My Kinda Night (Summer Sisters Book 2)

by Lacey Black

  “Holy shit, that feels so good,” she groans as I move to show the second one the same attention as the first.

  “I love the way you taste. I could lick and suck on you all day.”

  Reaching behind her, I push aside all of the crap on my desk. My stapler, computer mouse, tape dispenser, and penholder go flying, landing somewhere behind my desk. I lay her back, taking in the absolute breathtaking view of a half-dressed Payton splayed across my desk top.

  “Damn, you are fucking spectacular like this.” Her chest rises and falls quickly and my hands tingle to touch her.

  Keeping my eyes focused on hers, I reach down and pop the snap on her workpants. They’re soft and khaki, and even though they look fabulous on her ass, they’ll look even better thrown on my office floor. She helps lift her ass as I shimmy the pants down her legs. Jesus, her legs. They’re mile-long and smooth as fucking silk. I want to lick and taste every square inch.

  When her pants are gone, I quickly dispose of the light blue boy-cut cotton panties. There’s no missing the dark wetness on the light material as I slide them down her legs. My already rock-hard cock is pretty much steel at this point; I’m so aroused that if she were to touch me, it all might be over with.

  Now that I’ve gotten rid of those pesky clothes, I gaze down at her naked body. That little lilac tattoo, the one I love, is staring up at me, begging for me to lick it. So I do. I start at her belly button and work my way out to the purple and black ink, dragging my tongue along the delicate skin, swirling it over my favorite tattoo in the world. Payton writhes and moves beneath me, breathing hard in little pants.

  Up next, I draw my tongue southward, heading straight to my favorite place to taste. I’m assaulted by the scent of her arousal, her wetness glistening along her sweet pussy. At first taste, my body almost erupts in my pants. She’s delicious and mouthwatering, and fuck, if I don’t crave her more than before.

  I take my time, gently sliding my tongue along the seam of her. She groans loud enough to be heard in the lower level. Thank God it’s after hours and we’re locked in here. I flick my tongue across her swollen clit, working her closer and closer to an orgasm. Payton’s always been the most responsive woman I’ve been with. No one has ever made me feel like King of the World the way she does every time we’re together.

  Perching her legs on my shoulders, I work her over with my mouth. I can feel her legs tensing, tightening around my neck. Using my two fingers, I move her lips apart and slide my tongue inside of her tightness. She’s grinding against my face, riding my tongue like it’s a prized bull at the rodeo. Only, I want to ride her longer than eight seconds. I can feel her internal muscles tightening around my tongue, and I know she’s getting close.

  “I want to feel you come on my tongue,” I tell her before diving back in. Her only response is a loud groan.

  Licking, sucking, fucking her with my tongue, it’s enough to push her over the edge. Her orgasm rips through her body, her back arching up off my desk. It’s a true sight to behold, one I’ll never forget. The way she shudders beneath my hands, her juices coating my tongue and lips. Best. Feeling. Ever.

  “I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart,” I say as I stand up, unbuttoning my dress shirt as I go.

  Loosening my tie, I slide the knotted silk over my head and drop it on the floor. My shirt and undershirt follow quickly. My cock is hard and heavy in my boxers, all but ready to come out and play. Payton’s limp on my desk, but the moment my hands start to unbutton my pants, her eyes are wide and filling with desire once more. She’s always had a minimum of two orgasms when we’ve been together. Never less. When you’re a single father, you learn to appreciate the time you get with a naked woman, and I’ve become accustomed to pleasuring Payton. I don’t care how long it takes, always at least two.

  But our chemistry is so combustible, two, with her, is easy.

  She whimpers as I drop my pants, boxers sliding down my legs with them. My body is aching with need for her, the tip of my cock wet with my own desire. I know what she wants, so I reach down and grab my shaft at the base. I’ve been blessed with a cock most men would kill for, but I’ve never been arrogant or conceited with it.

  Until her.

