I Knead You Tonight

by Hunter, Teagan

  “You telling me if I got a blow job bench, you’d use it on me?”

  “I’m saying if you got a blow job bench, it would be used.” I lift a shoulder. “We’ll see if I’m the one on my knees or not.”

  Slice Fourteen

  Winston

  Winston’s To-Do List:

  Set up appointment with contractor for a new shower…with a blow job bench.

  Slice Fifteen

  Drew

  I’m starting to believe I’m trapped in a parallel universe or something because I can’t seem to keep my hands off Winston.

  I want to touch him, not just punch him.

  I want to be around him. Want to argue with him. Laugh with him. Simply sleep next to him.

  I just want to…be with him.

  It’s…weird, yet exciting.

  And so fucking scary.

  I’m sixty percent sure the spike in my libido over the last few days is because I’m making up for lost time—AKA being pregnant and single for so long—but it’s that forty percent that keeps nagging at me.

  Maybe it is just Winston.

  Maybe I’m not stuck in a parallel universe.

  Maybe…I like him.

  It’s something I thought was impossible, but perhaps I was wrong.

  Since living with him, I’ve seen a side of him I never paid any attention to before.

  He’s not the lazy asshole he seems to let everyone think he is. In fact, he’s quite the opposite. Thoughtful in ways I didn’t expect, he’s always doing small things for me, like making sure I have a clean towel when I get out of the shower and letting me get a plate of food first after slaving over a hot stove.

  I’ve learned a lot about his habits too.

  He’s an early riser, which surprised the hell out of me the first time he took off before the sunrise to capture it on film. He is fiercely protective of and dedicated to his hobby, and the time he devotes to it blows me away.

  If someone were to twist my arm, I might actually admit Winston isn’t the bad guy I’ve made him out to be.

  I just wish he’d give his body and his responsibilities the same attention he gives his photography.

  “What are you thinking about?” Winston asks, sliding the back door closed. “I swear I can hear your thoughts inside.” He flops down into the lounger next to me. “Here,” he says. “Thought you could use this.”

  He’s holding out a pint of ice cream.

  “What’s this for?” I ask, taking the offering because, though I didn’t ask for it, I’m not insane enough to pass up free ice cream.

  “When you’re not trying to jump my bones or give me random blow jobs in the kitchen, you’ve been kind of…off. I know you’re not on your period, but something’s up. Ice cream always makes me feel better, so I figured it could work for you too.”

  I smile, and my heart pitter-patters like it does when I look at my son.

  It feels full.

  “You try to jump my bones too,” I defend, twisting off the ice cream lid.

  And he might think I don’t notice, but I am well aware he always initiates something sexual whenever I bring up him trying physical therapy again.

  I let it slide, because he won’t go until he’s ready to go.

  I’ve said what I needed to say about it. Pushing him will do no good.

  “True, but I’m just a horny, irresponsible twentysomething-year-old with nothing else to do but fuck. What’s your excuse?”

  I don’t have one.

  “Thanks for this.” I shake the ice cream at him, ignoring his question. “You forgot a spoon though.”

  “Ah, one moment.” He grabs one out of his pocket and hands it to me. “I thought of everything.”

  “You’re really trying to butter me up.”

  He takes a sip of the beer he went inside for in the first place. “I’m just trying to figure out why it sometimes feels like you’re hate-fucking me and others it feels like there’s something else there.”

  I nearly choke on the bite of ice cream sliding down my throat.

  Good thing this stuff melts easily.

  “Jesus, Winston,” I say, wiping my mouth. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “You couldn’t handle how I really feel.”

  He tips the bottle back to his lips, and I know he can feel my eyes on him.

  Neither of us address his statement, because we both know he’s probably right.

  “I’m not hate-fucking you.” He slides his eyes my way, and I chuckle. “Okay, maybe a little, but you had it coming.”

  “Fair enough,” he agrees. “What about the other times though? What’s going on?”

  What’s going on is that I think I might have feelings for you, and I don’t want to have feelings for you.

  But I don’t say that because I’m way too afraid of his reaction.

  I don’t get easily intimidated. It’s just not who I am, probably from my hard upbringing, and I don’t let anyone or anything get the best of me.

  Winston, though…he’s different.

  He scares me, and I don’t know why.

  I sigh, setting my ice cream on the table next to me, and turn toward him.

  “What are we doing, Winston?”

  “Well, I’m enjoying this beer.” He takes another sip. “And you’re enjoying your free ice cream while we both enjoy this insanely beautiful night with zero dirty diapers because my sister kidnapped your baby.”

  “You know what I mean,” I press.

  He downs the rest of his beer and sets the bottle aside. For a few minutes, he doesn’t say anything. Just sits there, watching the coastline while I watch him.

  I wish I could crawl inside his head and figure out what he’s thinking, because it looks important.

  Then he rolls his head toward me, his usually bright blue eyes looking like sapphires in the glow of the setting sun.

