A Real Goode Time

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A Real Goode Time Page 23

by Jasinda Wilder


  “Don’t I know it,” I said.

  And that, for some reason, was when I realized I’d entirely stopped checking in with Leighton and Jillie. They were going to be so mad.

  Later. All of it, later.

  Mom laughed. “So you two crazy kids drove all the way here from New Haven?”

  I nodded. “Almost nonstop, too. Once we started, we just…kept going, trading off when one of us got tired. We only stopped the first night, in…Ohio, I think it was?”

  Rhys nodded. “Just outside Cleveland.”

  Mom shook her head. “That’s crazy. But you’re here, you’re safe, and there’s plenty of time before the wedding to find you a dress.” She looked me up and down. “And, no offense, but a bra.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Oh, don’t start that up, Mom. I brought one. I just don’t like to wear them. But I will for Lexie’s wedding.” I frowned. “Not thrilled at the idea of a dress, though.”

  Mom laughed, glanced at Rhys. “Not sure if you’ve picked up on this, but my dear Victoria is not exactly the type to wear dresses.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve worn a dress exactly twice in my life. And I’ve hated it both times.”

  “I’ve picked up on it, yes.” Rhys grinned. “What were the two times?”

  I winced. “Um. Grandma and Grandpa, Mom’s parents, died within days of each other, when I was…nine? I wore a dress to their joint funeral. And then to…um. To Dad’s funeral.”

  Rhys closed his eyes briefly. “Shit, I should’ve known. I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s okay.” I brightened, with a bit of effort. “I’m glad to be wearing a dress for a happy occasion.”

  “Amen to that,” Mom said, then clapped her hands. “So, kids. Where are you two staying?”

  We glanced at each other.

  “Oh…I…we—” I stammered. “Um.”

  I glanced at Rhys, but he was no help.

  “Um.” I sighed. “I hadn’t thought that far, and Rhys and I are…we’re not…we haven’t quite figured out…”

  Mom’s eyes widened. “Oh, shoot. I guess I assumed the wrong thing, huh?” A pause, as she sorted through the situation. “Well, Rhys, you’re staying for the wedding, yes? You drove all the way here, so you may as well stay. It’s going to be a big old party, and we’d love to have you.”

  He stammered. “I…I…” He glanced at me. “I mean…”

  I was still holding his hand. “He’s staying for the wedding. As for who’s staying where, we’ll have to figure that out.”

  “You’re both welcome to stay here, but if you’re not staying together, then Rhys can hang with Myles and the guys. The week leading up the wedding itself has sort of turned into this weird, crazy bonanza bachelor-bachelorette…thing. The guys hang out by themselves all day, the girls with the girls, and then at night we all get together and just…” she sighed. “Well, you’ll see for yourself. Point is, Rhys, if you’re comfortable getting acquainted with a bunch of loud, vulgar, rough, wild, Alaskan men, then I guarantee you’ll have a great time, and they’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

  “Ma’am,” he drawled, “I grew up in no-name holler in the backwoods of Kentucky. Loud, vulgar, rough, and wild sounds like home to me.”

  She laughed. “You’ll do just fine, in that case.”

  I looked around. “Where is everyone else?”

  “Well, I’m just here for a quick change of clothes. I had a client meeting this morning and then I showed a house we just finished remodeling, and now I’m getting changed and I’m gonna go find the crew.”

  I laughed. “The crew?”

  She shook her head. “Torie, my love, you have no idea what you’re about to be introduced to. We use a lot of words to describe ourselves—crew, tribe, clan, those are the most common. But, in the end, they all mean the same thing—family.” She squeezed my arm, giddy and excited. “And now you’re here! Holy hell, I’m so happy.”

  I blinked in shock. “Mom…you just…swore.”

  She cackled. “Oh my, wait until you meet my Lucas. He’s changed me, and for the better, but if you’re not used to the new me, he can be a bit of a shock to the system.”

  That was an odd statement that I had no way of understanding, so I didn’t bother trying.

