I let go of the edge of the counter and began to pump my erection, the orgasm building already.
Joel grunted and then growled between licks. “That’s it, Andrew. Work yourself.” Another lick. “Tell me before you come. I want it.” Then his hand left my balls, and he stretched me open, tongue fucking me as deep as he could go.
I rocked against his face, jacking myself off, feeling the burn of the orgasm build as his wet tongue shoved deep, his rough beard scraping the skin of my ass.
“Fuck, Joel, I’m going to come; I’m going to come.”
He gripped my hips and forced me around so quickly I almost slipped with my sweats restricting the movement around my knees. Joel shoved me back against the counter as he smacked my hand from my dick and engulfed it with his mouth and began to suck me off.
As much as I wanted this to last, it was less than ten seconds before I was crying out again, giving him warning in case I’d misunderstood. “Joel, I’m coming. You’d better—” It was too late. My orgasm surged through me, setting my cock on fire.
Joel let out a sound between a grunt and growl as I came, the vibration heaven against my dick, and he pumped harder, taking me in as deep as he could.
I stared down at the hottest sight I’d ever seen. The most gorgeous man I’d ever been with, on his knees, taking every surge of my come down his throat, sounding just as desperate for it as I’d been for his tongue in my ass. I reached down, gripped his hair, and held him as I fucked the last bit of my load into him, his fingers digging painfully into my hips once more.
Just as my orgasm started to fade, Joel pulled off my cock and stood. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” I thought he was going to kiss me, but he bent to pick something up off the floor. A condom. “Turn around.”
I did. Holy fuck, I did. Turned around, braced myself, and arched my ass toward him, not giving a shit if I looked like the most desperate comewhore in the world.
He smacked my ass, once, just as he had before. “That’s my man.” He paused and slid on the condom. He didn’t use lube, having already gotten me prepared with his tongue. He lined himself up, gripped my hips again, and shoved in.
My cry was louder this time. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I figured my neighbors could hear. I didn’t fucking care. He was too much. Too thick, too sudden, not enough lubrication, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. He held on tight and fucked and fucked and fucked.
“You love me using your sweet ass, don’t you?” His words were barely more than growls, but he was right.
I did. I arched even farther, and he nearly howled in triumph. “That’s it! Take your man.”
His pounding increased. The smacking of our skin mixing with the grunts, growls, and panting filled the kitchen.
Then he cried out his release, the rhythm of his thrusts stumbling. Shoving deep, holding still, and then thrusting again and again, as he came.
I closed my eyes and wished the condom were gone. That he really was emptying into me. Pouring himself into my body. Owning me while making us one.
A final shudder and his hands left my hips and crashed down beside mine on the counter, steadying himself. His chest and stomach, slick with sweat, heaved against my back.
We stood there, trembling and locked together for a few more moments. Eventually, he kissed my ear again and then whispered, “Was that part included in that cookbook of yours?”
Twelve
Joel
The smell of coffee wafted into my dreams, waking me up with a comforting slowness. I stretched, keeping my eyes closed, not wanting to lose the moment. The warmth of the bed, the memories of last night, in the kitchen, on the couch during a movie, in this bed. I breathed deep, the smell of the coffee mingling with Andrew’s scent on the sheets.
Look at that. I’d thought my favorite smell was vanilla spice. I’d been so, so wrong.
There was a buzz then a vibrating sound.
Fuck.
I opened my eyes, the peace of the moment already fading. The other side of the bed was empty, and I felt a little lurch in my gut.
Of course, moron. The smell of coffee didn’t happen on its own. Still, I stretched out my hand and touched the place where Andrew had curled against me all night. Still warm. Barely, but it was there. In true crazy-man fashion, I started to roll closer to the spot, breathe him in deeper, and then the vibrating began again.
And again—fuck was the only response to that. Better to just get it over with. Rolling the other way, I snagged my cell off the bedside table.
Three missed calls.
And now my father had turned to texting. Which he hated.
