Just the Tip (DTF (Dirty. Tough. Female) Book 4)

by Kat Addams

  “Nice to meet you.” I smiled at her parents. “You have such a lovely place here.”

  “Oh my! That accent. Wow! Layla told us you were Australian, but that was it! I never really thought about the accent though. Now, I get it.” Barbara smirked, elbowing Layla.

  “My two silly girls.” Stan shook his head. “Apologies, Aiden, but we have heard absolutely nothing about you. For some reason, our little girl here likes to keep us all in suspense. So, please, come sit. Make yourself at home.” Stan clapped me on the back. “Tell us about the Down Under and what brings you here to our slice of life.”

  “I’d love to! I’m so sorry we were running late.” I ran my palm through my hair, wondering how I could make an excuse without throwing Layla under the bus.

  “It was me.” Layla shrugged.

  “That’s quite all right. We knew Layla would be late. That’s why we told her to be here at six. Dinner is actually at seven.” Barbara turned, heading off toward what I assumed was the kitchen.

  I raised my brows. I’d get along with her parents just fine.

  We spent the evening discussing my life back in Australia. I told them about my parents, the accident and all. Even Layla hadn’t heard much of what had happened. But talking about it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be. Speaking their names aloud kept my memory of them alive. After I finished my story, Layla and both of her parents had tears in their eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to get all sad on ya. My parents had a lovely life. Short but lovely,” I said.

  “You sound like you were very close to them,” Barbara whispered, refilling her wineglass.

  “I was. I’m a family man. Which brings me to this little girl right here and this big one!” I reached over, patting Layla’s belly and trying to lighten the mood.

  “I’m happy you’re stepping in to take responsibility. That little girl will be your world, just as Layla is mine.” Stan smiled. “She’s going to need all the help she can get so that she can finish that degree.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure of that.” I gazed at Layla, reassuring both her and her parents.

  I wanted Layla to succeed. I saw just how happy she could be when she was in her element, and my daughter needed that. Happy mum, happy child.

  “I’m tired, Mom. I know we have so much to talk about, baby and all, but I think I’m ready to get home. I haven’t stopped working and studying all week.” Layla pushed herself up from the table, and we all rose up to help her.

  “Oh, that’s okay, honey! You go home and sleep. We can do this again another time. Maybe we can make it a regular thing! Especially when baby girl is here!” Barbara clasped her hands together before kissing her daughter on the cheek.

  “Sounds like a plan.” Layla yawned, shuffling toward the door.

  “It was nice to meet you two. I’m sure we will connect again soon. Thank you for the amazing dinner, especially that bread! Outstanding! You could sell that, you know.” I hugged her mum good-bye and shook Stan’s hand again.

  “It was my pleasure. I’ll be sure to bake you up a batch to take home next time,” Barbara said.

  Layla tugged me toward the car as her mum and dad kept calling out to us. I helped strap her into the passenger seat and waved my final good-bye to Barbara and Stan before driving away.

  “Too tired to swing by my new restaurant, I suppose?” I glanced at Layla, who sat beside me, rubbing her thighs.

  “I’m not tired at all. I’m horny. I had to get out of there. Aiden, I need you,” she said breathlessly.

  I slowly eased my foot off of the gas so that I could think straight. I wasn’t one for multitasking. If I could pull over and think, I would have. But we were turning onto the interstate, and from what I thought I’d heard, I needed to get Layla home.

  “Wait. So, you aren’t tired. You’re horny. And you need me to …” I asked, making sure I’d heard what I thought I’d heard.

  “I need you to do that thing with your stovepipe again. But I don’t think I can fit into the backseat anymore. Will you stay at my place tonight? I have an extra toothbrush.” She kept rubbing her thighs, inching her kimono up.

  Monica had never let me touch her when she was pregnant. I had no idea how pregnant sex worked, but I sure as hell wanted to find out.

  “I told you that I’d take care of you. That means, in any way you need it. Let’s get you home, hot mama.” I gripped the steering wheel, driving as safe as I could with precious cargo beside me.