  I stepped back and looked Mom over—she’d put on weight, and it suited her, filling out her hips and bust, the way a little extra would on me. She was…lighter, brighter, happier. A spark of joy burned in her eyes, and I realized that for years leading up to Dad’s death, and in the months after, that spark had faded and died. It was back now, and brighter than ever.

  “You look amazing, Mom,” I said.

  She curtsied, which looked funny as she was wearing a power pantsuit. “Thank you, my dear. It’s amazing what healthy eating, an active lifestyle, someone to love you, and a whole hell of a lot of great sex can do for a person.”

  You could have knocked me over with a feather. “MOM!”

  She just cackled. “I told you, baby girl, I’m not the Momma you knew when I left New Haven.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you refer to sex and yourself in the same sentence in my life,” I said, still reeling.

  She patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it. Now, you two just set your bags here while I get changed. There’s a shower in the guest room, if you want to rinse off real quick.

  “God, honestly, a shower sounds incredible,” I said. “I haven’t had one since Connecticut.”

  And, considering some of the things that had gone on since then, I felt a little…crusty.

  Rhys nodded. “I wouldn’t mind one myself, if there’s time.”

  Mom eyed us. “Well, there’s certainly no rush.” She chewed on her lip a moment, her eyes going between Rhys and me. “Do I, uh, need to turn on music?”

  I realized what she was getting at, and boggled yet again. “Mom! Oh my god, no. We’re taking separate showers. It’s not like that.” I sighed. “I mean, it is, but it’s not. You know what? It’s fucking complicated, okay? But no, we’re not…no.”

  She shrugged, and didn’t even address my F-bomb. “You’re adults. But regardless, take your time. I’ll get changed and then I have a few emails to take care of before I go play hooky for the day.” She led the way down the hall and gestured into the guest room. “There’s shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, all the good stuff. Take your time, and make yourself at home, honey. And if you need anything, just let me know. I bet you’re famished, but there’ll be plenty of everything at the party.”

  She kissed me on the cheek again, and then went into her room and closed the door. And despite the conversation, music started playing—Lexie and Myles, it sounded like. Loud enough to drown out just about anything.

  I went into the guest room and looked around, Rhys with me.

  Our hands were still joined, fingers twined, like we’d always been this way. No wonder Mom assumed we were together.

  “Your mom is the fuckin’ coolest,” he said. “For real.”

  I laughed. “You know, I always loved Mom, I mean, she’s my mom and she’s great, but I never really saw her as…cool, or uncool. She was just…Mom. I wasn’t embarrassed by her, but I didn’t think I had, like, a cool mom.” I gestured in the direction of her room. “That? That’s someone I’ve never met before, in Mom’s body. She’s cool, she’s…casual, confident, funny. I don’t know. It’s weird, seeing her like that, after so long apart.” I sighed. “She seems happier than I’ve ever seen her, though.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Rhys asked.

  I sat down on the end of the bed, and Rhys sat beside me. “Yes. But…god, it’s weird. It’s bringing up a lot of other stuff. Like, if she’s this happy now, how unhappy was she before? With Dad? She’s a whole new person.”

  He squeezed my leg. “I think, maybe, that’s a conversation you and her should have together. I don’t think you need to try and figure it out right now.” He s
miled, comforting, easy. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll go hang out in the living room.”

  I snorted. “Rhys, at this point, regardless of what happens between us, I don’t see any point in shyness.”

  “I mean, I don’t want to assume anything.”

  “I appreciate that.” I had so much to say, so much I wanted.

  I wanted him in the shower with me.

  Yeah, even in my mother’s condo, with her only a few feet away.

  I said nothing. Just got up, walked toward the shower. Peeled my shirt off, tossed it aside. Stepped out of my shorts, tossed them the other way. Naked, then. I felt his eyes. His desire.

  I turned, pausing in the doorway of the bathroom. I stared at Rhys. Saw the evidence of his desire bulging against the zipper of his jeans. “Rhys…”

  He shook his head. “Not here, not like this, Torie. If nothing else, out of respect for your mother and my own qualms…and as much as I want to get in that shower with you, I can’t.”

  I bit my lip. “I’ll be thinking about you, then.”

  “What are you trying to do to me, goddamit?” he hissed. “I’m trying to be the good guy, here.”

