by L. B. Dunbar
14
Rainy day games
[Lily]
After breakfast, I clean up, and Brut sits on the couch. He wanted to help, but I told him, “The cook never cleans.”
He’s reading when I join him on the couch, and that’s when I notice his glasses. Dark rimmed and resting on his nose, Brut takes on a studious look. Hot, naughty professor, I decide, and I want to raise my hand to volunteer to learn something. Instead, I take a deep breath and reach for my book on the tray near my forgotten mug of tea. Although I open the pages, I’m staring at the words, imagining myself straddling Brut’s lap while he’s wearing only his specs. Yes, professor, I say as I ride him. Is this how I earn an A?
When Brut’s hand rests on my thigh, as if he’s read my thoughts, I haven’t read a single word on the page. His fingers lightly stroke over my skin, and the flesh pebbles at the tender touch.
“Cold?” he whispers, and I huff. He shakes his head without looking up at me. “I really wish I knew your sounds.”
I chuckle as I continue to stare at the words blurring on the page, not reading a single letter while his palm squeezes my thigh. We last all of a few minutes before he tosses his book on the tray.
“Let’s play a game.” Under the window to the side of the sliding door, behind the overstuffed chair, is a low shelf with board games. Brut stands and returns with Scrabble. “Up for a word challenge?”
I smile at the possibility. I’d rather play other things, but an official game might cool the jets of my oversensitive imagination. I love word games, and this one is my favorite. Brut removes the tray covering the ottoman and lays out the board. He peers at the inside cover of the box lid before tossing it to the side.
“I suggest we make up our own rules. Dirty word Scrabble.” My head shoots up to look at him as he settles himself on the floor. With one knee raised and bent, his arm perching over it, he’s the epitome of casual with his suggestion. I, on the other hand, want to skip the mind challenge and do something physical…and dirty. Instead, I swallow, ignoring the deep flutter in my lower abdomen. Hold it together, I warn.
“So, what are the rules?” I ask, spreading the wooden tiles within the bottom of the box, then flipping them so the letters are hidden.
“It’s going to be hard,” he exaggerates. “But come up with words related to sex. We each take ten or twelve tiles at a time and see what we can spell from them. Squares on the board remain the same for points. Person with the highest score wins.”
I swallow again as his eyes narrow in a teasing squint.
“And what do we have for the winner, Brut?” I throw my voice like a cheesy game show host, and Brut bursts into laughter. He bends at the waist before recovering.
“Don’t quit the day job, sugar.” The endearment warms my insides, and the fluttering turns to flight. A pulse beats between my thighs at the carefree laughter of this man, and I want to tackle him to the floor, sucking in his sound as he’s always referencing mine. “But actually, let’s wager…” He taps his chin. “Sexual favors.”
Forget the flock of flapping birds or the thumping beat. I may have just had a mini-orgasm at the thought combined with the hot stare he’s giving me.
“Winner takes all,” I suggest, trying to keep my voice steady. I don’t think there’s going to be a loser in this game.
“Winner’s choice,” Brut clarifies. “I’ll go first.”
+ + +
The game ends when Brut places the last tiles on the board. M-E.
“How is that a dirty word?” I laugh. Brut has clearly won the game. He’s quick to rearrange the tiles while I’ve been struggling the entire time to come up with combinations, especially as each word he places on the board has me distracted with other thoughts.
“Me. I’m dirty because of all the things I plan to do to you.” His rugged, raspy tone pushes me over the edge. If he doesn’t kiss me, or touch me, or something, I’m going to combust.
“You’re the winner,” I say without needing to tally the score. “What would you like to win?” I don’t recognize my own voice as it drops.
Brut stands slowly and steps to the couch where I sit. His eyes dance as he peers down at me.