  “I hope this isn’t awkward. I know we’re just friends and all. With benefits. But these pregnancy hormones have me crying or laughing or horny or hungry. I was trying to focus on dinner with my parents, but all I could think about when I cut into that sausage was my sausage mitten.”

  “Life force. Milk bucket. Sausage mitten. I’d say, if anything, we are past the point of being awkward. You can just think of it as friends doing each other a solid.” I held my hand out for a fist bump.

  “Super Friend.” She crashed her knuckles into mine before exploding them out, making a garbled sound and laughing.

  And there it was. That laugh. The one that revved my engine more so than I revved my new fancy-pants car. I breathed out slowly before making my next move. I didn’t want to do my friend a solid. I wanted to do my lover, the mother of my child, and possibly my girlfriend. And I wanted to do her oh-so well.

  “Did I ever tell you that your laughter is music to my ears?” I said as we pulled into her neighborhood.

  “What?” She sat up, pulling at her seat belt.

  “Your laughter. It’s like a lullaby. Sometimes … sometimes, it’s like a siren’s song that lures me in. Like right now. You’re luring me in with those sweet giggles. No woman has ever had me so entranced by her voice alone.” I parked the car before glancing at her.

  She didn’t answer back, and I became terrified that what I’d said would make her tear up again.

  “Aiden, no one has ever spoken to me like that before. My laughs do it for you. Your charm does it for me. Let’s just drop all the friendly bullshit and go to bed. I need you. Treat me like more than a friend tonight.” Her eyes snapped to mine as she reached over the console and grabbed my cock.

  “I’d love to do nothing more,” I growled.

  I hoisted her out of the car in no time. We both raced inside of her house, flinging our clothes left, right, up, down. Our hands, legs, arms, feet, lips became a jumbled mess as we struggled to undress. She accidentally punched me in the eye, and I accidentally yanked her hair, but we finally made it to her bed, completely naked.

  “Wait! I want to see you. All of you before we get between these sheets. Let me have a look.” I stepped back, taking her all in. My gaze trailed down from her eyes to her collar to her ginormous breasts—hell yes!—to the road map with the faint linea nigra leading down to her vulva, which did not look like two swollen Twinkies.

  Thanks, Deb!

  “This doesn’t count. My body doesn’t normally look like this,” she said, covering herself as much as she could with her hands.

  “You’re growing my child. You’re the most beautiful thing on this damn planet. And I get to have my way with you.” I stepped forward, jabbing her with my rock-hard erection.

  It had been days since I tickled my pickle. I’d been too busy. I knew Tom would spout off like a fire hose the second I unleashed him.

  “Can I … do I … I don’t need a condom, right? Unless you …” I asked, running my hands along her shoulders.

  “I’m not seeing anyone, just you. Don’t think you can knock me up twice like that. Wouldn’t that be weird? Come cream-pie me. I can’t wait any longer.” She grabbed my ass, pushing my hips into her.

  “I fucking love pie,” I said, walking her backward to the bed.

  I gently lowered her down, prepared to crawl on top, but she pushed me back, grabbed Tom, and stuck his head between her lips.

  “Just the tip.” She laughed, circling her tongue a
round my dick.

  “That’s what started it all. Such a tease.” I brushed her hair back, moaning as I watched her struggle to take me into her mouth.

  She locked eyes with me, opened her jaw wide, and stuffed me inside.

  “Fuck …” I breathed out. “Naughty girl. Let me give you what you really want.” I leaned down, slipping my hands under her arms and pulling her up onto the bed. I paused, trying to figure out the logistics of getting around her belly.

  “It’s okay. I’ll take what I want.” She pushed me aside, climbing on top of me and squishing into my lap.

  I looked up at her and gasped.

  “What? Did I hurt you? Am I too heavy? I’m so sorry.”

  She began to climb off of me. I stopped her, pulling her gently back onto my lap.

  “No. Not at all. You’re just the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. Truly. I had the perfect view.” I reached up, caressing her breast before brushing my fingertip across her hard nipple. “You’re a goddess. The most perfect woman I’ve ever met. Your skin is radiant. Your body is glowing. Fuck. It’s me who needs you, Layla. No pregnancy hormones involved here. No excuses or friendly bullshit. I like you. And I need you. Now.”