This is unacceptable, Joel. Get the paperwork signed and get your ass home.
Your ass. Wow, even at his most furious, Dad typically stayed business-tycoon appropriate.
He woke me on my last full day with Andrew and before I had coffee. It was like he wanted me not to play nice.
As I told you last night, it’s the weekend. Things are different here. Slower. It will happen tomorrow.
There was a long pause before he responded. I could see him staring at his phone, seething. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that part of me nearly texted him back, apologizing and promising to make sure the paperwork magically got filed on a Sunday. Soft clanging of dishes or silverware drifted in from the kitchen, reminding me that the last thing I wanted was to cut our final day short.
Another buzz.
I’m beginning to question if you are as prepared for the leadership role as I thought. Comfort Coffee needs to be in the hands of someone capable and committed.
Fuck you.
I barely caught myself before I hit Send. I erased it and typed again.
My commitment is obvious. The paperwork will be signed tomorrow, and we can start on Comfort Coffee as early as next week. My cell will be off for the rest of the day. I will be in contact after the signing.
I hit Send, powered down the phone, collapsed back into the pillow, and focused on my thudding pulse, as it was entirely likely I’d just triggered a stroke or a heart attack.
Tomorrow. I’d see him tomorrow. He could rage at me then. By tomorrow afternoon, I’d be back in San Francisco. At the office. Back to my life. A life that was everything I wanted, or at least was building up to it.
And I dreaded it. The thought of it left me cold and a little terrified. Which didn’t make sense. Why was I terrified?
This was what should terrify me. Lying in Andrew’s bed, wanting to stay. With him, in Lavender Shores. Wanting to throw everything away and just be here, with the smell of whatever subpar coffee was brewing, the scent of his body around me, the sounds of him moving in the kitchen. I wanted to toss my entire life away? For this? For a man I’d known since Thursday night?
Yeah, that should terrify me.
And it did.
Sitting up, I swiped my phone off the side table once more and moved my thumb to the Power button. I could fix this.
Andrew laughed in the kitchen, halting me.
Then a second laugh. I could just picture him. Maybe he’d dropped an egg or was listening to something funny on NPR.
I put the phone back.
One more day. I’d keep my brain turned off, as much as I could, for one more day. I’d enjoy a life I’d never wanted or experienced before. I had the rest of my life to reach the goals I’d worked for endlessly. They would be there waiting when I got back to town the following afternoon. But I was taking one more day for myself. One more day to commit Andrew Kelly to my memory, a fantasy of a different life. A life meant for someone other than me. But for now, for the next twenty-four hours or so, it was a life meant for me, and Andrew Kelly was mine.
Giving in to the impulse, I pulled his pillow to my face and breathed deep. My cock responded instantly.
Throwing off the covers, I got out of bed and headed for the bedroom door, then thought about exactly what I wanted to do to Andrew. I pictured a breakfast encore to the dinner entertainme
nt we’d had the night before. And that required teeth brushing.
My erection didn’t fade as I vanquished my morning breath, my mind planning exactly what I was going to do with his body. By the time I silently pulled open the bedroom door and padded down the hall, my dick was leaking, so urgently ready for him.
I rounded the corner into the kitchen, planning to sneak up behind him as I had the night before, and froze, every synapse of my brain short-circuiting.
Andrew sat at the small table, coffee cup lifted halfway to his lips, his blue eyes wide. Next to him, his father sat in a similar fashion, but his lips curved into a grin.
“Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Rhodes. Looks like you woke up on the right side of the bed.” Robert tipped his coffee mug in my direction in a makeshift salute.
My hands flew to cover my crotch—and by flew, I mean they stayed exactly where they’d been for way too long and then uselessly darted over my balls so quickly that they hit them, causing my erection to jut forward. I literally turned and ran, yelling out over my shoulder, “I’m so sorry. I’ll find clothes.”
Robert called after me. “No need, Joel. Might as well be comfortable.”