  “Look, Drew, I don’t know what we’re doing right now. I don’t know what any of what we’ve been doing the last week means, but I do know I don’t want to talk about it right now. Right now, I want to touch you. Right now, I want you to come over here and ride my face and my cock until the sun comes up. We can figure out everything else later.”

  Just the mention of his cock has me missing the feel of him inside me.

  Missing the feel of him inside me? What the fuck is wrong with me? Who have I become?

  “Drew.”

  My eyes snap to his.

  He’s staring at me with this…hunger. Like he hasn’t eaten in days.

  Suddenly, I want him to take his fill.

  “Come here.”

  I stand, and he scoots down in the chair, patting the wide lounger arms.

  “Rest your knees here.”

  I bite my lip, looking at the arms that are just wide enough for me to balance on but are hard enough that I know I’m going to have bruises tomorrow.

  I’ve felt his tongue on me before.

  They’ll be worth it.

  I throw my leg over him, using the back of the chair as support and resting my knees on the arms.

  Winston’s hands trace up my thighs, pushing the hem of my long t-shirt—one of his, of course—up my legs, revealing my uncovered pussy.

  The night breeze is chilly on my skin, and I worry for a second about someone else being out on their porch, watching us, but the thought passes as quickly as it comes.

  I want this too bad to care.

  “My, my. You’ve been going commando this whole time?”

  I lift a shoulder. “Riker isn’t here, and Sully is conveniently gone too. I didn’t see the point in panties.”

  He grins at me, approving of my decision.

  He pushes the shirt up around my waist, his thumbs stroking my stretch marks in a loving manner.

  No matter how many times Winston has seen me naked over the last few days, he’s always taken time to show my scars attention, and every time, it makes my heart flutter.

  Don’t get me wrong, the sex
with Winston is incredible.

  But it’s the small moments, like when he kisses my scars or when he helps me with Riker, that make me feel like there’s something more going on inside his head.

  That make me feel something.

  I’m not stupid enough to mix feelings and sex again. I did that before with Chadwick. I thought for sure when I told him I was pregnant things would be different between us, and I guess in a sense I was right because he basically disappeared, but nothing went as planned.

  Mixing sex and feelings got me single and alone, broke and living with my nemesis.

  It’s not a mistake I’ll make again.

  This is just sex. It has to be.

  Right?

  “Hold your shirt up,” he directs.

  I do, and he uses his thumbs to spread my folds open.

  “God, you’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs, eyes firmly on my bare pussy. “So fucking perfect.”

  He leans forward, and I brace myself, so ready to feel his tongue on me again.

  He hasn’t eaten me out since the first night we slept together, and I’ve been craving it since.

  Only instead of flicking his tongue out, he places a gentle kiss to my clit.

  I groan in frustration and he chuckles.

  “So impatient,” he teases.

  “Well, yeah,” I huff. “This chair fucking hurts.”

  “Does it?” He grabs my thighs, holding me steady and tightly, my hips canting just half an inch closer to him with how strongly he’s gripping me. “Well then you better hurry up and fuck my face, Drew, because that’s the only way you’re getting down.”

  I don’t know what’s wrong with me, because I would never just heed a command like this, especially something so carnal, but in this moment I don’t care.

  I fuck him.

  I was right to miss this, because the way his tongue feels on my pussy is pure fucking magic.

  He makes me come twice before the ache in my knees becomes too much to bear.

  Winston helps me down onto the lounger, laying my spent form on top of him.

  “Holy hell,” I say breathlessly. “That was…wow.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I pinch his nipple. “Shut up.”

  He kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes, sinking into his warmth.

  He runs his hands over my exposed ass, kneading my cheeks, his fingers playing along my crack.

  “Don’t even think about it. It’s not happening. That’s a no-go zone.”

  He laughs. “I’ll talk you into it one day.”

  “Good luck,” I say to him, my body feeling so tired and worn out from all the sex over the last several days. “I’m sleepy.”

  “Then nap. I’ll wake you up in a bit.”

  * * *

  When I peel my eyes open again, it’s dark out.

  The crickets chirp back and forth, creating an arrangement only they can understand. The waves of the ocean lap against the shore, and the night air shifts with a cool breeze like no other.

  It’s peaceful and melodic.

  I could get used to sitting out here listening to the music the coast makes.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself, Drew. This isn’t permanent.

  I might be staying with Winston for now, but nothing about this is going to be long term. It’s just until I can get on my feet again.

  I can’t get attached to any of it.

  Especially not him.

  “Oh my god, finally,” Winston says from behind me when I stretch my back. “You’re awake.”

  Somehow during our nap, we moved until we were spooning.

  And based on the hard, hot cock I feel poking against my ass, Winston lost his shorts.

  “I didn’t realize when you said you’d wake me in a bit, it would be for sex.”

  “Did you expect anything less?” Winston’s lips ghost over my ear and he drives his hips into me. “Hey, Drew, you want some fuck?”

  I bust into laughter, shaking my head. “You are a complete idiot. A total moron. A horri—mmmm.”