“You’re my prize, Lily pad. Lie back.” I do as he says, swallowing the dryness in my throat. I’m already so wound up, and his low commanding tone has me on the dangerous edge of imploding before he even touches me. I wiggle to settle on the cushions, and Brut watches me a minute before he tugs the cushions from the back of the couch and tosses them behind it. He climbs between my legs, forcing me to spread for him. His gaze holds on my body, and I feel self-conscious, but I also feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before. He wants me, really wants me, and I want to please him.
His fingers reach for the hem of my cami, and he briskly pushes it upward, exposing my breasts. Both hands cover the roundness, palming the heaviness. He pinches my nipples at the same time, and moisture pools between my thighs. I’m going to have a problem too quickly if he does it again.
“You have great tits, sugar.” His eyes admire them as he tugs the cami the remainder of the way up my body and over my head. He lays it on the back of the couch and returns his attention to my exposed body. My hips roll upward with thoughts of their own. My core wants at the length straining behind the flimsy material of his shorts. He tsks me. “Patience, Lily pad.”
I receive my own strip tease as he tugs his tee upward by the hem and takes his time to drag it up his body. With arms stretched over his head, I take in the full view of each book-stacked ab, his lightly salted chest, and the muscular biceps straining to remove his shirt. He catches me watching him and smiles a crooked grin.
His fingers move to the waistband of my shorts, and he takes his sweet time removing them, letting the material caress my skin as he shimmies them down my legs. His brow hitches when he notices I’m not wearing any underwear. The slow tease continues, heightening my arousal, which can hardly be contained. Sexy scents waft between us, and Brut lowers his head. He inhales near the apex of my legs.
“You smell delicious.” He adds to the torture of his flirty words when he swipes his thumb through my wet folds. “And you’re fucking soaked.”
He’s pleased with this discovery. Spread-eagle in broad daylight, I should be covering myself from his appraising stare, but I don’t feel one bit of shame. Desire burns in his bright eyes, and I want the expression on his face etched into my memory.
“Here’s how we’re going to play, Lily.” He quickly removes his thumb and reaches with his other hand for tiles on the board game. Six cool, wooden squares hit my stomach. I stretch to read the word, and they slip.
“Uh-uh-uh…no moving. That’s the challenge for you or else you don’t win.”
“I already lost,” I snark, my voice sharp as I grow frustrated. Where’s his thumb?
He replaces the tiles across my belly as he speaks. “Let’s see if you still think you lost when I’m done.” The threat in his tease forces me to stare up at the ceiling. Taking a slow breath to calm myself, I will myself not to move. The challenge is real because I want to rub against him.
“What does it say?” My voice croaks as I ask.
“Sample.” We argued over the word as we played. He said it wasn’t sexy, but when I rolled the word over my tongue in a sentence—I want to sample you—his pupils dilated. He understood sample could be very seductive. A finger outlines the cupcake at my hip, and I shiver, then hold my breath, hoping not to dislodge the tiles on my stomach. As I’m thinking about the possibility of his fingers, his thumb brushes over my clit again. I clench, willing myself not to chase his finger, and realize holding still heightens the euphoria. Damn it, if I get any higher, I’m going to take flight.
“Let’s see how sexy the word really is.” I don’t dare move my head for fear the wooden chips will shift. His firm hands spread my thighs, and then warmth hits my center. I don’t flinch as his tongue laps over my clit, but it takes all my strength to remain st
ill.
“Brut,” I warn already. “I’m so close.”
He smiles against my tight skin before his tongue hits me again, spreading through sensitive folds. He swirls and sucks, and I struggle not to move. My fingers curl into fists, holding back from reaching for his head. He bobs and sways, plunging into me with the strong muscle, and I explode, screaming his name. The tiles slip, but I slap a hand over them, holding them against my belly so he won’t stop.
“Don’t stop. Please.” My back itches to curl, and my thighs quiver to close around his head, but I follow his demand and stay as still as I can. I’m coming so hard stars dance across the ceiling. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, and I feel myself building again.
“Brut, I…” I can’t get out the words. Letters won’t join to form words. The only joining I want is him and me.
