The London Sisters: The Complete Series: Bonus Content Edition
Page 39
“You think that was bad?” I pause and moan as he kisses his way back up my neck and throat. “Have you seen yourself in a swimsuit?”
Max presses his hips forward and the very large, very hard bulge in his pants stabs me in the stomach. “I want you so much.”
“The feeling is very mutual.” I grab his dick and give it a little squeeze.
Just as I reach for the button on his pants—because damn it, family in earshot or not, this is my wedding week and if I want to have wild sex with my fiancé then I’m going to have wild sex with my fiancé--Max steps out of arms reach.
“Go take your shower,” he says, jerking his chin towards the master bath.
“Come take one with me.” I step towards him, grab his shirt, and give it a little tug.
Max shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says with a smile that I’ve learned means I’m in for one hell of a good time. “We’re going to play, but not right now. I want you so wound up by the time we get home that you’re ready to explode the moment I touch you.”
I study him. Max loves his toys. We rarely have sex without some kind of instrument or another coming into play. It makes for some very, very fantastic orgasms. But fantastic orgasms come with a lot of screaming and moaning. I don’t know if I can be silent enough if he intends to spend the whole night at the bar winding me up.
“Take your shower,” he says again, surely anticipating my question about just what he has in store for me. “You’ll see what I have in mind soon enough.”
I do as he says and I’m already so turned on that even my own hands feel good as I slide them over my body. My finger glides over my clit and I consider relieving just a little of the pressure Max has built up in me. It wouldn’t hurt, right? Just a little shower orgasm compliments of none other than moi?
But that’s the thing. Ever since Max has come into my life, it just doesn’t feel as good to do it myself anymore. Sure, my muscles clench, and sure, there’s pleasure involved, but it’s missing something. When I come with Max, there’s power and emotion and substance behind it. The earth quakes and my soul cries out, and it’s all about us, together, loving each other and bringing pleasure to one another. It’s not like that when I’m solo. And if he’s promising earth-shattering for later, I’d be a fool to waste my time on anything but the best.
I finish my shower just as turned on as I started it.
Okay, maybe a little more turned on, because I spent the entire time fantasizing about having him inside me. And wouldn’t you know, when I come back into our bedroom, I find him totally naked. Totally hard. Dick in hand. Staring straight at me.
I lose my grip on the towel I have wrapped around my body and it drops to the floor, carrying my jaw along with it.
“Just wanted to give you a little peek at what you’ve got to look forward to,” he says as he brushes past me into the bathroom. “Get dressed,” he says as he shuts the door. “Wear a skirt. No panties.”
Chapter Three
Fantastic Sam’s is the perfect little dive bar nestled right in the heart of downtown Bliss. If I wasn’t so distracted by the fact that my skirt is short and my thighs are damp and the wind coming in from the ocean wants to put it all on display, I’d find it funny that they call this little strip of shops downtown. I mean, I thought I grew up in a small town, but compared to Bliss, Townsbury is a thriving metropolis.
The parking lot beside the bar is full, so we have to park on the street. The Moores weren’t lying when they said this place was a local favorite. We press through the front doors into a wide open room filled with tables and chairs and people. My God, so many people. The bar is off to the right, kind of tucked into the corner and every seat there is taken. We find the lone empty table left in the joint--a cheap plywood thing barely big enough to accommodate all five of us--and claim it as ours. I take a seat, cautiously smoothing my skirt down to cover my ass as I do.
“You think there will be music tonight?” asks Maya, indicating the little stage and dance floor beside us.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” I have to shout to be heard because wow. This place is anything but blissful.
A waitress sidles up to our table, her too-tight t-shirt clinging to a pair of utterly spectacular tits. Well, the part of her tits that aren’t falling out of the v-neck that is. I don’t usually like that word. Tits. I rarely use it. But those things are in no way shape or form polite enough to be called breasts.
“You guys are new,” she says, popping her gum and flinging her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Just here for the week,” says Max and I have to give the man credit. He glances at her cleavage because it’s pretty much shoved in his face, but after that he keeps his focus glued above the neckline.