“Dad!” I heard a smack and figured Robert would have an Andrew-sized handprint on his arm.
Back in the bedroom, I glanced at the windows. Andrew’s condo was on the third floor. If I jumped, at most I’d break a leg. I could still crawl away.
Andrew walked through the bedroom door and shut it behind him. His eyes were still wide in shock, but I could tell he was making an effort not to laugh.
“If you laugh, I’m killing you.” I started to point at him, but kept my hands covering as much of myself as I could.
He bit his lip and took a deep breath through his nose.
“I’m serious. Dead. You’ll be dead.”
He lost it, his laughter bursting from him loud and a bit unhinged. He laughed as tears began running down his face. And even through the closed bedroom door, I could hear Robert’s laughter joining in. The fucker.
I glared at him. “I hate you.”
Still laughing, he crossed the room and wrapped me in his arms as I tried to squirm away.
“Nope. You don’t get to touch me right now.”
He held me so tight he probably had his hands locked around his wrists. “Oh come on. You can’t present me with that gorgeous monster between your legs and not let me touch.”
Still, I squirmed and did my best to sound angry, though I could feel the laughter starting to build. “Your dad is in the next room. Don’t be gross. You could’ve at least let me know we weren’t alone.”
His laughter slowed to a chuckle. “I was letting you sleep. How was I to know you’d wake up all porn-star ready?” He bit my earlobe. “Although, I suppose you’re always porn-star ready.” He let go of me and took a step back, glancing down. “Things seem to be more manageable.”
I looked at my fading erection. “Well, yeah. I don’t have a daddy fetish.”
Another chuckle. “I’m sorry about that. I never pictured you coming out naked. Although, considering last night, that was an oversight on my part.” He lifted his hands. “In my defense, I texted Dad asking to use their picnic basket later today. I didn’t foresee him bringing it over. But that was probably an oversight as well.”
“You think?”
“You’re about to laugh.”
“No, I’m not.” I folded my arms over my chest; another spike of Robert’s laughter sounded from the kitchen, and I broke.
Andrew and I gave in to fits, until both of us were crying again.
Finally, back under control, Andrew motioned to the door. “You get dressed. I’ll finish getting breakfast ready.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going back out with your father still there.”
He shook his head. “Best to get it over with. You don’t want the next time you see him to be in public. I’m sure you can picture how that would go.”
His words dried up all my laughter. There wouldn’t be another time when I’d see Robert Kelly in public or anywhere else.
Andrew’s brows knitted. “You okay?”
“Oh yeah.” I forced a smile. “Just a new experience. One that I don’t need to repeat.” I motioned for him to keep going. “I’ll be out in a minute. Fully dressed.”
He gave me a concerned look but thankfully didn’t push it and left me alone.
I got my emotions under control, got dressed, and made the walk of shame down the hallway back to the kitchen. To my surprise, Robert smiled at me but refrained from comment, though I could see it in his eyes. I was certain his restraint came due to threats from Andrew.
Eggs, sausage, and sliced grapefruit were already on the table as well as a mug of coffee at the empty place setting next to Andrew. I sat. “This looks amazing. Thank you.”
Robert picked up the bowl of scrambled eggs and passed them to me. “My son is a killer cook. Takes after me.”
I hadn’t realized before, but Robert was in a sleeveless shirt. The man was built. Not as good-looking as Andrew’s mom, but it was easy to see that Andrew came by his physique naturally. I took the eggs and noticed the tattoo on Robert’s left shoulder. I glanced at Andrew. “You and your dad have matching tattoos?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized that I’d indicated I’d seen Andrew shirtless. I chided myself at my embarrassment. I’d just arrived naked in his son’s kitchen sporting wood. Seeing Andrew’s chest meant nothing.
Andrew started to respond, but Robert spoke up first. “Sure do, well, we all have them.”
I finished spooning the eggs onto my plate and handed the bowl to Andrew, while addressing his dad. “You all have them? As in, your family or the entire town?”