  “You say all the right things,” she sighed, lifting her hips and slipping my cock inside of her.

  She winced, slowly lowering herself back down to my hips. I knew I took some getting used to. Hell, I could barely wrap my own palm around my dick. But Layla took me like a champ.

  “Are you okay? I know I—”

  How do I say I know I have a big, fat stovepipe of a dick without sounding like a douche bag?

  “Have a stovepipe dick. Fuck! It’s like riding a Pringles can, Aiden! How do you get anything done with this thing? It’s glorious. If I had something like this, I’d grip it with both of my hands and shake it around all day, playing with it. Tom is the bomb!” She laughed. Her pussy clutched at my cock with each of her giggles, taking my mind off the awkward direction our conversation had taken and back to the task at hand.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Do that again. Fuck.” I clenched my teeth, sucking my breath in hard.

  “Do what? Bounce?” She dribbled her hips on top of me like she was a basketball and I was looking to score.

  “No. Well, that too. But giggle. That laugh. I need it. It feels even more amazing than it sounds.”

  She laughed loudly, bouncing faster. If I wasn’t so horny, I’d think she had lost her marbles and I was about to be shivved in a demonic rage from this psycho.

  My legs began to shake out from under me. My feet twitched. The more she laughed, the wilder I became. I grabbed her hips, slamming her down onto me. Her pussy gripped around my stovepipe so tight that I felt like she might cut off my blood circulation. But it felt good.

  Hurts so good.

  Layla would have no problems delivering our baby. This lady Kegel-ed.

  Thanks, Deb.

  She tore my hands from her hips and pinned my wrists down over my head. She leaned over me, grinding her clit against my pubic bone.

  Again, thanks to Deb and Google for my anatomy lessons.

  Her breasts hit me in the face with each giggly bounce. I caught a nipple in my mouth and bit down hard.

  “Oh shit! Mama like!” She laughed, bearing down and strangling Tom in a pussy death grip. She rubbed herself faster over me.

  I couldn’t say anything with a mouthful of her boob. I was only able to roll my eyes in the back of my head and let out a few muffled moans.

  “Do you like it when I laugh like this, Daddy?” She leaned back up, still bouncing and laughing.

  I reached out, circling her wet clit with my thumb.

  “Keep going, Mama.” I didn’t care how weird this was getting. I was on the verge of exploding, and I’d probably do just about anything she asked me right now—milk bucket and all.

  “I’m about to—I can’t keep—out—of—breath—oh—fuck!” She threw her head back, laughing maniacally as her pussy pulsed waves down the entire length of my cock.

  I curled my toes and lifted my hips while my dick spouted off inside of her, withering around like a balloon that someone had let the air out of. It wiggled this way and that so much that even she stopped bouncing and looked down at me, horrified.

  “Um, that’s new.” She bit her lip, giggling again, still throbbing on my cock.

  Tom let out another spurt.

  “It’s been a while. Sometimes, my cock goes a little crazy. Sorry about that.” I shrugged, reaching up to glide my palms over her beautiful breasts again.

  “Don’t apologize. I liked it. I’ve never felt anything like that before. I didn’t know they could move that way. Has your dick been taking dance lessons too?”

  “You’d think. He has a natural talent for it, that old Tom.” I brought my hands to her hips, steadying her on top of me. I held her in place partly because as soon as she hopped off my lap, we’d have a ridiculously messy cream pie to clean up, but mostly because I didn’t want this moment to end.

  Hopium. Layla. Each was one hell of a drug.

  SEVEN

  Layla

  Having Aiden stay at my house felt amazing. I had never asked a man to stay overnight before. If I planned on bumping uglies with someone, it was either at his place or no place. I knew if a man came here, I’d want to do the housewife thing, and I’d quickly become attached, which was precisely what I did with Aiden.

  When he woke up, I’d already made breakfast. I knew the way to a man’s heart was through his dick and his stomach.

  I liked being Little Layla Homemaker. I wanted to make my man feel special.

