by Edie Sommers
Andy didn’t talk much, but now I found myself at a loss for words. I dropped to my knees, running my fingers over the scar on his hip. Flattening my tongue, I swiped up his shaft. Andy’s groan echoed in the tiled room. Through a steamy haze I watched him throw back his head as he angled his body to shield me from the spray. I licked away a drop of fluid at the tip of his cock and paused, closing my eyes to savor the taste of him.
Electric shocks flooded my body. If he touched my clit now I’d explode. Pulling myself back under control, I took him into my mouth, spreading my lips wide, and fighting not to touch myself.
Hands on his thighs, I sucked, sliding up until only the head remained in my mouth, then plunged again, taking him as far as I could without gagging. Fingers in my damp hair, he didn’t force me or fuck my mouth. The trembling in his legs gave away his fight with his own self-control.
I bobbed faster but didn’t earn more moans. Hint taken. Slow and steady and deep. That’s how he liked his loving. Taking his balls in one hand, I gently rolled them, altering my pace to keep him on edge. Too much trembling—I backed off.
“Tease,” he mumbled, sounding more impressed than anything else.
I chuckled around my mouthful, wresting a cry from him.
“I’m gonna come,” he hissed, pulling my mouth off him.
Fighting his hold, I plunged back down.
Andy cried out, “Ah!” and pumped into my mouth. Finally, finally, he let himself go.
Now I was the one to steady him, hold him upright, though my pussy wailed for relief. This was for Andy.
He sagged against me, emptying himself into my mouth. My mouth overflowed, though I swallowed all I could. When at last he softened and dropped from my lips, I hung my head, cupped my hands, caught water, and washed away the evidence.
Andy reached under my elbows and hoisted me up, joining our lips and tongues, the taste of him still strong in my mouth.
Hands under my ass, he lifted me up, carried me out of the bathroom and laid me down on his bed.
“I’m wet!” I scrambled to get up and stop making a mess of his sheets.
“It’ll dry.” He spread my legs and proceeded to lap away moisture not caused by the shower. Oh God! Skillful fingers parted me. How could anyone be so gentle and forceful at the same time?
Consciousness grew fuzzy. My world tunneled down to his hands on my thighs and his face between my legs. Lightning, thunder, earthquakes. I laced my fingers through his dark waves and hung on for dear life. Every nerve ending, every ounce of my being raced south—and exploded.
I cried out and flew apart. Tremor after tremor rocked me, reducing me to whimpers and incoherent thoughts. “Tha…tha…” What the hell was I trying to say? I collapsed, aftershocks zinging through me. When my brain cells rebooted, I lay against his chest, his arms around me and his heart thudding in my ear. That was… incredible, and I tilted my head back to say so.
“Can I kiss you?” A gentle smile turned up Andy’s lips.
Why ask now, after… after… Oh.
“You’re too much of a gentleman, you know that?” I sealed my lips to his. His taste mingled with mine.
Rolling over put me on top of him, and a little fumbling lined his renewed erection with where I wanted it to be. Only… I paused.
Without a word he reached into his bedside table and grabbed what we needed. Watching him stroke latex down his length put a hitch in my throat, adding to my anticipation.
Finally, he dropped his hands to the bed and I resumed my position. Inch by exquisite inch I lowered myself down, eyes locked with his and me hissing with pleasure. My orgasm left me far more sensitive. Was it the same for him?
We rocked together, he and I, in a rhythm as old as time. Unhurried, the urgency passed. My hands splayed against his chest, his cupping my ass cheeks, we danced to our own tune. At times I’d stop and lean down for a kiss. Others, he arched up to suck my breasts.
No embarrassment colored my skin when he ran his fingers over my body, exposed in broad daylight for his admiring eyes.
For what seemed like hours we marveled in each other, until at last desire ramped up and pushed us over the edge.
I lay in his arms once more, a sheet shielding me from the lazy breeze of a ceiling fan. The room darkened as night fell.
