“What are you doing?” she snickered, not getting up from her position. “That’s not helping with the painting.”
“Fuck the painting.”
With one tug, I had the back of them just under her ass and the answer to my question right in my face. A thong. A bright white lace thong.
The memory of how tight she was around the tip of my dick this morning came back to me, and I swear I could feel it right then. To be honest, it’d been going around my head all day, but now that she was right in front of me, I desperately wanted to finish what we’d started.
Not looking away from the thin string between her cheeks, I skimmed the tip of my forefinger down it, starting at the very top and ending just as the gusset of the panties began.
“So soft,” I murmured, tracing back up again. “So smooth.”
“Logan,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
This time, I pushed my fingers under the waistband and pulled the panties down to join her shorts under her butt, hearing the thud of the small roller in her hand hitting the floor as I did it.
“This time, I don’t even care if there’s a fire. We’re not being interrupted.”
The words would be funny if I wasn’t in the position I was in. I was as serious as a heart attack. The place could be burning down, and I still wasn’t going to stop.
Her back twitched as her right shoulder dipped down, but then her shorts and underwear were sliding down her thighs to the floor, and I realized she’d pulled the front down so she could get free of them altogether.
I did one last skim with the tips of my fingers over one of her cheeks, before slowly trailing them down to her entrance.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my entire life,” I rasped, dipping the tip of my middle finger inside her and groaning.
Her body jerked at the move and there was a soft thud, but then she was standing up with her back to my chest still, and pulling my head down toward hers with one arm. The position should’ve been awkward, but somehow it wasn’t. It was handy because now I could reach around the front of her and play with her clit—which was precisely what I did, smiling into the kiss when she gasped in my mouth.
“Take your shorts off.”
Unfortunately, mine weren’t as easy as hers were to remove, seeing as how I had jockey shorts with a tight elastic waistband on them, specifically designed not to budge, but I made it happen and kicked them off.
With my hands free again, I went back to what I’d been doing and trailed a path from her belly button down to her pussy, stopping when my fingers reached the wetness waiting for them.
It was exhilarating to know that just kissing her and being this close to her had done this. That I’d done this to her.
Gently separating her folds with my fingers, I used my middle one to circle her clit, while my free hand went under her t-shirt and cupped her breast over the lace of her bra.
Before I could do anything else, she spun around and hopped up, wrapping her legs around my waist. The move caught me off guard and I stumbled for a second before leaning her back into the wall for balance.
“Move faster,” she begged against my mouth.
“I need to make sure you’re ready so I—”
Pulling her face away, she snapped, “I’m ready. Jesus Christ, Logan, I’ve been ready since this morning. If was any more ready, I’d be a freaking puddle, so can you just do me already.”
Later on—much later on—I’d remember the words and find humor in them. At that moment, though, they were like the starting gun for a race.
Squeezing a hand between us, I gripped the base of my cock and lifted it to meet her, my eyes almost crossing when the tip skimmed through her folds perfectly. It was one thing to feel how wet and soft she was for me on my fingers, a whole new ballgame when it was my dick feeling it.
“It didn’t do you justice,” I croaked, moving it down again to find her entrance.
Panting, Bex tried to lift as best she could to help me out. “What didn’t do me justice?”
“My memory.”
It only took her a second to understand what I was saying. “Then we’ll just have to keep doing it, so you don’t forget.”
Those words were everything. It wasn’t a serious conversation about ‘us’ and where we were headed—it definitely wasn’t the moment for that—but it was as close as we’d get until we were in a situation where it would be more appropriate to do it.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” I promised as I started to push inside her slowly, closing my eyes as the feeling washed over me.
Then she laid down the gauntlet and taunted the beast. “We’ll see. You could be shit at it, and—” her words were cut off by the wail that came out of her as I thrust into her, pushing half my length inside her.
“You were saying?”
Dropping her forehead onto my shoulder, she moved her hips from side to side, like she was trying to squeeze more of me inside. “I have no idea,” she panted, pressing down now with her movements. “Why aren’t you moving?”
Shifting one hand under her ass to support her and the other one behind her neck, I gently skimmed my nose from her temple down to her jaw. “I’m trying to give you time. I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”
Turning her head so that her lips were only just touching mine, she raised her eyes to meet mine. “I’m not breakable. If it hurts, I’ll tell you, even if it means punching you in the head.”
My hips had already started moving, withdrawing slightly to push back into her. I’d been about to say something back, but it was cut off by knocking on the front door.
Not stopping what I was doing, I thrust harder into her. “Ignore it.”
With patience and a mixture of speed and power that satisfied both of us, I worked my full length inside her. If I’d thought having the tip inside this morning was heaven, this was a full-blown paradise.
I kept us so that I was looking into her eyes as I moved in and out of her, loving how glazed they were, but also the way she had to bite her lip to hold her cries in, seeing as how whoever was outside kept knocking on the door.
Keeping my voice low, I promised, “The next time we do this, you’re going to let all of those screams out. You’re going to let me know how everything feels, even this.” I ground into her, rubbing my pubic bone against her clit.