  I felt something reaching a full, rolling boil inside me. “Maybe all good all the time is overrated.”

  I went to the bedroom door and locked it. I felt that boiling place inside me bubble over. Spill over. Like a steam engine exploding under too much pressure.

  Rhys was just watching me. Sitting on the end of the bed, hands on his thighs, gripping hard.

  I had to…do…something. Anything to alleviate the need I felt for him. “This is for me, Rhys.”

  “What’s for you?” he asked, his voice a ragged whisper.

  I knelt in front of him and held his eyes. I saw the moment he understood, and I saw the resistance, his innate goodness trying to win over his own natural need and desire.

  I took my hair of the loose, sloppy braid and let it fall around my shoulders. I did not take my eyes off him.

  “This is me checking something off my bucket list.” I unbuttoned his jeans. “It’s me doing something I want to do, for my own reasons. Which I might share with you…later, if you want to know them.”

  “Tell me now.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  I lowered his zipper. Pulled at the jeans and, despite his obvious misgivings, he lifted his ass—I yanked them off, all the way. He sat in tight gray briefs, the front bulging, tented. He wasn’t all the way there, yet. Good. I wanted to take him from limp to coming.

  “Take your shirt off,” I told him. “I like looking at you. You’re a beautiful man, Rhys. You have an incredible body.”

  “It’s mostly genetics.”

  “Don’t be modest.”

  He laughed. “Fine. I haven’t had time to work out since I met you, but I do, a lot. And I often go long periods without eating. It results in a decent body.”

  I watched him peel his shirt off, baring those delicious abs. “No, it results in a glorious, divine, absolutely wicked body.”

  “If you say so,” he murmured.

  I tugged at his briefs, and he lifted to let me slip them off. And then he was naked, and his cock was curled like a comma against his thigh, not quite completely flaccid—which meant the giant bulge I’d seen before was just…him, flaccid. God, he had an amazing dick.

  I ran my hands up his thighs and watched him tense. “Don’t say anything, Rhys.” I kissed his leg, just outside and above his knee. “Unless it’s my name, or to tell me how good it feels.”

  “Shit,” he muttered. “Why, Torie?”

  I held on to the outsides of his thighs and kissed up near his right hipbone. “I told you. I want to. This has nothing to do with our conversation; that whole are we/aren’t we, will we/ won’t we thing. I know what I want, and I know the time for it is not this moment. This is…just me being horny, and you being here.”

  “Shit, shit, shit,” he hissed, as I kissed his belly, above his navel. “I want—”

  “I don’t care what you want,” I interrupted. “Not right now. Right now, I’m doing something I want to do. And what I want to do is suck your cock until you don’t know who the fuck you are.”

  I kissed his other hipbone, and I felt his cock against my cheek, felt it firming.

  “Oh-shit-oh-fuck,” he breathed.

  I laughed. “I haven’t done anything yet.” I pulled away, looked up at him. “By the way, yes, this will be the first time I’ll have done this, from start to finish. So…I hope I do okay.”

  His laugh was a hoarse bark of disbelief. “Oh, something tells me you’ll do fucking amazing. Everything you do is fucking amazing.”

  I smiled at him. “Good answer, Rhys.”

  His hands lifted, fluttered, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Kneeling between his thighs, I took his hands in mine. Lifted them to my face, guided his fingers to slide into my hair. Smiled at him.

  “Just enjoy it, Rhys. And if you’re so inclined, repay me in kind, at a later date. Maybe surprise me with it. I give you permission, right now, open-ended permission to do that to me, whenever you want. Without question.”

  He just nodded, swallowing hard. “Oh—okay.” He shifted, moving his hips, digging his fingers deeper into my hair. “Not in my nature to just sit back and enjoy things.”

  “Then this will be a lesson.” I bit my lip around a heated grin. “Now, I’m done talking. I have other uses for my mouth.”

  “I like you a little bossy,” he murmured. “It’s fuckin’ hot.”