“Wasn’t there someplace we were supposed to be?” I asked, running my nails over his flat abs.
“I’d planned to take you to the movies tonight.”
“Oh.”
“You wanna go?”
“Too comfortable.” Damn, Andy’s lack of vocalization must be catching. He’d left me too lazy to speak.
“Hungry?”
I think half of the words he’d said to me in the past few days involved his desire to feed me. “I guess you should check on your soup, right?”
“Turned it off. Sure you don’t want to go out?” He snugged his arm more firmly around me, pulling me closer.
His skin felt warm against my own. He smelled of soap and sex. I walked my fingers down his bare chest. “That would mean we have to get dressed. I like you nekkid.”
Nice not to be the only one in the room capable of blushing. “I’ll be right back.” Andy scooted out from under me and out the bedroom door, seemingly unbothered that he gave me a glorious view of the ass I’d always admired under running shorts.
I dove into the bathroom.
Andy lay sprawled in the bed when I returned, a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. “Ice cream?”
Ice cream! My drug of choice. Just when I’d thought the day couldn’t get better. I crawled into bed and peered into the bowl. “Rocky Road! One of my favorites! How did you know?”
He scowled. “How many times have I helped you cart groceries into the house? I did notice something besides your pert little behind. Besides, it’s my favorite too.”
Right. I’d replaced some in his freezer.
He’d noticed my ass? Woot! He could’ve said something before now. “Yours ain’t so bad either.” Oops, had I just said that out loud?
Andy snickered. “Don’t think me and Jack haven’t figured out why you lag behind when we go running.”
They knew? “You knew.”
His eyes got all smoky and serious. He fed me a bite of ice cream. “We’ve been talking about you since the day you moved in.”
Really? “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I’d love to take back the words and wipe the dejection from his face. “Because we both wanted you. We thought it best to wait until…”
“Until what?”
Andy opened his mouth and then closed it again, whatever was on his mind remaining unsaid. He smeared ice cream on my lips and licked it off, fed me a bite, then dropped a dollop on my nipples.
We never made it to the movies.
10
Conversations like the one I planned needed privacy. Darlene sat across from me outside of work at a picnic table normally only visited by smokers. Everyone else seemed to prefer the air-conditioned break room.
Where too many busybodies were dying for some gossip of the Andy and Jack magnitude.
“I am such a slut.” I buried my face in my hands.
Darlene pulled my hands away from my face but didn’t let them go. “Why?”
“Because I slept with Andy! What’ll Jack think?”
“Have you asked him?” Trust Darlene to be the voice of reason and head off my rant and howl session.
“Are you kidding? How could I?” How, oh how, could I face him again? Did Andy tell him about our date that never left the bedroom?
“He’s a grown man, isn’t he? Haven’t you told me about all the women he’s brought home?” My bestie let go of my hands to dig into her lunch bag for a snack.
I glowered. I so did not need reminding that Jack and Andy could have anyone they wanted.
Darlene held her hands up, palms out, or as much as she could with one hand clutching a chocolate chip cookie. “That wasn’t an insult. I�
�m just saying, he’s a grown man and knows what grownups do on dates. It’s part of the getting-to-know-you thing.”
Yes, he did, and I imagined him doing those same things with the women he’d brought home.
Darlene polished off her cookie and delved back into the deceptively small looking lunch bag. There had to be a black hole in there. I wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled out a whole baked chicken—which she’d done once. “Now, let’s discuss this rationally.” She waved around a forkful of potato salad before popping the bite into her mouth. Trust her to eat dessert first. “Was the sex good?”
“Darlene!”
“Hey, if I ever have sex again, I’d tell you!”
If the sex happened with Brenda, I’d blush crimson every time I took a report to Accounting. “Yes, yes it was. Great. Incredible, even. Like I said, I’m such a slut.” I buried my face in my hands again.
Darlene smacked the table. I jumped and glanced up at one serious scowl. “Don’t you dare slut-shame yourself. Didn’t you tell me that Andy and Jack brought home women all the time?”
