

  “You’re screwing your accountant?” Lexi interrupts, practically shouting it across the room.

  “Stop yelling. I don’t need the senior citizens in the next county to hear, okay? Anyway, when I met him for the first time, he was…wow. He was gorgeous. Every time I had to take my monthly profits and losses statement, and all of my employment and income tax documents to him, he was always there, waiting. I tried to just drop them off with their secretary, but she always said he wanted to see me.”

  “I bet he did,” she quips quietly.

  “One night last fall, I was his last appointment. One thing led to another, and then next thing I knew, we were going at it on top of his desk.”

  Lexi’s eyes are as round as saucers. “Nice.”

  “He went home with me that night, but was gone before the sun came up. We both determined it was a one-time thing, but then it just kept happening. It didn’t matter if it was his office or if he stopped by the flower shop, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, even though we both decided it was wrong.”

  “I don’t get it. What’s wrong about it? I mean, you were having great sex, right?”

  “Yeah, it was amazing, but he is my accountant. I am his client. There is a professional line that has been crossed, and in a big way.”

  “Pshhhh. Professional shmessional. It’s not against the law, is it? No. I say there’s nothing holding you back.”

  “Wait, there’s more. When I went to my trade show last week, they lost my reservation. I tried several different hotels in the area and no one had availability because there were multiple conferences in the same vicinity. I was at the last one before I said forget it and headed home, and Dean was there.”

  “Where? At the hotel?”

  “Yep. I was standing there being told that they had nothing available when he walked up to me and offered me half of his room.”

  “Shit.”

  “It was my only option if I wanted to stay in Richmond, so I took him up on it.”

  “And fell right into his bed.” My sister giggles with the assumption.

  “Well, not the first night. He slept on the pullout couch, so we didn’t sleep together that first night, but the second…” I let my words trail off. There’s no need to finish the statement. She knows.

  “Nice,” she says, drawing out that word as she lifts her wine glass in the air to salute. “And it was…” she eggs on.

  “It was…better than nice.”

  “I bet it was, if that smile on your lips is any indication.” I’m smiling? I didn’t even realize.

  “Anyway, we spent two nights together and, yes, they were amazing. We’re talking toe-curling, can’t remember my own name, best sex ever kinda nights.”

  “Damn,” Lexi groans, fanning her face with her hand.

  “When we got home last week, he kinda convinced me to give this whole dating thing a try. As you can imagine, it wasn’t an easy pitch for him, nor easy for me to accept.”

  Lexi rolls her eyes. “No shit. So, you’re dating this guy?”

  “Yeah,” I whisper so quietly that even I barely hear the answer. Clearing my throat, I turn to look at my sister’s matching green eyes. “He has a daughter.” Sweat starts to break out under my arms.

  “Wow, okay. He’s probably, what, in his early to mid-thirties? Most adults that age have kids by now. Was he married before?”

  “No, she was his client, which is one of the reasons we’ve avoided getting intimate since we met. They dated for a short period of time, got pregnant, and left shortly after their daughter, Brielle, was born.”

  “What a pretty name,” Lexi says softly, sadness filling her expressive eyes once more.

  “She’s a gorgeous little girl. When I stopped by his office today after work, she dropped by with his mom. There was an emergency with her sister so she dropped off Dean’s daughter on her way out of town. We ended up going for pizza, and I’m pretty sure I fell in love with that little girl tonight,” I say, lifting my glass, only to realize I’ve already drained it.

  “And that’s a problem?”

  “Well, it’s not expected. I’ve been working at keeping feelings out of this relationship, but then I met his daughter. She pretty much stole my heart with her big brown eyes, and that was before she put her hand inside of mine. What do I do now?” I beg. This is not what I wanted at all, but I don’t think I can backtrack at this point, either.

  “What do you mean? You don’t have to do anything. You date Dean. You hang out and spend time with Brielle. You enjoy their time and company. If things progress between you and the hot accountant, then you’ll deal with it then. Otherwise, why get yourself all worked up on something that may or may not happen?”

  “When did you get so wise?” I ask, smiling across the room at Lexi.

  “I have an amazing older sister. She taught me so much about life, and shared her wisdom and knowledge with us mere young’uns. Her name’s Jaime,” she coos, deadpanned.

  Without thinking, I toss a throw pillow and hit her straight in the face. We both bust up laughing, and together, finish off the rest of the wine. Before I know it, the clock is approaching midnight, and our yawns are nonstop. Lexi stands and walks towards the front door, grabbing her jacket and purse from the table on her way. I meet her at the door and wait for her to get ready to go.