  I shifted closer. His cock was mostly straight now, but still more limp than erect. I palmed his thighs, ran my hands up and over his hips to cup the upper portion of his ass. I kept my eyes open, on his member, slowly bringing my mouth to it. Tilted my head to the side, opened my mouth…and took him between my lips. Flesh, salt, heat. He let out a breath, soft and slow.

  I moved my face to bring him away from his thigh, and took all of him into my mouth—he was still small and soft enough that it was possible. I touched my tongue to his balls, licked up to his tip. Used my tongue to gather him back into my mouth. Felt him hardening in my mouth, engorging against my lips.

  His hands snarled in my hair, and then loosened, and he gathered my long thick hair away from my face, taking the mass of it in one fist—I had enough hair that he could and did wrap the glossy black sheaf around his fist so his grip against my scalp was tight and firm.

  God, that was hot.

  His other hand cupped the back of my neck, encouraging but not applying any pressure.

  Oh god, he was growing fast. Inches of cock expanded between my lips. My hands slid back to his thighs, and then I cupped his thickening length in one hand, stroking it as I licked and suckled the tip.

  More, then. Harder. God, so much cock. I backed away and stroked him slowly, my other hand curling under his balls and massaging them—I knew he particularly liked that. In fact…

  I took them into my mouth, tickled by the small dark hairs but not turned off by them. He groaned, long and low, as I mouthed his heavy sac and stroked his length.

  “Fuck, Torie. So good.”

  He was completely hard, then, too many inches to fit in my mouth, but damn me if I wasn’t going to try. I held the base of his cock and angled him away, licking over the tip, tasting his leaking pre-cum. I wrapped my lips around him, flicked my tongue against him, and then slowly accepted more and more of him into my mouth, toward the back of my throat. He groaned again, a deep, guttural sound that shot straight to my core. His pleasure was my pleasure. And he really liked this. The more of him I took, the more his ass lifted involuntarily, the harder his stomach tensed.

  So, I took more. Leaning over him, I let the fat springy head press against the back of my throat. He hissed, his hands tightening in my hair, as if resisting the urge to push me lower. I opened my throat and accepted more of him, and his involuntary growl was enough to make me back away, take a breath, and try again. I glanced
up at him as I slowly pushed him back into my mouth—his eyes were closed in absolute rapture, head thrown back, jaw open, disbelief written on his features.

  His eyes snapped open as I took more of him this time, my eyes widening as I felt him in my mouth, my throat, swallowing around him. There was a little panic for a moment as I swallowed and felt nothing but him, as if I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, audibly gagging a little. But my nostrils flared and I sucked in oxygen, and he groaned loud, ragged, watching me as my lips slid over him, as his cock slowly vanished into my mouth…

  There were a couple of inches between my lips and his body…

  Then one inch…

  Then I felt my nose against his belly, and I had all of him…all of him, every last incredible, jaw-stretching inch. My jaw was, indeed, cracked far apart, and I had to swallow and swallow around him, and then I had to let him out of my mouth and, somewhat gratefully, wiggle my jaw and take a breath. I smiled up at him.

  “Holy fucking hell, Torie,” he breathed, absolutely gutted, awed. “You took all of it.”

  I kissed the tip, licked it, ran my tongue down the base. Paused with him in my fist, bulbous head against my lips like a microphone. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

  “First for you, first for me.”

  “No one has ever deepthroated you before?” I asked, and then wrapped my lips around the head.

  He shook his head, brow wrinkled, huffing as I circled him with my tongue. “Hell no. No one has ever tried.” A gasp of laughter mixed with a groan of pleasure. “Un-fucking-believable. Incredible.”

  I smiled, loving his disbelief, the rapture of his pleasure. I went deeper, and he groaned all over again, hips flexing. I grasped him by the root, cupped his balls, and decided it was time to quit playing around and make him come.

  Not fast, but hard.

  I stroked him, cradled his balls, and used my lip and tongue on his head, slowly, lovingly. He groaned, growled, and now his hips were lifting off the bed, flexing up, touching down, only to lift again, needing a rhythm, wanting more, aching to come. I felt his balls tighten. Felt his belly go rock hard. Heard his breathing hitch.

  “F-fuck,” he snarled. “I’m…god, I’m so close, Torie.”

 

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