Almost like her head was too heavy, even with my hand still supporting her neck, it dropped back and made a noise as it hit the wall. On the next thrust, her hair moved away from her forehead, revealing a blue mark that was quickly covered back up again when the strands dropped back into place.
Being face-to-face ticked so many boxes, but I needed more. “It’s not enough,” I said grimly, lowering her to her feet and slowly sliding out of her. “Turn around.”
She did as I asked, pulling her t-shirt off at the same time. With her back to me, I unclipped her bra and slid it down her arms, dropping it on top of the other clothes now tangled around our feet.
“Perfect,” I groaned, sliding back into her and making her squeak when the cold wall met her naked tits.
“Shit, that’s freezing.”
This position made it easier to move inside her, but it felt like she was slipping on the wall slightly, so I moved back about six inches to give her some room away from it. Come to find out, Bexley had her own ideas of what she wanted, because she braced her hands on the wall and used it to push back against me even more, moving me back farther.
With my hands holding her hips firmly, I thrust into her, not quite able to grasp how she felt so good inside. It was like she was gripping onto all of me with each move and didn’t want to let go when I withdrew. This was bad because it meant I was going to come sooner than I wanted to if I didn’t do something to stop it.
One of her hands disappeared from the wall, and then I felt her fingers on the next thrust into her and realized she was rubbing her clit.
“Fuck!”
“Sh
it, Logan,” she gasped, her body starting to shake. “I’m coming.”
Unable to stop the same thing happening to me, I increased the speed and power of my thrusts even more until I felt her walls start to spasm and gave into my own climax. It felt like each spurt of my come into her took my energy with it, and each squeeze of her walls around me made it happen even more, leaving my limbs feeling like jelly when it finally ended as I lowered my forehead onto her back, panting against it.
I was so focused on trying to stay standing and get oxygen into my body that I jerked when she spoke. “Is that my heartbeat or the door?”
I couldn’t hear a damn thing, and my mind could only focus on one thing. “I want to stay inside you forever.”
Her snorting chuckle made her squeeze around my cock, which was overly sensitive at that moment, and my legs gave out. Because she was relying on me to hold her up, she sank down with me, and we ended up on the floor with me on my knees and her in the reverse cowgirl position.
I think my dick had delusions of grandeur because he twitched like he thought he could do it all over again so quickly, but the reality was—no way in hell. He’d have to get over that disappointment. And since when did I talk about my penis like it was a human being? The answer was: since I’d had the best sex of my life with the most amazing woman to ever exist.
I was just about to try and put those thoughts into words that wouldn’t sound crass when I heard the loud thuds coming from the front door again.
“I’m thinking that’s not a delivery,” she mumbled, then let out a loud gasp. “My tits are on the wall.”
Given our position, I could see over her shoulder and confirm that they were most definitely not on the wall. “Does this mean you want to get dressed because you’re cold, or is it a figure of speech?”
Then she pointed above us, and after it sank in what I was looking at, I understood what she meant.
See, we’d forgotten about the wet blue paint, so when I’d pressed her face-first against the wall, and it’d felt like we were moving on it, we had been.
There was a thick blue smear leading roughly a foot away from where the border ended— which wouldn’t look so bad, if it wasn’t for the fact that it looked like someone had stamped a tit with a nipple in the middle next to it.
Under this was a clear, if not slightly smudged, blue butt print as well.
“Bexley? Logan?” Mom’s voice called through the door. “Are you home? I don’t get it, his vehicle’s right there. Her car hasn’t arrived yet, has it?”
“It would be good timing after today,” Kenton agreed. “But it would’ve come with all her shit, so I’m sure she’d have called to let us know she needed help with the boxes.”
“Oh my God,” Bex whispered, sounding horrified. “Our parents are right outside.”
I was already reaching for her bra and t-shirt to pass them to her, still connected in what was now a fucking awkward way. “Yeah, put those on.”
“You don’t think they’ve had an accident, do you?” Dad asked, knocking again.
“Lorena will be back with the key any minute, so we can go in and check.”
“Shit, hurry up,” she hissed, getting up from my lap and practically sprinting to the small bathroom that was thankfully near us.
It was awkward and uncomfortable putting clothes on without cleaning up, but I managed to do it and throw her panties and shorts in to her as I jogged past, doing my best to tidy my hair before I got to the door.
Then, with a fake surprised look on my face, I threw it open and did my best to sound like I meant it when I said, “You know, I wasn’t sure if it was the door or if Prince was running around the house like a psycho.”
My parents and her dad all stared at me, Mom’s eyes moving to skim over me like she was checking me over.
Fuck, had I put my clothes on inside out?
A glance down didn’t show anything, but that didn’t rule out my shorts.
“Where the hell have you been?” Dad snapped as I moved away to let them in. “We’ve been knocking on the door for ages.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I tried to wing it. I was a terrible liar, always had been, so this wasn’t easy. “I was getting cleaned up after we finished doing a blue border in the front living room, and I guess Bex is doing the same thing. She said she was going to cook tonight—” Kenton shuddered “—but I kind of like breathing, so we were going to pick some Mexican up.”