  Payton parts her legs further as her eyes watch me stroke myself. My body is so tight with want I’m afraid I just won’t last, so I squeeze my dick tightly, pain spreading through my groin. My desire abates, but only temporary. I know the closer I get to sliding inside her ready body, the greater my need will grow.

  “Tell me what you want, Payton,” I say, low and husky.

  “You. I need you.”

  I grab my wallet from my pants before stepping between her spread legs. Before Payton, I was more on the shy side. I didn’t have a lot of experience to help build my confidence and prowess. I’m a geek to the core, a nerd who never partied or had girls falling all over him, and my sexual conquests before her is a number still reached by counting on one hand.

  And then I met Payton.

  Everyone before her faded, every time with her brand new. She calls to me like a siren, singing to my soul in a way no one has ever spoken before. Suddenly, I’m saying things I’d never say and doing things I’d never do. All because it excites her, and me.

  So as I step between her thighs, I rip off the condom wrapper with my teeth and stroke myself once more. Another bead of liquid seeps from the tip of my cock. Before I slide on the condom, I find myself running my finger through the moisture. Her eyes widen with desire, dilated so darkly that I can’t tell what the color of her beautiful eyes should originally be.

  Her tongue slips out of her mouth and runs along her bottom lip, and instantly I know what I need to do. Stepping forward until my dick is nestled against her wet pussy, I slip my finger into her mouth. Her warm tongue instantly swipes along the pad of my finger, licking off the pre-cum. I groan as she licks me clean.

  With a pop, I pull my finger from the warm recesses of her mouth and grab the condom. My hands have a slight tremble as I sheath my dick in the latex. I line myself up at her entrance, eager to slide home, but I hold back.

  “Please,” she begs, that one word never before sweeter.

  Taking my dick in my hand once more, I slide it through the wetness of her pussy. “What do you want?”

  “You know,” she pants, moving her hips as if to entice me.

  “I do know. I want to hear you say it.” I fight to keep myself from giving in just yet.

  “I need you to fuck me.”

  Her words are gasoline to an already burning fire. Without preamble, I flex my hips forward, burying half my dick inside of her warm pussy. She gasps as she stretches around me. Carefully, I pull back and inch forward slowly, giving her time to adjust to my size. It doesn’t take her long until she’s wiggling, moving in sync with my body.

  Sex has never been like this before, at least not to the extent of how crazy-good it is with Payton. The way her body moves, like she’s evoking every ounce of pleasure she can get from me. And damn, does she induce an insane amount of pleasure. Tidal waves of bliss course through my body, alive and unrestricted.

  Lying on my desk, she’s a vision I’m sure to never forget. I can’t help but watch the gentle slide of my body into hers, the way her back arches off the polished wood with each thrust. She runs her nails down my arms, gripping my wrists for leverage. Her touch fuels the need to come racing through my body.

  My hips piston on their own, desire driving me past the point of control. Her eyes are wild as she moans with each thrust, each noise the sweetest melody I’ve ever heard. I grip her hips, thrusting inside the tightness of her body. She’s so wet that I can feel her juices dripping off the underside of my balls.

  “Payton,” I whisper hoarsely, a plea for mercy.

  “Feels so good. So, so good.” Her words are broken, panting as she struggles to breathe.

  “You feel so damn amazing,” I tell her between thrusts. “Being inside you is fucking heaven.”


  She lifts her hips, changing up the angle ever so slightly. My eyes practically cross from the gratification of the moment. The familiar tingle starts in the base of my spine, and I know the end is near. As much as I try to hold off, I’m just not able to turn back now.

  It’s as if she senses my impending release. Payton lifts her hips as I slam into her, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her. She shivers as I pull out and crash into her once more, rolling my hips to maximize impact. On the third thrust, she detonates like a bomb beneath me. Goose bumps pepper her naked skin as her eyes close. My name seeps from her lips as a beautiful smile lights up her face.

