Caulk Tease

by Green, Megan

He smirks at me while leaning against the doorjamb and asks, “Is that the best you’ve got?”

  Ugh.

  Even my insults aren’t good enough for him. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to be enough. He didn’t think I could do the job I was hired for and he didn’t think I could take care of myself. Which is evident since I’m currently standing in his bedroom in the very early hours of the morning, instead of the motel room I checked myself into. It doesn’t matter that the place was a shithole. It’s all I could afford, and I did it on my own.

  He took my independence away and I just can’t stand for that.

  My anger gets the best of me as I pick up one of the stupid decorative pillows on his bed—why does he even have something like this? Did his mother decorate the room? Or maybe an ex-girlfriend? Before I can think better of it, I pick the pillow up and throw it across the room.

  “Asshole!” I yell as it hits him square in the face.

  Man, that felt good.

  I don’t give him a chance to recover before I grab for another one, screaming at the same time.

  “Prick!”

  Throw.

  “Douche canoe!”

  Throw.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Throw.

  “Hey!” He catches the last pillow in midair and takes purposeful steps toward me until we’re chin to chin. “Insult me all you want, but the minute you say something about my mom, we have a problem.”

  I didn’t mean it literally and I know I should apologize, but I can’t find it in me to say the words. I clench my jaw and lock my eyes on his. We’re both panting with anger and I can feel his breath on my lips.

  He’s so close it wouldn’t take much for me to place my lips on his.

  The tension in the room is palpable. Everything we’ve been feeling and fighting for each other finally crashes through with neither one of us holding back. All of the pranks and mock hatred we’ve shared has been a mirage. A coping mechanism to hide the intense connection that we can no longer deny.

  Without breaking eye contact, I close the short distance between us, and my teeth sink into his bottom lip. Hard. The copper taste of blood hits my tongue and Barrett releases a growl. With a pop, I release him only long enough for our mouths to slam back together. We’re a frenzied mess of tongues and teeth as we devour each other.

  My heart pounds in my chest as his hand cups the back of my head holding me in place. The vicious exploration is welcomed as his tongue delves deeper into my mouth. I grip his arms, partly for balance and also to hold him to me. There’s no way I’m letting him get away now.

  At some point, we start moving backward until my back hits the mattress and I bounce up slightly, but Barrett is right there with me as he jumps on top of me. My traitorous hands run down his front and I shiver at the contact of his bare skin. I’m in so much trouble and I don’t even care to stop this.

  I want this.

  I want him.

  He slides down my body taking my thin pair of panties with him in the process. His tongue tortuously slow, working its way up the inside of my leg. Goosebumps spread out over my skin as a shiver travels down my spine. The boom, boom, boom of my heart echoes through my brain as my eyes lock with his. I’m transfixed as he slowly lowers his head and continues to watch me. My head is thrown back with one swipe of his tongue at my entrance and I thrash on the bed as he pays special attention to my clit.

  The sheet crumples in my fists as he works me over, teasing every single part of me. My chest heaves and animalistic noises that I never knew I could make escape me.

  “Don’t stop,” I pant as my body climbs higher and higher. The familiar tingle in my belly starts building and I know it’s only a matter of seconds before I fall over the edge.

  Which is exactly what he does. He fucking stops.

  Barrett has the biggest grin on his face as he moves up my body, leaving me hanging on the edge. What kind of an asshole does that?

  Pushing down on his head with both of my hands I say, “Get your ass back down there and finish me. I’m so close.”

  Tilting his head to the side, he asks, “My ass? You want my ass down there? I’m not sure we could get anything done that way…but if you insist.”

  He starts rolling over, but I push against his shoulders. Before I can even say anything, he slides right in and fills me all the way up.

  “Fuuuuuck,” he grunts out and I am in agreement with his sentiments.

  My thighs quake as I bring them up and wrap them around his waist. Our movements are in sync with each other as we both work toward our own release. Barrett slams into me over and over again and that orgasm he held back from me just moments ago starts building back up again.

  “Look at me.”

  My head is thrown back and my eyes are closed tight as I focus on my impending release. I ignore his request and concentrate hard on it.

  “Dammit, Monroe. Just look at me.”

  My eyes pop open of their own accord and the first thing I see is a thick vein on the side of his neck pulsating with blood. He has to be working so hard for his blood to be pumping that much. Shit. I lost concentration and my orgasm stopped building.

  “Can you feel that?”

  Did he say something? I peel my focus away from his neck and look up into his eyes. “What?”

  “I asked you if you can feel that?” He slowly slides out of me before thrusting back in which causes us both to moan.

  My eyes stay locked on his as he says, “Stop thinking so hard and just feel.”

  And I do.

  We don’t break eye contact and our movements become slower and less frenzied as we just feel the connection between our bodies. It doesn’t take long before my orgasm starts building, and more intense this time. Out of nowhere, it hits me hard and fast as wave after wave releases. I hear Barrett growl out as I focus on everything that’s going on with my own body.

  Two heartbeats pound against my chest and I can’t tell which one is mine and which one is his. But that was probably the most connected I’ve ever felt with someone in every sense of the word. When I finally let go and allowed myself to feel, our bodies became one.

