by Lacey Black
“I mean, the boys will be there, so you’ll have to try to keep your hands to yourself for a night.” Just to get a rise out of her, I throw her a smirk.
Lexi just rolls her eyes. “I think I can manage,” she sasses, turning and grabbing her keys and phone.
When she steps into the hallway, I’m instantly assaulted by her scent. It’s clean with a touch of sweet. I want to lick her. Fuck, I’d lick her like a lollipop until she’s moaning and withering beneath my tongue, and then I’d do it some more just to watch the sight of her coming undone all over again.
Discreetly adjusting my crotch, I lead her towards my door. The boys are killing each other in the living room, Jeff standing over Jack, driving his big fake sword into his gut repeatedly. “Boys, knock it off. We have a guest.”
“Lexi!” Jack hollers, jumping up and running our way. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.
I burst into laughter, while Lexi gives me a look, as if she’s blaming me for his come-on. I raise my hands in defeat and try to wipe the smile off my face. My little brother is definitely a charmer. “Don’t look at me.”
“I bet you were just like him when you were younger, always charming the teachers out of no homework and the girls out of their juice boxes.”
Leaning forward until our noses are practically touching, I whisper, “Actually, it was their pudding cups.” Her eyes dilate with hunger and fire spreads through my veins as I draw out the last two words.
“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt it. You’re trouble,” she states pointedly.
“Naw, I’m a good boy, Firecracker. I just enjoy getting a little bad with the right woman,” I tell her with a wink before turning my attention to the pile of ingredients on the counter.
“What are you making?” she asks, leaning her hip against the counter.
“Pasketti,” Jeff hollers from the living room.
“Spaghetti,” I correct with a smile.
“That’s what I said,” Jeff grumbles before turning his attention back to the television.
“Hope you’re okay with Italian,” I say, placing a pot of water on the stove to boil. Next, I grab a cutting board and get to cutting Italian sausage into bite-size pieces.
“That sounds great. Can I help with something?” she offers, looking around at the meager ingredients. Just one glance her way has my blood pumping and my cock stirring. Sure, she could help with something, but I don’t think that’s what she’s offering.
“Well, I’m just using jar sauce, but I usually add some mushrooms to the mix, if you like them. The boys pick them out, but we can definitely leave them out if you’re not a fan.”
“I love mushrooms,” she replies, grabbing the small can of bits and pieces mushrooms and the can opener. “You know, I have a pretty easy spaghetti sauce recipe that my grandma taught all of us. I could show you sometime,” she adds casually, her delicate little shoulders shrugging slightly.
Lexi must feel my eyes on her because she glances my way. I offer her a small smile, the prospect of her coming over sometime to share a recipe and help me cook, warming my blood. “That’d be great.”
Once the sausage is in the pan and simmering on low, I break the spaghetti noodles in half and throw them into the water. Next, I crank the oven temperature up to four hundred and get the garlic breadsticks ready on a cookie sheet.
Glancing over, I find Lexi at the stove, stirring around the meat so it doesn’t scorch. A weird sensation sweeps through my body, and I find myself just staring. She looks so comfortable and so fucking hot standing in my kitchen that my level of contentment stops me in my tracks.
I want this.
This foreign feeling that seems a hell of a lot like happiness.
We work side by side as we finalize dinner, co-existing as if we’ve been here for years. Neither of us talk, but words aren’t needed. Every time I steal a few glances, she’s looking at me, a small smile playing on those lips. Yeah, those lips. The ones I’ve been dreaming about kissing again until I’m dizzy with lust and hard enough to jackhammer concrete.
“Spaghetti’s ready,” I holler at the boys as I move the sauce from the counter to the table.
Before I can even grab a plate, Lexi has a plate in one hand and the other in front of her on the counter, scooping a pile of noodles onto both plates. She moves effortlessly as she adds sauce, meat, and a garlic breadstick to each plate. Then, she delivers them to the table, where my brothers are waiting. Grabbing a pitcher of lemonade that I made earlier, I pour them each a small glass, then two larger ones for us.