Mom was still assessing me, and I could feel the sweat starting on my forehead. I’d learned very early on in life that mothers knew everything, no matter what we did to hide what we’d done wrong. At that moment, I swore she could see right through me.
Her eyes narrowed as she prepared to say something, but the sound of the toilet flushing and the door opening loudly interrupted her. All of us turned to watch as Bex stumbled out of the small room, her cheeks stained bright red as she smiled at everyone like she hadn’t expected them.
“Oh, hey! I didn’t know y’all were here, did you?” she asked me. “What a great surprise. We were just painting.” She started to wave at the front room, then changed her mind and motioned with her hand to the smaller one at the back.
I wanted to do a real-life facepalm. We’d taken off the tape that made the protective border between the blue and white paint yesterday and I’d just said we were painting the front room. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, she’d taken all the painting supplies through to the other room, so there was enough proof we hadn’t been painting in there to raise questions.
We were awful at this!
“Are you okay?” Kenton asked suspiciously as he started to walk toward her, just as Lorena burst through the front door.
“I found them in the— Oh, there you are. Where were you?” she asked as she looked between us all. Then, eyes on her daughter, she moved over to Bex and put her hand on her forehead. “Are you sick? You didn’t get hurt today and lie so we wouldn’t fuss, did you?” Not giving Bex a chance to reply, she snapped at Kenton, “I told you we should’ve taken her home with us.”
“I’m fine, Mom, just a bit hot,” Bex mumbled, trying to move away from the hand that was coming back up to her forehead.
Because it was so close, though, it hit Bex’s hair as she turned her head, revealing the big blue mark on it from where her forehead had touched the paint earlier.
“Is that a bruise?” Lorena shrieked. “Oh my God, Bexley Anne Heath. Why did you say nothing was wrong?”
Looking confused, Bex stared at me like she was begging me to explain it.
Touching the same spot on my head to show her where it was, I cleared my throat. “I think you might have hit your head on the wet paint when you…”
How the hell was I meant to finish the sentence? I mean, I’d started it, and they’d all heard it, so there was no way I couldn’t say anything now.
“Uh…” Think, Logan, you dick. Think! “Bent over to get more paint on the roller.”
I’m a fucking genius, and apparently, my small lie game had gotten better with age.
Or so I thought.
Four sets of eyes—plus Bex’s—all stared at me, one of which was looking like he wanted to cut my head off.
Seeing the predicament I was in, and with lips twitching as he tried his best to hold back his smile, Dad saved my bacon. “We decided to come and see you guys. Your mom said Bex should rest as much as possible after today, so we brought a shit ton of food over.”
“Don’t swear,” Mom snapped. “Especially when you’re talking about food. It’s crass.”
“Well, excuse the fuck outta me,” Dad whispered as he walked past me, grabbing my arm and pulling me along with him. “I’ll just go and get the flowery metric ton of edible delights, dear.”
“Such a smart ass,” Mom sighed as we exited the house. “Now, let’s go and set up the table and chairs in the yard. It’s such a beautiful day, and we should make the most of it.”
“That was a close call,” Dad snicker
ed as we got closer to his car. “No explanation needed, kid.”
Groaning, I reached in and went to pick up one of the covered platters in the trunk and almost dropped it when I felt how heavy it was.
“What the hell did she do, cook a whole cow?”
Throwing his arms up in the air, Dad snapped, “Right? Son, that piece of meat cost me seventy bucks. Fucking seventy! I don’t even know if I’ve spent seven on it before.” Before I could correct him, though, he looked to the side and frowned. “Well, yeah, I have. But seventy’s still a lot of money for dead flesh.”
Balancing a large salad bowl on top of it, I waited for him to pick up stuff to carry in and followed behind him.
If I kept his body between Kenton and me, I might survive long enough to see my next birthday.
If not, I could maybe defend myself with the half bovine in my arms.
Chapter Fourteen
Bexley
Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me. Honestly, I didn’t care where just somebody, please do it now.
From the side-eyes I kept getting from our parents, they knew what we’d been doing when they got here. If that wasn’t enough of a hint, the way Dad kept spinning his knife as he stared at Logan was.
And to add to the discomfort, I had drying blue paint on my boobs sticking to my bra.
“What?” Logan barked, just as I was mentally digging a hole to Japan. “Hurst Townsend as mayor?”
Tipping his chair so that it was only resting on the back legs, Will grinned widely at us all. “Well, we suggested it to him, but he said no fucking way.” Logan and Dad both visibly relaxed at this. “Then your grandpa got to him and started to talk him around until Linda put her foot down, taking into account his hinky ticker and all.” He tapped his chest, reminding me of something else that’d happened while I was away that Pops had told me about—Hurst’s heart attack.
I remembered the call in the middle of the night like it’d just happened. Pops thought the sun rose and set with Hurst, so when they’d almost lost him, he was distraught. He’d called me to let me know and kept me up to date throughout the surgery and recovery, but it’d all been surreal. Hurst was one of the pillars of the town, without him, it would just feel weak and crumble.
Eat Crow (Cheap Thrills Series Book 6) Page 15