Yeah. “So?”
“So. Do you consider the guys to be sluts?”
“No!” How dare she suggest those things about my friends. Her, I’d kill for. For them, I’d maim to defend their honor.
“Then why’s your sleeping with Andy any different? Hell, he’s the first guy you’ve slept with since…” She rolled her eyes upward and tapped a finger against her chin. “Hmm… not sure I remember.”
“It wasn’t that long ago.” I snapped. “Your point?” I swatted a gnat away from my face, a hazard of being outside.
“You’ve slept with one guy. One you know and care for, and who cares for you. A friend. Where’s the shame in that?”
“Because I—”
Darlene cut me off with a growl. “Because you wanted him? Wanted sex? Girl, you have as much right as anyone to do what comes naturally. Just because society tells you women should be demure, especially here in the South, doesn’t mean you have to listen. You wanted him, he wanted you, you’re both consenting adults. No harm, no foul.” She tucked back into her potato salad.
“But what if something happens with Jack?” If I managed to work up the nerve to keep my date with him. How had dating them both seemed like a good idea?
“Then you’ll be intimate with a friend, someone you can trust. You do trust him, right?”
Did I? Oh, hell, yeah. Trusted them both. The “Yes” squeaked out of me a little too meekly.
“I can’t hear you,” Darlene sing-songed.
“Yes!”
“Yes, what?”
“I trust him. I trust both of them.”
She put down her fork. More solemnly she asked, “Do you trust me?”
“Are you kidding? You helped me home after the Joe’s Tavern incident, and as far as I know, never told anyone I’d gotten drunk and danced on the bar.” She’d better not. She pinky swore, after all.
“And I won’t. But you didn’t answer my question. Do you trust me?”
“Of course, I do!” What kind of question was that?
“Then trust me when I say you’re not a slut.” She pointed to my sandwich. “Now, eat your lunch like a good girl. You’re going to need your strength.”
Yes, I would. To get me through an entire week of shaking in my shoes.
“I am such a slut.” My reflection in the bathroom mirror didn’t make denials. However, the part of my brain Darlene claimed as her own smacked me in the back of a head and hissed, How dare you slut shame yourself?
I’d better listen to Darlene. She always knew if I didn’t.
Here I was, tingly every time I thought of Andy, readying myself for an evening with Jack. No way could Jack beat Andy. I’d never been treated so preciously, only to wake up to breakfast in bed.
I sat on the bed and ran my fingers down Magoo’s back. He pushed into my hand. “Why no one has snapped Andy up has to be one of life’s big mysteries,” I told my purring audience. “Caring, sensitive, observant, great cook. Okay, communication might be an issue.” I could be crass and outspoken at times and would have to remember to consider opinions he might not be able to voice.
The cat offered no advice, just chirped and butted my hand when I stopped petting. I smiled. “Yes, Your Highness.” Things were so easy for cats: eat, sleep, lounge all day, get spoiled silly.
My thoughts returned to Andy. Was he really comfortable with me seeing his brother tonight? For that matter, was I?
What would I say? What would I do? I curled up on the bed, hugging Magoo to my chest.
The knock on the door came too soon, or too late, or whatever.
On my way to the door I stopped four times to check out my silk T-shirt. Was it too tight? Not tight enough? Showed too much cleavage? Did I need more cleavage? Were my jeans too worn? Oh! I brushed cat fur from the material.
The knock repeated. Oh, yeah, right. Too late to worry now.
I opened the door on a grinning Jack.
“Hey, darlin’!” He spun me around and into a kiss. “Got your dancing shoes on? Or better yet, put on those Western boots you keep in the back of the closet.”
Dancing? Boots? I did as he asked, and as before, I climbed into his truck on my own.
“Where are we going?” I had to tear my gaze away from his grin to fit the seatbelt buckle into the catch.
“You’ll see.” He shifted into gear, turned the stereo up, and started singing.
With Weird Al. Maybe not the classic rock I normally listened to, but close enough.