“Jeff, use your napkin, not your hand,” I advise, grabbing a paper napkin from the pile and setting it beside him.
“My pasketti is the best!” he exclaims, mouth full of half-chewed food.
“Spaghetti,” I say.
“That’s what I said!”
Smiling, I grab the last plate and pile it high with carbs. Lexi’s already sitting at the table, laughing at something Jack is saying, and looks so relaxed, so much younger than her twenty-five years. She looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world, as if the stresses of everyday life and those extra ones associated with her douchecanoe ex, no longer exist.
Suddenly, I’m more determined than ever to keep that look on her face.
After dinner, she helps clean up the mess, even though I tell her not to. I can clean up the dishes after she leaves and the boys are in bed. But since she’s offering to help, I’m not about to miss a single second of having her in my kitchen, working side by side to complete a chore as simple as washing dishes.
Instead of watching The Gladiator, I find a show I like called Forged in Fire. Of course the boys are into it since the premise of the show is making knives. Lexi sits beside me on the couch as the boys demonstrate how they’d use each knife made to maim and kill their opponent.
When it gets a little gruesome, I redirect their attention to dessert. Even though they still watch the show, the boys eat ice cream with a chocolate shell that hardens. “Watch, Lex! I’m going to kill my ice cream,” Jack says, stabbing the shell with his spoon and breaking it apart into small pieces.
“You better eat it before it melts. Otherwise, I’m going to,” she says, smiling fondly down at my brother. They’re sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, eyes wide and riveted as two remaining bladesmiths battle for the title of champion of the episode.
She dips her spoon into her ice cream and scoops up a bit of the hard chocolate shell before slipping it into her mouth. I almost moan out loud as she licks the bottom of the spoon, my pants tightening with each second I watch. Her eyes find mine on her, hot and yearning.
“Do I have some on my face?”
“If you did, I’d just lick it off,” I tell her, watching hypnotically as her sexy little tongue slips out and slides along the corner of her mouth.
“Dirty bird,” she mumbles.
“You have no idea the things playing through my mind right now.” Like you naked while I suck melted ice cream off your tits. “If I close my eyes, I’d be watching porn.”
She giggles and takes another spoonful of melting ice cream. Her eyes are on mine as she brings it to her mouth and dips her tongue into the sweet, cold mixture, swirling it around and coating the tip of her tongue in white.
My balls start to ache.
“That’s not very nice, seductress.”
“Do you want a bite?”
“Are we talking about the ice cream or something else? Because yes, I definitely want a bite,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and slowly drawing it towards my mouth.
Her eyes are emerald balls of fire as she watches me bring the spoon to my mouth. My tongue darts out, lazily licking the same cream where her tongue just trailed. Her mouth opens and she starts to pant when I slowly slide my tongue along the top of the spoon, parting the ice cream, before wrapping my mouth completely around it and closing. When I swallow, I
make sure to do it slowly, my eyes locked on hers the entire time.
Erotic. As. Fuck.
After a moment, she pulls the spoon from my mouth. Clearing her throat, she says, “Okay. We should definitely eat more ice cream.”
“Bedtime!” I holler, jumping off the couch as if my ass were on fire.
“No!” Jeff yells, while Jack grabs his sword. “Let’s duel this out.”
“No duels. No arguing. Bedtime.”
The boys say goodnight to Lexi, and I have to practically drag them to their bedroom as if they were off to their deaths. Never mind that it’s exactly eight thirty, which is their bedtime, but they’re so used to staying up a little past it when they’re with me that they’re not taking the bedtime enforcement so well.
After they brush their teeth and get in bed, I turn on the nightlight and give them hugs. “Good night, boys,” I say as I step back into the hall, leaving the door cracked just a hair.
Lexi’s still on one end of the couch, too far away from where I want her.
Which is in my arms.
“Come here,” I whisper hoarsely, reaching for her body, needing to feel it against mine. She moves easily, crawling into my lap.