  A moan slips out as his tongue slides over that sensitive spot just under my ear.

  “What was that? Something about how horrible I am?”

  “Shut up. Just…”

  His tongue dances along the spot again and I squeeze my thighs together, the touch going right between them.

  “Just what?” he whispers. “Just fuck you already?”

  I nod. “But dibs on bottom. My knees hurt too bad to be on top.”

  His hand runs up the back of my thigh, and to my surprise, he lifts it until my calf is resting on the same arm that gave me bruises I’ll cherish.

  Adjusting himself on the lounger, he snakes his hand between my thighs and slides his fingers between my folds, finding my clit, stroking it just the way he knows I like it.

  He plays with me long enough to get me standing on the edge then dips two fingers inside, stretching me.

  When I’m good and ready, he guides his cock into me.

  Winston takes his time fucking me. His thrusts are slow. Short. Lazy even.

  By the time he’s getting close, I feel like I’m about to explode.

  “I need to come,” I say to him, practically whining.

  “Again? You’re so greedy,” he teases. “Can you stand being on your knees for a minute?”

  “For an orgasm after you’ve been torturing me for so long? Yes.”

  Laughing, he pulls out of me, and I miss the feeling instantly.

  I wonder if I’ll always feel that way when he leaves me.

  Will I ever be the same after we’re done doing whatever it is we’re doing? Am I going to be able to walk away from this—from him—when it’s all over?

  No feelings, no feelings, no feelings.

  If I say it enough times, I’ll believe it.

  Winston adjusts us until I’m on my knees and he’s behind me, sliding back in like he was made to fit me.

  Then he fucks me.

  Hard.

  So hard my knees aren’t the only place I’ll be feeling it tomorrow.

  His fingers play against my clit as he pounds into me, and I fall apart around him.

  He falls seconds behind me, bucking into me roughly until his thrusts steadily subside and he falls forward against me.

  “Is it always going to feel this good?” he says, voice scratchy and exhausted.

  I hope so.

  Slice Sixteen

  Winston

  There are very few things I’m certain about in this life.

  The St. Louis Blues are the greatest hockey team there ever was.

  Slayer is the ultimate metal band.

  I was born to wield a camera in my hands.

  And I am steadily falling in love with Drew Woods.

  It’s not just the sex, though it’s easily the best I’ve ever had. It’s more than that.

  It’s the way she takes care of her son and everyone else around her…before herself. Her resilience. Her tenacity. The smartass comments. Her self-reliance.

  Her really great rack.

  Drew is the perfect package.

  Last week when we had the house to ourselves and we fucked on the patio, I thought for sure I was going to spill my feelings all over the damn place like a fool when she asked me what we were doing. Somehow, I reined them in and was able to shift the conversation more toward a topic she’d understand—sex.

  I’m not ready to tell her, and she’s not ready to hear it.

  We’re walking a careful line right now, and neither of us are ready to step over it.

  “Are you ready yet?”

  “Just a few more minutes…”

  I look down at Riker, who is already strapped into his car seat. “Your mother is the slowest human on the planet.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Drew says from the bathroom where I guess she’s still working on her makeup.

  “Well, color me shocked, because I told you to be ready at five and it’s now”—I
check my cell phone—“five fifteen. We’re gonna miss all the fun stuff.”

  “We are not. Quit being a baby. Just give me two more minutes.”

  Today is the first time we’ve had the same day off since the night on the back deck. I’ve upped my hours to full-time, trying to replenish my savings after paying for Drew’s apartment and car. And, okay, maybe to prove to her I’m not a complete waste of space.

  But my new full-time status is nothing compared to what Drew’s been doing.

  The crazy girl has been picking up at least three doubles a week on top of her full-time schedule because my father’s finally letting her in the kitchen.

  She’s just on basic prep in the mornings and waiting tables in the afternoons, but prep is still the kitchen.

  You’d think working so much and doing the mom thing in the evenings would be killing her, but it’s done the opposite.

  The only other time she’s so alive and lit up is when I’m making her come, which I’ve been doing plenty often since we’ve been…well, whatever it is we’re doing.

  The bathroom door finally creaks open, and the moment she steps out, my dick springs to life.

  On any given day, Drew Woods looks hot.

  But tonight? She looks downright edible.

  The bright red romper she’s wearing makes her legs look a mile long. It makes me want to feel them around my waist again.

  “See something you like, Winston?” she asks, lip between her teeth, round brown eyes peeking at me through her long, dark lashes.

  “Fuck yeah I do. Come here.”

  She struts over to me, tucking herself between my spread legs.

  I run my hands up the backs of her thighs, right under the short one-piece she’s wearing, cupping her ass in my hands.

  “You sure you don’t want to just stay in tonight? I can think of a million things we could do that are going to be just as fun as the Fall Festival.”

  She giggles, her hands crashing into my hair, playing with the strands. “Weren’t you the one just rushing me, all excited about going out?”