  The image of pure bliss sends me over the edge. My balls practically explode as I release myself into the confines of the rubber, repeating her name over and over. My body continues to draw out every ounce of pleasure it can, the internal muscles of her pussy milking my cock. Yet, I’m unable to stop moving.

  Aftershocks sweep through my body moments before exhaustion. I practically collapse on top of her, her wet skin molding to mine. Her hands slide softly through my hair, her heart practically beating through her chest beneath my cheek. I can’t help but close my eyes and savor the feel, the scent, and the taste of her against me. I’ll hold her close until reality steps in, reminding us both of why we can’t be together.

  Running my hands up and down her arms, I savor the softness of her skin. I’m sure I’m crushing her, but neither of us makes an attempt to move. It’s as if we’re both ignoring the inevitable and just enjoying our time together, for however long we’ve got.

  I can tell the moment reality sets in. Payton tenses beneath my touch. Exhaling deeply, I slowly stand up, pulling out of her body as I go. I grab the box of Kleenex behind my desk and hand her a few. Then I take some for myself, removing the condom and cleaning up the mess before disposing of it all in the trash.

  By the time I’m finished cleaning up, she’s halfway dressed. Neither of us speaks, nor makes eye contact as we dress. I wouldn’t even know what to say anyway. Too quickly, I’m standing there in my pants, undershirt, and button-down hanging open. She’s completely dressed and sliding on her flats. When she stands to her full height, it takes everything I have inside me to not close the distance between us and take her in my arms. My body burns for her, but the consequences of a relationship mixed with business keep me rooted in place.

  Her eyes scan over me, stopping and staring at my open shirt. I wonder if she’s going to ask me for this one too, like she did that first night together. Not that she really asked, but she was wearing that shirt–open of course–as we slept in her bed, our bodies touching and intertwined as much as humanly possible. If she asks, I’d gladly give this one to her too.

  When her eyes finally land on my face, sorrow fills them. I can see her struggling with what we’ve done–again. It pains me even more that she’s so torn. The last thing I’d want is for her to regret our time together; lord knows I haven’t in the least. I want her to look back and smile and remember how dynamic and explosive we were in bed (and out of it).

  Unable to resist the invisible pull I have towards her, I close the distance and stand before her. Softly, I run my thumb down her jaw before cupping her cheek in my hand.

  “Why can’t I stay away from you?” she whispers, her eyes shining with what could possibly be tears.

  “I’m pretty irresistible,” I reply, trying to keep it light.

  She chuckles. “You are.”

  Together, we each take a deep breath as she turns and kisses my palm. “Nothing’s changed.” I say the words to myself as much as to her.

  “I know.” I can feel the regret pouring from her.

  “I wish it were different,” I say, pulling her into my arms and kissing her lips.

  “Me too. I’d pick you if I could.”

  “I’d pick you too.” And I would.

  There’s something astonishing and wonderful about Payton Summer, and it pains me that I’ll never know the true extent of her amazingness. Someday soon, she’ll meet someone and he’ll never let her go. He’ll realize the gift he has and cherish it for the rest of his life. He’ll be the luckiest son of a bitch in the universe.

  Damn, I wish I could be that man.

  As she kisses me back, there’s resolve in her touch. It’s something I’ve become familiar with in the last few months. Every time we’re together, we both vow that it’ll be our last. Yet something jerks us together, like an invisible string pulling us back towards each other.

  My heartbeat speeds up as she walks towards my office door. I had the forethought to lock it when we entered my space, not because I expected to screw her on my desk, but because I wanted to ensure no one interrupted our time together. Even if it would have remained completely professional, I treasure any solitary moments I can steal with her.

  “Goodbye, Dean.” Her words drip with melancholy, her eyes matching. It takes everything I have not to go to her and take her in my arms. I yearn to throw every rule in the rulebook out the fucking window.

  But I can’t.

  Instead of speaking the words I long to say, I go with the right ones. “Goodbye, Payton.”