He must sense where I’m going because he removes his mouth too quickly. After he leans to his left, I roll my head to find his forearm swiping the game board to the floor, scattering the tiles in all directions. Brut wraps his arm under my back and hoists me upward. My hands find his shoulders for stability. The concentration on Brut’s face remains intense as he removes me from the couch and tosses a blanket on the floor near the ottoman.
“Say yes, Lily pad,” he pleads, and I hum my approval although I have no idea what I’m agreeing to. He twists me away from him and gently folds me to my knees, pressing between my shoulder blades so I lay on my front over the ottoman. My breasts hit the cool fabric and pebble harder, if that’s even possible. The sharp scrape of the material reminds me how turned on I am. I hold still a second, hearing Brut shuffle with his shorts behind me. Then he slaps my ass and rams into me.
“Brut,” I scream as I come the second he enters me. I reach forward for the edge of the ottoman cushion as he grips my hips and fills me repeatedly. Back and forth, he races as my channel clenches at him, fighting the challenge to keep him contained as I release a second time more intensely than the first. I’m lightheaded, but his hammering continues, and I curl back, encouraging him to take what he needs from me.
“Give it to me,” I taunt, and he stills, jetting off inside me and filling me with his seed. His fingers dig into my hips as he pumps. I should be concerned. This is risky business even if I am over forty but getting pregnant is the furthest thing from my mind. Pure, unadulterated pleasure courses through my body, flooding my system. I collapse on the ottoman as Brut falls over me.
“Lily, I…” His breath catches, and I’m left to fill in the blanks and form my own words to follow his lead.
I never want to live without you.
I only ever want it to be you.
I’ve always loved you.
I’m projecting my own thoughts onto him as he takes deep breaths behind me. Exhausted from the exertion, he rests a few minutes, still inside me, and I find I’m up for the challenge he presented earlier. I never want to move from this position.
15
Fun and games and dancing in the rain
[Brut]
I slip out of her and use the blanket to wipe up the mess. I came more than I ever have before, and combined with her soaked pussy, we’ve made a huge mess.
“Don’t move,” I say, and she whimpers as if moving is the last thing she wants to do. I worry I’ve hurt her with my roughness, but the smile on her face alleviates my concern. Kissing her cheek, I stand for another blanket on the arm of the overstuffed chair. Returning, I scoop her up and drag her to the couch, laying us both on our sides to spoon under the light cover. We remain naked, and while I’m spent, my body enjoys the heat of her skin.
“Sleepy?” I ask, but I know she is. However, I’m wound up. The orgasm should have taken everything out of me, but my body won’t settle. I wrap my arms around Lily and hold her tightly against me. Words form phrases, and I will her to read them, like osmosis, as I press my forehead to the back of her head.
I never want to let you go.
Promise you won’t leave me.
I love you, Lily. Always have.
“I can hear you thinking,” she teases, and I start at the possibility. When I chuckle, she adds, “I like your laugh.”
The compliment warms my cheeks. I’m not used to receiving them, and I press a kiss to her nape in response. Her fingers tickle up and down my forearm, and I find the touch soothing, relaxing even.
“My mother used to do this when I couldn’t sleep.” It takes me a second to process she means the light touch.
“You haven’t mentioned your parents. How are they?” I ask. I remember her not having a great relationship with them, and I’m surprised at this seemingly pleasant memory.
“I don’t have much to say.” Her voice remains soft. “They moved to Texas. We don’t talk. We weren’t really your typical family.”
“Whose family is?” I chuckle lightly. “I had Pop, Hank, and Chopper. A clan of men, one more stubborn than the next.”
“I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.” Pop died when Chopper was five, leaving me under thirty, a single father, and a businessowner. I wasn’t any more ahead at forty-five than I’d been at twenty-four when Chopper arrived. I exhale with the thought.
“I really wish I knew your sounds,” Lily mocks, and I nip at her neck. She squeaks and then asks, “What was that for?”
“Being a smartass.”
“I think you like my ass.” Her playful voice makes me grin. To emphasize her point, she pushes said ass back at me.