  Throwing my arms around her neck, I say, “Thank you for coming over tonight and spending time with me. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, big sister. I’m very happy that you’re having all the great sex with the hot accountant.”

  “He’s going to be there Saturday night, so you can’t call him the hot accountant.”

  “I can call him whatever I want,” she smirks and steps outside. Before she gets to the bottom of the steps, she turns back towards me. “So the ass prints on your steel table were yours, right?”

  Dammit, Grandma!

  Chapter Twenty

  Dean

  I’ll admit: I’m the poor sucker who sat beside his phone and waited for it to ring. />
  After putting Bri to bed and reading a quick bedtime story, I opened a beer and tried to relax. Of course, relaxing came after I started a load of laundry, emptied the dishwasher, picked up what was left of Mom’s dinner that she started and left on the stove when she had to run out. Then I sent a quick text to Payton to thank her again for accompanying us to dinner.

  And then I didn’t hear anything.

  My mind went everywhere. She’s painting her toenails. She’s in danger. She fell asleep watching HGTV. Her phone’s dead. Her sister’s cat got loose and the entire family is looking for it. She changed her mind and doesn’t know how to tell me.

  God, what a lovestruck sap I turned out to be.

  And that’s the truth. I’m falling for her. I can feel it.

  I’ve been staring at the same channel for the last forty-five minutes but have no clue what’s actually on the TV. The beer is keeping me company, but it isn’t strong enough to numb my mind. If she’s looking to end this before it really begins, then I’ll let her go. I wasn’t looking for a relationship when I met her anyway, so no harm no foul.

  Except even I know that’s utter bullshit.

  There’s something about her that demands my complete attention. I couldn’t let her go even if I wanted to. She owns a piece of my soul without even really realizing it. I’ve known her for about eight months, and in that time, I’ve grown to care a great deal for her. She’s feisty, energetic, and passionate. Her curves and those damn green eyes have me firmly by the balls, and I know I’d do just about anything she asked of me.

  Taking another swig of my beer, I glance back down at my phone. As if knowing that I need to hear her voice, it lights up with her name displayed on the screen.

  “Hello?” I ask, setting the beer bottle down on the coffee table.

  “It’s late.”

  “It’s very late. Why are you still up?”

  “Lexi stopped by tonight and we drank booze and laughed. Next thing I knew it was midnight, and I realized I didn’t get to say goodnight.”

  “I’m glad you called,” I tell her honestly.

  “Sorry it’s so late, but I wanted you to know I got your message.”

  We’re both quiet for several moments, though the silence isn’t uncomfortable. I can picture her lying on her bed, wearing nothing but the shirt I left at her place. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

  “Yeah.”

  Getting up, I head into my bedroom and close the door, making sure to lock it behind me. “Thinking of you wearing it right now makes me want to do crazy things to you.”

  “What kinda crazy things?”

  “Dirty, filthy things. Things that I shouldn’t even say out loud.” My cock thickens to the point of pain in my sweatpants. It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to grab a hold of it.

  “Maybe you should show me then, since you can’t say it.”

  “I would like nothing more than to show you, sweetheart, and if I were there, that’s exactly what I’d do. Do you think you can follow my directions? Then it would be like I’m there with you, touching your gorgeous body.” I’ve never done anything like this before, but my blood is pumping to one concentrated area, and the thought of knowing she’s about to touch herself on the other end of the phone makes my body flush.

  “Tell me.”

  “Is my shirt buttoned up?”

  “Yes.” Her words are already raspy. I can feel the desire coursing through the phone.

  “Slowly unbutton it. Start at the top and work your way down to the bottom.” My words sound stern, demanding, even to my own ears. A smile spreads widely across my lips as I sit back, close my eyes, and picture her fingers toying with the small buttons.

  “Okay. It’s unbuttoned.”

  “Spread it open, but don’t take it off. I want my shirt to be able to touch your skin, even though I can’t. Have you ever had phone sex, Payton?”

  “N…no.” I can feel her excitement and nerves through the phone.

  “Me either. Are your nipples hard for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put the phone on speaker, then touch them. I want you to close your eyes and pretend it’s my hands caressing your breasts. I want you to picture my fingers pinching them gently. Imagine that my mouth is on them, licking and sucking on each one. Can you feel it?”

  Her response is a long groan.

  “Good girl. Now keep one hand on your breast but slide the other down your stomach to your panties.”

  “I’m not wearing any,” she whispers, breathing heavily enough that I can hear it through the receiver and it goes straight to my rock-hard erection. I start to throb in a way I only experience with this woman, and the only way I can think to alleviate the ache is to grab my cock and give it a gentle squeeze.