  Chapter Seven

  Payton

  My legs are shaky as I make my way from my car to my house. I feel like I just completed a marathon, all rubbery limbs and uneven breathing. I know walking away from Dean was the right thing to do, but why does it always feel like my dog died all over again every time I turn around and he’s not there.

  I can’t justify a relationship with him, or anyone else, when it won’t end the way I want it to. Because it will end. Why get involved with someone, potentially falling in love with him, only to have it end a short time later? Who would willingly subject themselves to that kinda torture? As soon as he finds out about my secret, he’ll be gone.

  They always are.

  After unlocking my door, I let myself in, setting my computer bag and purse down on the table. The light is on above the sink, just the way I left it when I headed in to work this morning. It’s a subtle reminder of my independent state. No one comes or goes but me, no one leaves their dirty clothes on the floor but me, and no one pays the bills but me. It’s quiet, just the way I like it.

  Until the silence takes over.

  Turning around, I scream when a shadow falls on the kitchen floor.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” AJ says, her hands covering her heart.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, willing my heart rate to drop from stroke level.

  “I stopped by to say hello, but you weren’t home yet. I let myself in.” Figures. “Where have you been? Working late?”

  My cheeks blush involuntarily. “Yes.” The one word comes out a croak. I’m sure she’ll see right through my lie.

  Her eyes turn all squinty as she stares, reading me like one of those romance novels she’s always raving about. I keep my eyes trained on her, fighting the urge to shy away from the scrutiny. Finally, her eyebrows shoot into her bangs. Damn her and her Summer detective skills.

  “Why do you smell like cologne?” She steps into my personal space and takes a giant, overly dramatic whiff around my neck.

  “I…what are you…that’s not…what?”

  “You smell like a man.” She steps back in and takes another whiff. “A very nice man.”

  I turn around and grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with tap water, greedily chugging half the glass. “Must have been from one of my customers. I had a male customer in the store right when I closed,” I answer, averting my gaze.

  “And what about that whisker burn on your neck? Did that customer fall into you with his face before he left?” My hand instantly wraps around my neck, rubbing against the sensitive skin. I feel the flames burn beneath my hands, realizing that she’s right.

  Turning and straightening my resolve, I say, “Maybe he did. Maybe he tripped and rubbed his stubbled jaw against my neck. You know, I could have caught him, saved him fr
om falling completely down and injuring himself.”

  “You’re a regular Florence Nightingale. I’m sure he’s at home right now, handwriting his thank you card for saving him the insurance deductible.”

  I laugh at her sarcasm, which she responses with her own smile. “So?”

  Exhaling, I grab my water and walk into the living room. I don’t have to look around to know she’s following me. Taking my seat on the couch, I fold my legs beneath me and get comfy. I let out a long, deep breath before I speak. “There’s this guy,” I start.

  “Of course there is,” she quips.

  I offer her a quick smirk. “He’s…well, he’s kinda great. We have this killer chemistry, and frankly, the sex is amazing.” We both laugh. “Like hitting a Grand Slam in game seven of the World Series amazing.”

  “God, when was the last time I had World Series sex?” she says absently, almost as if saying it to herself.

  “I can’t answer that, but I can tell you that if you have to ask that question, it’s probably been a long time.”

  “If ever,” she mumbles, taking a drink of her own glass she helped herself to. “So,” she adds before clearing her throat, “if he’s so great, why are you here and not with him getting whisker burn on other parts of your body?”

  I clench my thighs together at the thought of Dean’s stubble dragging along the sensitive skin between my legs. My sister stares at me, waiting for me to continue. I exhale deeply. “It’s really complicated. I’m not really looking for a relationship, and he’s kinda in the same boat. It could never go anywhere, so why try?”

  AJ looks at me like she doesn’t understand anything I just said. “Wait, what? First off, why wouldn’t either of you be interested in a relationship, and second, why wouldn’t it go anywhere? You’re amazing and anyone would be lucky to have you.”

  My heart beats wildly and I smile automatically at her compliment. “Thank you. It’s just…complicated, AJ.”