“I do, especially when it’s aimed at me, but behave.”
“You’re no fun,” she jokes, but the comment strikes a chord.
“Am I…no fun?” Lily twists at the seriousness in my question. I don’t let her fully spin, so she looks at me over her shoulder.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Hank and Midge sent me on this vacation to have fun, and Midge asked me if I remembered how to have it…as if I didn’t have fun anymore.”
“Do you?” she asks. “What do you do that makes you happy?” I have to think about it and find no immediate answers. I work. For years, I looked after Pop, the business, Hank, and Chopper. With Pop gone, Hank solidly on his own feet, and Chopper itching to leave the house, the business is the only thing left for me. The garage isn’t fun.
“I don’t know.” And that’s the truth. I don’t know what would make me happy, or be exciting, or even just pleasant for a day.
“What about surfing?” Lily asks as if reading my mind again.
“Okay, there’s that, but I hardly get to do it.”
“What about spending time with Chopper?” Something in her voice hesitates, and I shake my head behind her.
“He’s getting too old to be with his old man.” The thought makes me sad. I don’t often consider how much I enjoy my son until he isn’t present, and lately, he’s been very absent, taking classes and trying to find his way in the world.
“What about…?” When the pause lasts too long, I sense she’s changed her mind about asking what’s next on her list.
“Ask,” I tease.
“What about playing Scrabble?” I only take a second to consider it before a smile breaks on my face.
“Yeah, Lily. That was fun.” Her shoulders relax, and I press a quick kiss to her there. I recall teaching her how to surf, swiping batter on her chest, and the sex we’ve had. “I think being here with you has been the most fun I’ve had in years. Possibly ever.” I hold my breath after I speak, afraid I’ve said too much.
“Me too,” she whispers, raising my hand to her lips and kissing my knuckles. I snuggle into her, knowing I’ll never get her close enough. “Maybe we can play again.”
The suggestion makes me chuckle. “I’d love to play with you anytime, Lily.”
And I would. Board games. Sex games. I’m willing to participate in anything with her as long as I feel like I do at this moment. Being with Lily is…fun.
+ + +
We sleep with the sound of rain peppering the back
deck. The gray day keeps the room dim as we cuddle on the couch. We remain naked, and when I wake, I run my hand over the outline of her body. She isn’t overly curvy as much as her body is firm. She takes care of herself, and I appreciate the work she’s done to stay fit. Her breasts are large for her size and fill my hands, which means they’re plenty big. My mouth waters to be filled with them.
But there’s more than just her body.
I’ve heard my brother say “I more you” to his wife. It’s a secret code between them, yet I suddenly know what it means. I want more of Lily. Her body. Her heart. Her soul.
She shivers under my stroking. “That tickles,” she says in a groggy voice. Another sound I want to hear every day.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay. I need to pee.” She groans as she stretches upward. “That might have been too much information.”
“Maybe.” I laugh as I move the arm she slept on and squeeze my fist to get the blood flowing again. I watch Lily’s backside as she stands and then she reaches for my T-shirt on the floor. Covering herself in my clothing, I stare as she rakes her fingers through her chin-length hair.
“You’re so beautiful, Lily.” The words tumble out, and I like the crook of her lips as she looks back at me.
“So are you.” Her smile widens, and she steps out of my view for the bathroom. When she returns, she sits on the ottoman facing me. The blanket rests low on my hips but doesn’t contain the stiffy growing the longer she looks at me like she is. This. This is the look I want. Longing. Yearning. Maybe loving.
“What’s on your bucket list, Brut?”
“My bucket list?” I scoff.
“You know, your list of things you want to accomplish in life. More than a list of fun, but things you want to achieve. Maybe things that would be fun to achieve.”
“I guess I haven’t thought about it,” I lie, rubbing a hand over my hair as I lie on my back. I’m sure it’s standing up, but I don’t care. I feel Lily watching me as I stare up at the ceiling. “I wanted to be a teacher.”