He chuckled. “No, not the town. Though I could see Debbra and Patrick making that a requirement to live here.”
An image of Andrew’s mom rose in my mind. Beautiful, classy, a modern-day Emily Post. I gaped at Andrew. “Wait a minute. Your mom has a tattoo?”
“Yep.” He passed the eggs to his dad. “Though hers is on the top of her foot, so it’s easily hidden. Did you not notice Lavender Ink downtown?”
“You know, I did, but didn’t think about it. Although, now that you mention it, a tattoo parlor does feel out of place in Lavender Shores.” Tattoo parlor didn’t seem like the right term. It was unlike any tattoo parlor I’d ever seen. It blended in perfectly with the rest of the fancy little town. It looked more like an art gallery-spa combo.
Andrew smirked. “Well, if it didn’t belong to Connor, I can promise you there wouldn’t be a tattoo place anywhere near Lavender Shores. To this day, I can’t believe Mom, or Patrick for that matter, allowed it.”
Robert scoffed. “Stop that. Give your mother some credit. As much as she worships this town, her family is always the most important thing to her.”
I tried to remember the names of Andrew’s siblings. “Oh, is Connor your brother?”
“No.” Andrew shrugged. “Well, kinda. He’s Gilbert’s brother.” Another shrug. “Kinda.”
“There’s no kinda about it.” Robert leveled a look at me. “It can be complicated. I’ll make it easy. As I’m sure Andrew has told you, the Kellys and the Bryants, who you met at dinner the other night, are two of the founding families of Lavender Shores. Connor was good friends with Gilbert Bryant in school. When he came out, his family”—Robert lowered his voice as he said, “who are not from Lavender Shores nor do they represent all that we stand for here.” He returned to his regular volume—“didn’t respond well at all. Connor moved in with Regina and Patrick and has been one of their sons ever since.”
Even though I’d had limited contact with Regina, such an action seemed completely in character. “Wow. That’s pretty awesome. He’s lucky to have had people like that in his life.”
Robert nodded. “He’s a great kid. Well, not so much a kid anymore, but he’s great.” He lifted the large platter and passed it to me. “Sausage? You’ve sho
wn us yours, so…”
Andrew groaned and covered his face. “Dad. We talked about this.”
Nonplussed, Robert just grinned, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow, though there was a slight flirty edge, Robert managed to make it a friendly, teasing moment and was surprisingly not creepy.
“Well, sir, you’re right about that.” I took the platter and chose three of the links before a thought hit me. “Wait a minute. What did that have to do with the tattoo parlor?”
“Oh right!” Robert took a bite of eggs and spoke with his mouth full. “Connor is a tattoo artist, and as you can imagine, a tattoo shop wasn’t exactly on the approved list of businesses. But there are advantages to being part of a founding family. Connor got to open Lavender Ink, and every member of the Bryant family and we Kellys all got matching tattoos. He pointed to the purple flowers curving to form the left portion of a heart. “Lavender, for the obvious reason”—then ran his finger over the blue wave finishing the heart on the right—“and the shore. But more important than the town, was us demonstrating to Connor that not only was his business welcome here, but he was as much a part of our families as any other of the Bryant and Kelly children.”
“Wow. That’s pretty cool.”
Robert launched into a story about Andrew, Gilbert, and Connor getting into some sort of trouble when they were younger, and I listened, making sure to nod and smile and laugh at appropriate places. But really, my mind was on my cell back in the bedroom, on my father in San Francisco. How different Robert Kelly was. How different the entire Kelly and Bryant clans were. I couldn’t even fathom being part of such a family.
I’d never wanted a tattoo before.
But suddenly, I did.
Thirteen
Andrew
Stormy clouds hung low over the distant horizon, seeming to hover just above the gentle sea, but as we parked in front of Gilbert’s place, the sun poured over us, warming the day to nearly eighty degrees. It was perfect for how I’d hoped the picnic would be.
The Palisade (Lavender Shores) Page 13