  Now it’s my turn to groan. I grab my t-shirt and rip it off my head as quickly as possible.

  “Touch yourself, Payton. Are you wet for me?”

  “I already know the answer to that question without touching myself, but yes. God yes, I’m wet for you. So wet.”

  “Slide your fingers through the wetness. I want you to touch your pussy for me. Imagine it’s my fingers,” I instruct, my grip on my dick tightens, my hand starts to move on its own.

  “Dean.” My name is a moan and the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

  “I’m right here, Payton. I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers.”

  “I am. It feels so good.”

  “Go slow, sweetheart. I want to savor this moment. If I were there, I’d draw out the pleasure as long as possible.”

  “I need to come,” she pleads.

  “You will. I promise. Spread your legs wide for me. I want you to rub your clit with your opposite hand while you slowly fuck yourself with your fingers.”

  “Dean…”

  “Do you know what I’m doing, Payton? I’m stroking my cock while you finger yourself. I’m so fucking hard and ready to explode just listening to you take your pleasure.”

  “I’m getting so close,” she pants between noises.

  There’s no slowing either of us down now. I’m racing full-speed ahead towards an epic orgasm, and listening to Payton get off is only making the entire experience that much more magnificent.

  “Touch your clit. Pretend it’s my tongue.”

  That does it. She erupts, crying out my name over and over again. It’s music to my ears as I stroke myself off at the same time. Warmth shoots across my stomach and I damn near drop the phone as my body convulses and shakes in the aftermath.

  “You still there?” I ask, panting and trying to regain my composure.

  “Wow.”

  Chuckling, I reach for my shirt and swipe it across my stomach. “I made a mess,” I say absently.

  “Me too. I need another shower.”

  “Damn, I wish I were there to help.”

  “Me too,” she whispers, yawning as she grabs the phone and brings it to her ear, turning the speaker off.

  “Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you Saturday night.”

  “Pottery. The Beaver.”

  Again, I chuckle. “You’re lucky I know what you meant by that or I’d think you were ready for round two.”

  “Class starts at seven. The other guys should arrive around eight. They’ll hang out and wait for us. I’ll introduce you.”

  “I look forward to it. Sweet dreams, Payton.”

  “Good night, Dean,” she whispers, the smile on her lips heard through the phone.

  Hanging up, I smile at not just what transpired, but also the prospect of meeting her family Saturday night. I’m a bit nervous since I haven’t really met someone’s family in several years, but I’ve seen most of the Summer sisters around town and they seem pretty easy-going.

  Tossing the soiled shirt in the hamper, I stretch out in bed, anxious for Saturday night.

  * * *

  From the moment I graduated college and started working in the real world, I drifted from the few fr
iends I had made in school. After a few years of hard work and keeping my nose to the grindstone, I met Brooke and our social life revolved around her and her friends.

  So when my buddy Greg calls me up Saturday morning, saying he’ll be in town for the weekend, I jump at the opportunity to meet up with him. I’m supposed to take Bri to Mom’s house mid-afternoon, which means I have plenty of time to get together with Greg, have dinner, and catch up before I need to head to The Beaver to meet Payton.

  We decide to meet at Joker’s Wild because they serve the best steaks on Saturday nights. When I walk through the front door, I make my way through the bar to the back room, which serves as their restaurant. I spot Greg right away at a back table with a large mug of beer sitting in front of him.

  “Hey, man. Good to see you,” he says as I approach.

  “You too. Having that MD behind your name looks good on you,” I quip goodheartedly.

  He laughs and takes a drink from his full mug. “It better look good on me for all the sleep and social engagements I sacrificed putting myself through medical school.”

  “How’s life?” I ask, grabbing a menu.

  “Good. Busy. I joined a small practice in Virginia Beach two years ago when I completed my residency and met a woman who doesn’t complain about my crazy work schedule.”

  After ordering a beer for myself, I reply, “That’s great, man. Congrats. Are we going to be doing the YMCA and the Casper Slide at your wedding soon?”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I’m hoping you’ll make a weekend out of coming to Virginia Beach on August thirty-first and standing up with me while I profess my love to one woman for the rest of my life.”

  I blink several times, surprised at his request.

  “I can tell I’ve caught you off guard. I wasn’t expecting to start off our dinner with this, but that’s where it went.”

  “No, I’m happy for you. I’d be honored to stand up with you.”

  “Thanks,” he says sheepishly. “I’ll admit that we haven’t stayed in touch as much as I would have liked over the last decade since college, but I’ve always considered you one of my closest friends. And with my work schedule, I haven’t made too many friends who aren’t work colleagues, so I made an exception and asked you.”