  Barrett pushes himself up and rolls over beside me.

  “Holy—” I can’t even finish my sentiments as my breaths come out labored. I thought our first encounter had been mind-blowing, but this was something else entirely.

  “I know.”

  That’s all he says as he lies there next to me. Words aren’t even necessary at this point. What just happened between us. Wow. That’s all I have to say about that.

  I haven’t stopped wanting him since our first night together back in the bar. I just don’t know how to feel about it anymore. Barrett shuts the overhead light off before climbing back into bed with me. Rolling away from him onto the left side of the bed, I can’t stop the thoughts racing through my mind.

  There are two things that I’m sure about. This isn’t going to be the last time we end up in bed together, and Benton can never find out about us.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Barrett

  Monroe dozes peacefully in my arms, her cheek pressed against my chest as her soft breaths puff out across my skin. Each one sends a shiver of goosebumps up my spine, the sensation reminding me of the last four hours we spent tangled together beneath these sheets.

  When I’d followed her up here, I had every intention of trying to calm her down so we could both get some sleep. Instead, she’d thrown each and every one of those pillows I’d ordered custom for my bedroom at my face, calling me every name in the book.

  It was fucking hot.

  I hadn’t planned for last night to go down the way it did, but I can’t lie and say I’m not happy as hell over the way it turned out. Monroe and I had been dancing around each other since the first day on that job site, and it was about freaking time we stopped pussy footing around and started putting our money where our mouths were.

  Speaking of mouths…

&nbs
p; I hadn’t gotten nearly enough of Monroe’s taste last night. I could still feel the warmth of her pussy against my tongue, her sweet flavor lingering like the finest wine I’d ever tasted.

  It would be a shame to not experience that at least one more time before breakfast.

  Sliding myself out from under her, I press a soft kiss to her lips as I prop my body above hers. I feel the moment she stirs, her soft, even breaths hitching as my tongue begins its descent down her neck toward her breasts. Her fingers tangle in my hair, her nails rough against my scalp as she tugs, letting me know despite being woken from a sound sleep, she’s just as into this as I am. Which is really fucking good, because stopping right now might just about kill me.

  Monroe’s back arches off the bed as my mouth reaches her left breast, my mouth closing around her peaked nipple and sucking it between my lips.

  “God, Barrett,” she gasps out on a moan, her voice husky with both sleep and desire. “That feels so damn good.”

  I bite down gently, rolling the perfect peak between my teeth. She shudders beneath me, and my cock hardens even more beneath the thin sheet.

  This woman is going to be the death of me, I think as I move my mouth over to her right breast. And I can’t possibly think of a better way to go.

  Monroe Daniels has turned my damn world on its axis, and regardless of how wrong I know it is, I can’t bring myself to care. Because nothing has ever felt this good before. This right.

  After paying appropriate attention to her other nipple, I begin my descent, loving the way her thighs fall open for me as I move lower, her pussy just as hungry for my mouth as my mouth is for her taste.

  The moment my lips make contact, she lets out a moan that nearly has me coming on the spot, the sound so erotic and just fucking...carnal, that it takes everything in me to stop myself from flipping her over and plunging my cock into her wet heat right then.

  But that’s just going to have to wait.

  I dip my tongue inside her, lapping up her sweet nectar, before swirling my tongue up around her clit. Her hips buck wildly against my mouth, her hands fisting the sheets at her sides as her orgasm builds.

  I’ve just about got her right where I want her when it happens.

  “Knock, knock.”

  The voice echoes up the stairs and down the hallway, and I’d know that damn obnoxious tone anywhere.

  Benton.

  Fuck. Me.

  Monroe bolts up off the bed, the throw she’d been snuggling with all night wrapping around her bare breasts almost immediately as if that will somehow protect her from what’s about to happen.

  “Who is that?” she hisses, even though she knows just as well as I do who it is. “Why is he here?”

  I spring up off the bed, looking around for the flannel pants I’d shucked during our first tryst last night. “I have no fucking idea. But…”

  “He can’t find out about this, Barrett. Not like this.”

  Well, we’re on the same page there.

  “No, he can’t,” I say, finally finding my pants and pulling them on. My shirt is in a heap right beside them, and I slide that down over my head just as quickly. “Get dressed and get your ass back in that bed. I’ll tell him I was up here checking on you when he walked in and that you’re fast asleep.”

  “You think that’ll work?” she asks, eyeing me skeptically.

  I have no fucking clue if he’ll buy it. But I have to at least try. Benton finding out I spent the last four hours fucking his best friend will not go over well. Especially since as far as he knows, we hate each other.

  He’ll take this completely the wrong way. And the last thing our business needs right now is a rift between two of the partners.

  No, there’s no way Benton can find out about us. Not right now. Not until we know this is more than just an infatuation.

  I shoot Monroe a pointed look, trying to silently convey that she needs to hurry because I can already hear Benton’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. If she doesn’t get her ass back in that bed and do a convincing job of being asleep, this whole thing is going to be over before it even gets properly started.