My cock is strained against my pants, but I make no move to adjust it to a comfortable position. I’m afraid that if I move, she’ll disappear. Instead, I keep my hands in contact with her soft skin as much as possible. I slide my hands up her arms, reveling in the way goose bumps pepper her flesh. Her eyes blaze with a need, a desire, that I can’t describe–can only feel.
Her lips move as she leans forward. They’re slightly parted and the sight of them inching closer and closer turns me on like a light switch. Her eyes flutter closed just before our lips connect when we hear, “I need to use the potty.”
Cockblocked by an eight-year-old.
Lexi jumps in my lap, pulling back until she practically falls on the floor.
“Were you two kissing?” Jeff giggles while Jack goes into the bathroom.
“No,” she gasps at the same time I say, “Yep.”
She jumps the rest of the way off my lap, returning to her half of the couch, and curling her legs into her chest. “Come on, knuckleheads. Back to bed,” I say, rubbing my hands over my face and willing my hard-on to subside.
They’re giggling like girls when I enter the bedroom. “Are we done getting up?”
“You were kissing. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
“First comes love.”
“Then comes marriage.”
“That’s enough, boys,” I interrupt their chanting and tuck them back into their bunks. “Sleep. You have school in the morning.”
“I hate school,” Jeff grumbles.
“I love it. Miss Hillengoss always wears pretty high heels,” Jack smirks.
“You’re too young to notice that,” I reply, shaking my head. “Goodnight,” I add as I step back out of the room, closing the door as I go. I can hear them laughing on the other side.
It’s still not quiet when I reach the living room, but I join her on the couch once more. My cock is strained against my pants, begging to come out and play. But he’s just gonna have to wait, because that’s not happening tonight.
“Are they asleep?” she asks softly, her arms wrapping around my waist once more. The way she’s leaning against me brings her dangerously close to my zipper, causing my dick to pound against the restraint in protest.
“Not with you here. They’ll probably need to pee again in a few minutes or want a glass of water.”
“I should go.”
“Probably,” I agree, pulling her tighter against my body. Nope, she’s not going anywhere yet.
“This doesn’t feel like me leaving,” she whispers, her small fingers flexing against my shirt, making my abs jump. I’d kill for her touch against my bare skin right now.
“Nope. I can’t let you leave yet,” I say, picking her up and moving her. She straddles my front, my cock so fucking close to the one place it wants to be more than anything. I’d gladly give up air right now if it meant being inside her.
“Why not?” Her breath hits my face like a caress, and all I want to do is kiss this woman.
So I do.
“Because I haven’t told you goodnight yet.”
My lips claim hers with a fierceness I’ve come to associate with only her. She immediately opens her sweet mouth, allowing my tongue to plunder and take. Taste. My tongue moves against hers, stroking and licking, claiming with every second that passes. My hands move to the back of her neck, into her hair, holding her firmly as my mouth devours her. I hold her as if I’m afraid she’ll move or leave, and that what I was given won’t be enough.
It’ll never be enough.
I’ll keep craving more.
Her hands grip my shirt as she grinds against my crotch. My cock swells further, every ounce of blood I possess flowing to one concentrated area. I’m lightheaded and dizzy, a feeling I get every time this woman is in my arms.
I need to touch her skin. I need her to touch mine. I need…more.
Quickly, I rip my shirt over my head and toss it somewhere in the room. Her fingers flex against my pecs, branding them with one touch. My mind flashes to the night I danced for her, the way her fingers danced against my body. Electricity charges through me, reckless and destructive, making my hips flex upward, my aching cock seeking out her sweet pussy.
“I need to touch you,” I tell her without removing my lips from hers.
“Yes,” she groans, moving her hips and driving me wild.
“Back up,” I instruct. She instantly shifts back, giving me room to open the button and zipper of her pants.