  I had all sorts of recipes I’d try out on my new husband once I was married. But since that fantasy seemed to be in the very distant future, I’d decided to go ahead and invite Aiden to stay the night. I didn’t ask him because I wanted to get into his heart. I’d asked him because I wouldn’t ever have this opportunity to play house and live out my fantasies again—or at least, not for a while. Also, I was hornier than a moo-cow in heat. I felt like one too. Navigating around my pointed belly was an exercise in itself. I woke up sore in places I’d forgotten I had. No one had ever told me that pregnant sex would give me a full-body orgasm. I’d felt that tingle all over, even in my eyelashes.

  For a moment, when I’d woken next to Aiden, I’d thought about reaching over and trying for round two. But then, I remembered why I’d asked him to stay in the first place. I wanted those housewife memories, even if they were fake. I’d hopped out of bed and thrown together a batch of my special confetti pancakes before I heard him stir.

  When he came into the kitchen, I had breakfast on the table and a steaming cup of coffee waiting.

  “What’s this? It looks amazing,” he said, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table.

  His hair stood out from his head in a tousled mess, and he wore only the pair of boxers I’d slipped off him last night. I bit my lip, admiring his rippled abs that I would surely destroy with my cooking. Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t mine. I’d plump him up in no time.

  “Confetti pancakes—or just pancakes with sprinkles and whipped cream.” I shrugged, settling in beside him with a stack of pancakes for myself and baby girl.

  “Thank you. I’m supposed to feed you though.” He scooped a forkful of whipped cream up and held it out for me to bite.

  “I enjoy cooking too. And I can’t eat that.” I frowned, prodding my plain pancakes with a fork. “I’m lactose intolerant. Sexy talk, right?”

  “Ahh. I can’t bring you milkshakes then. Or ice cream. Or cheese. Wait. I’ve seen you eat cheese!” He bit into the pancakes, rolling his eyes to the back of his head and groaning.

  I smiled. That was exactly how my future husband had better react when he tasted my cooking.

  “Just because I’m not supposed to eat it doesn’t mean I don’t. I do, but … I suffer the consequences, which aren’t fun, especially when I’m pregnant. So, no, thanks. You can enjoy your
cream.”

  “Speaking of cream … about last night. I hope things aren’t too weird for you this morning. It seemed like everything happened kind of fast. I don’t want you to think you owe me anything or—”

  “Why would I owe you anything?” I watched as he licked his lips between bites. I wanted to lean over and taste the maple syrup on his mouth, but instead, I shifted my eyes to my cat, Mars, who decided to come say hi.

  “For the clothes. I didn’t know if that was why.” He blinked at Mars, startled. “Oh. You have a cat? Where have I been? Why didn’t I even know you had a cat? And you’re lactose intolerant. Hmm. There is so much I don’t know about you.”

  He set his fork down and scooted his chair next to mine. Mars meowed at my feet.

  “I didn’t know the inside of your home would be the coziest, most eccentric place I’d ever seen. I had no idea your cabinets were painted robin’s-egg blue or that your hardwood floor was a dusty gray. I didn’t know you had a mirror directly across from the bed, where I could see your stunning reflection while you rode me hard last night. I didn’t know that when I could take my time with you, your pussy would feel like velvet on my cock. I didn’t know that you made the best damn after-sex pancakes a man could hope for. And I definitely didn’t know that it was possible to feel the way I feel for a friend.”

  “Oh, Aiden,” I breathed out his name like I’d made a wish.

  “Shh. Let’s not talk about all that. Let me just take care of you again. I want to explore you. I have time if you have time.” He rose from his seat, grabbing my hand and hoisting me up and into his arms.

  “I have time,” I lied, putting off my study group session and instead screwing around with my friend.

  After Aiden left my house, besides a quick text to check in, we hadn’t spoken much throughout the week. I’d been busy with classes and prepping for this weekend’s DTF sleepover, and he’d been busy with his new restaurant. At least, that was what I told myself. What else could he be doing? The thought of another woman crossed my mind, sending my heart rate skyrocketing. My daughter kicked me hard in response.