  As I hear Benton near the top of the stairs, I slip out of the bedroom, pulling the door shut gently behind me.

  “Barrett, what are you—”

  “Shhh,” I cut him off. “She’s still asleep. I was just checking on her.”

  His brows furrow. “I heard voices.”

  Fuck.

  My mind reels for a moment, trying to figure out how I can explain that. Monroe talks in her sleep? No, he won’t go for that. She was having a nightmare? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Oh, I know!

  “The TV!” I say, a little too excitedly, and judging from the way Benton’s brows shoot nearly to his hairline, I’d say my overzealousness isn’t lost on him. “She must’ve woken up during the night and turned on the TV. I just switched it off so it wouldn’t disturb her.”

  He eyes me skeptically, pursing his lips as he assesses me. “Why are your clothes so wrinkled?”

  Because they spent the night in a pile at the foot of my bed as I buried myself inside your friend over and over again.

  “Couch,” is the answer I give instead. “Monroe took the bed, and since I don’t have the guest room set up right, I slept down there. It’s more comfortable than that damn pullout Bryce sleeps on when she’s here, but not by much.”

  “Hmm,” he says, and I think for a moment he’s going to call me on my bullshit. Even I have to admit, it’s not very convincing. But instead, he nods toward the bedroom door. “I’m gonna wake her. See how she’s feeling.”

  “Benton, I don’t think—”

  He shoulders past me, ignoring my protest and swinging open the door. With the force he uses, I know exactly what he was expecting to find.

  But in some sort of miracle—because honestly, only an act of God could explain the scene I see before me—the bedding has been righted, the comforter disheveled, but just enough to appear as if someone has spent the night sleeping here, instead of the hours of acrobatics that actually ensued.

  And in the middle of the bed, a serene-looking Monroe, her cheeks no longer flushed from passion, her hair mussed but not sex-crazed.

  She looks fucking perfect. So sweet and incredibly delicious lying there in my bed, and my cock instantly springs back to life at the sight.

  Not helping here, buddy.

  I shift imperceptibly, adjusting myself so that my hard-on isn’t visible through the thin fabric of my pajamas, grateful that my brother’s back is to me as he strides across the room to Monroe’s side.

  He nudges her gently, and I have to admit, she does do a pretty damn convincing job of waking. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she spent the last twelve hours in that very position, instead of…

  Well, you know.

  With a soft sigh, her eyes slowly open, her face a mask of confusion as she pretends to focus her vision on my brother.

  “Benton? What are you doing here?”

  He smiles down at her, and if he wasn’t my own brother and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure the feelings between them weren’t entirely platonic, I’d level his ass for looking at her like that.

  Whoa, where the fuck did that come from? I mean, Monroe and I have slept together a few times. It’s not like she’s...like she’s mine or something.

  But I realize as soon as I think the words how wrong they are. I might not know exactly what this is between us, but I do know one thing.

  That woman there, in my bed…

  She’s fucking mine. Mine until she tells me otherwise.

  We’re going to have to have a lengthy discussion once my jackass of a brother leaves.

  “Came to check on you,” Benton answers, his hand moving to her forehead to check her temp. And once again, my jealousy flares. “How are you feeling?”

  She gives him a soft smile. “So much better. Thank you.”

  “Good. Who knows what you might’ve caught in that dump.”<
br />
  And that brings the Monroe I know right to the surface.

  “I got sick because Smith brought his diseased ass to the job site when he should’ve stayed home, Benton. Not because I was staying at The Park.”

  Benton holds his hands up. “Alright, alright. I’m just saying, Monroe. That place is a shithole. Why were you staying there?”

  “Don’t exactly have a lot of other options, here, Ben.”

  “Which is why you’re going to stay here. Barrett already said it was cool.”

  “I am not—” she starts, but Benton’s hand quickly comes down over her mouth.

  The fury that fills her eyes as she shoots daggers up at my brother has me thankful I’ve never been on the receiving end of that look. Benton doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, however, his cocky smirk plastered on his face as he looks down at her.

  “Don’t you dare try to bite me, Daniels. Now, can you keep quiet long enough to hear me out, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?”

  If possible, her eyes grow even more enraged, previous roundness narrowing into angry slits. She doesn’t argue though, or even try to break free, and after a moment, Benton removes his hand.

  “Thought so,” he says smugly as he sits down on the bed next to her. “Now, I know you don’t like asking for help. So, I’m going to save you the trouble. Barrett and I are just going to provide it.”

  “But Benton, you know I don’t—”

  “I know, Monroe. I know you don’t need help. You’re fully capable of caring for yourself. But you shouldn’t have to. And you know what, Monroe? It’s time you let someone do something nice for you. The Park isn’t just a shithole because it’s dirty and rundown. Do you know what kind of people stay there? Dangerous ones. People have disappeared from there in the middle of the night, and nobody has ever heard from them again. So, you can fight me on this all you want, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back there. Barrett’s place was the most logical choice, considering he has the room. But if you really insist, we’ll find somewhere else. But you can bet your ass it won’t be The Park.”

  Monroe has the decency to look chagrined. “People have really disappeared?”