Now, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a sexy as hell guy dressed in denim and leather, belting out “Tacky.”
He turned the corner too fast and smacked a hand to the console in a practiced motion to keep the pile of papers in check, all while crooning to me, sinful grin firmly in place.
What the hell? I joined him during the second chorus. Me and Jack, singing our fool heads off to a parody song.
We both knew all the words.
Passing the turn to the skating rink meant no repeat tonight of blisters and a sore butt from falling.
Instead, we headed out of town, but not in the direction Andy had taken me. Last time Jack and I had eaten pizza at the skating rink. No telling what he’d planned for tonight.
The family buffet restaurant wasn’t a bad choice, and I’d been there before with coworkers. “Better eat up,” he said. “I plan to work it off of you.” His wink froze me on the spot.
Oh dear. Darned if he didn’t cram one hell of a lot of innuendo into his throaty purr. Jack centered all his attention on me, so much so that he occasionally missed his mouth with his fork. “Have I ever told you you’re gorgeous? You have the prettiest eyes.”
Short, simple compliments. From anyone else I’d suspect flattery to get into my pants. Jack didn’t need flattery, just a thumb and forefinger on my zipper. If he kept looking at me like something tastier than the slab of pecan pie on his plate, I might do the honors myself.
A twinge of guilt ate at my conscious. Last weekend I’d ridden his brother like a champion bull rider, for a whole lot longer than eight seconds. Now I held out hope to do the same to Jack.
Cassie, thy name is slut.
But if I had to be a slut, I’d make sure to be the best slut in the county.
“Not a slut!” I heard in Darlene’s voice.
I’d never been to the honkytonk Jack took me to after dinner. Music blared into the parking lot from inside. He paid the cover charge, growled at the bouncer who stared at me a bit too long, and escorted me inside with a hand low on my back.
“Hey there, Jack,” a woman said the moment we stepped through the door. “Who’s your friend?”
“This here’s Cassie.” His arm around me gave me courage to face this woman with the slight sneer on her lips. She had to be gorgeous, didn’t she? With that whole, flawless, cat’s eye liner thing going on. I’d tried the look once, and nearly put my eye out with a mascara wand.<
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Whereas I’d slapped on blush, eyeshadow, a little mascara and lip gloss and called myself done, this woman contoured her face to a fare-thee-well. She thrust out her chest and gave me a haughty once-over.
“Hi,” I said, staring her down. I’d only ever fought with my kid brother, but if this woman wanted to get catty, I’d take her down a notch. I pulled myself up to my full height, aided by my bootheels, and still didn’t come close to her statuesque altitude.
She threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, you got yourself a live one here, Jacky-boy. What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have a Bud. Cassie?” Jack wouldn’t order for me. I had a mouth and could make my own choices. I liked that. A lot.
“Give me the same.” Most of the customers appeared to be drinking beer. Good enough for Jack? Good enough for me. Besides, I never drank much beer, being more of a wine girl—and a lightweight—but shouldn’t I be open to trying the things my date liked?
Besides, I was so not ordering a root beer in honkytonk central.
“You’re all right, you know that?” the walking makeup commercial said, though she still appeared to be sizing me up. She tossed her piled blonde ringlets. “Table over by the jukebox’s empty. Take a load off.”
Instead of going around the dance floor, Jack shimmied his way across, holding my hand in his. Men and women both approached to say hello. The women might even take a couple of steps with him, and one man too. Jack humored them all, and even dipped the man while the onlookers applauded. His easy way with people was belied by the stiff set of his shoulders once we’d passed the crowd. Though he laughed and boogied on command, he kept pieces of himself at bay.
The woman I’d mistaken for a rival was protective of him. She must know something I didn’t. I kept my eye on her when she disappeared down the hallway. “I’ll be right back,” I told Jack, dashed in her wake, and into the ladies’ room. I waited for my quarry to emerge from a stall.
She eyed me in the mirror while I washed my hands. “What’s up with you and Jack?” I asked.