Once I have access, I pull her back and attack her lips again. They’re swollen and wet and just fucking right. My hands go to her shirt, sliding beneath the material and up towards her glorious tits. I’ve seen some pretty nice ones in my life. Big ones, small ones, fake ones, but none as perfect as hers. They fill my hand as if they were made for my palm.
Lexi mewls as her tongue slides into my mouth, stroking against mine and plunging deep, mimicking to the dirty images in my head of what my cock wants to do to her pussy.
“I want to do so many dirty things to you,” I confess, sliding my hand inside of her bra and pinching her nipple.
“God yes. All of it. I want you to do all of it,” she gasps, grinding down hard of my dick.
“I will,” I tell her, slipping my hand down her stomach, to where her pants are open.
Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I slide my hand between her panties and hot flesh. It’s a tight fit, especially with my large mitts, but I manage. The material is already wet and as soon as I come in contact with her warm, soaked pussy, I have to fight the urge to groan.
My fingers immediately slip between her lips, where her clit pulses hard. Her eyes start to glaze over, her eyelids drooping slightly as I apply a little pressure and move my hand. Her hips start to gyrate, her body riding my hand, seeking out the orgasm I’m promising.
“Oh God,” she groans quietly, biting down on her bottom lip to keep from crying out.
“I want your hands on me, beautiful,” I tell her as I pick up the pace.
Like an electrical current, shockwaves zap through me as her fingers come in contact with my bare chest. She grips my pecs, her nails digging into the tender flesh. Just the thought of her marking me makes me crazed. Fueled. Ravenous.
Her lids flutter closed and I can tell she’s getting close. “Keep your eyes open, beautiful. I want to watch you come,” I say, slipping my fingers down farther. Her hips buck wildly as I slide a finger inside of her body. She’s hot, wet, and tight. So fucking tight it makes my balls throb.
When she tightens around my finger, I realize she’s on the brink of coming. My lips find hers as my fingers push her over the edge. I swallow every sound she makes, flexing my fingers and continuing to pump one inside her pussy. She closes her eyes briefly, but only
when it seems almost impossible to keep them open any longer. Lexi sags against me, her muscles starting to relax against my fingers.
“Wow,” she whispers as I slowly pull from her body. My cock is practically shouting in my pants that it’s his turn, but I ignore the horny bastard. Now isn’t the time.
“Watching you come might be my favorite thing in the whole world,” I confess, pulling my hand out of her panties, and because I’m a dirty bastard like my cock, I bring that lucky finger to my mouth and slip it inside. I can’t stop the moan as her scent surrounds me, wrapping around me and soothing my battered soul. She tastes like sex, like desire, like my woman.
And she is.
Mine.
Chapter Thirteen
Lexi
My body is humming. My mind is blank. My heart is racing.
And I want more.
More of Linkin and his masterful mouth. More of his talented fingers. More of the fire he stirs to life in my soul.
But then reality sets in, and I realize I’m the hussy who just got off to her neighbor’s fingers (albeit thick, gifted fingers) on his couch with his twin brothers pretending to sleep down the hall. My entire body goes rigid, much like the erection I’ve been grinding on like a cat in heat.
“Don’t,” he whispers, after he pulls his finger from his mouth. Oh, God. That mouth. That finger. Just the thought is enough to make me want to come again.
“Don’t?” I pant. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
“I can’t believe we waited so long to do that.”
“You’re so frustrating,” I grumble, maneuvering myself back a bit. For some reason, my brain turns to mush when my body is in contact with his.
“I’m amazing. Stop fighting it,” he quips with that smirk I love to hate.
“You’re impossible, pushy, and cocky.”
“I love it when you say cock-y,” he says, flexing his hips in a slightly juvenile manner, but for some reason, it makes my palms sweat and my uselessly soaked panties…well, more soaked.
Chuckling, I shake my head at him. It’s funny that I was on the verge of an epic freak-out, then he calmed me down just by talking to me. He talked me off the proverbial ledge without even realizing it. He makes what we just did seem like the most natural thing in the world. Being with him, even when it’s something as casual as lunch, just seems…right. Easy.