And I have to give myself credit because, under the table, his hand is very busy sliding up my thigh and under my skirt. I spread my legs a little. I swear it’s a reflex. But reflex or not, Max takes me up on the offer and runs a finger across my slick folds. And why am I giving myself credit for all this? Because while it’s happening, I keep a pleasant smile on my face and manage not to dissolve into a series of wild moans and orgasmic sighs.
“Well congratulations,” says the waitress, oblivious to what’s happening. “You might be Bliss’s first and only tourists.” She drops a hand on Dominic’s shoulder and gives him a sultry smile that has Dakota’s mouth dropping open. “What brings ya here?”
Dakota smiles sweetly at the girl and flashes her wedding ring as she points at me and Max. “Those two are following in our footsteps and getting married.” She pointedly takes Dominic’s hand and he drops his shoulder to bump lightly against hers.
“Married?” The blonde’s eyes light up as she looks at us.
Max stops playing with me under the table, takes my hand and kisses it. His finger leaves a wet streak on my palm. “Luckiest man ever,” he says and I squeeze my thighs shut as a surge of desire pools there.
“Well that’s cause for real congratulations now, isn’t it? First round’s on the house then, alright? I’m Ashley and I’ll take super good care of ya’ll.” She takes our drink orders, scribbling them down on her little notepad and then beams at me. “I just love a good love story,” she says and then heads back to the bar, her hips swaying in the teeniest pair of shorts I’ve ever seen.
“I think that was the classiest deflection I’ve ever seen,” Maya says to Dakota. “So smooth.”
“When you’ve got a husband as sexy as I do, you get used to fending off the women.” Dakota slaps my hand. “Just wait, you’ll see. You’ll have to come up with your own way to let the ladies know your man is taken.”
Out of nowhere, silence descends on Fantastic Sam’s. Surprised by the sudden change of atmosphere, we all look up in time to see a roundish man waddle onto the stage. Sweat drips from his ruddy face, but the guy has a smile you can’t help but like. The crowd cheers and claps and he holds up a hand and shakes his head.
“You all know I’m not the one who gets the applause,” he says in a nasally twang. “I just own the place.” He grins, pleased with himself, and the crowd chuckles. “Ya’ll ready for some music?”
The place goes crazy with a thunderous noise. Each and every customer here slapping their hands on the tables and stomping their feet into the floor. Dakota makes a face at me and joins in and before I know it, our whole table is slapping and stomping with the best of them
“I’m betting this man needs no introduction, but I have to introduce him anyway. Ladies … gentlemen…” The man, I assume he’s Sam, scans the crowd and waggles his head like he’s coming to a decision. “And since no one deserving to be called those things is here tonight, I’ll just say, hey! You guys! It’s time to welcome Cole Bennett to the stage!”
The bar erupts in laughter and more slapping and stomping as a tall young man takes the stage, a guitar slung over his shoulder. He’s as tan as he is blonde and has the strong arms and weathered skin of a man who spends a lot of time outside, wo
rking hard. He grins and there’s something in his eyes that reminds me of Max. He takes a seat without saying a word and picks a few chords on the guitar before starting into a song that has his fingers flying over the fretboard.
His voice is as weathered as his face and just as beautiful, lending a layer of depth and emotion to the song that I wasn’t prepared to find in a little bar like this. The patrons of Fantastic Sam’s are rapt, tapping their feet and smiling despite themselves. A few people get up to dance. I consider asking Max if he wants to join them, but dancing to something this fast and upbeat in a skirt this short while not wearing any panties seems like a bad idea. The last thing I want to be remembered for here in Bliss is as that one girl who flashed an entire bar.
Ashley returns, a laden tray balanced on her shoulder. “He’s good, isn’t he,” she says with pride in her voice as she serves us. “That’s his wife over there. And his mom. They come every time he plays.” She points to an elegant blonde woman—her hands resting on a very pregnant belly—and an older woman sitting next to her. Each of them stare up at the man onstage, utterly rapt and pleased as could be.
“It’s sweet, isn’t it?” asks Ashley. “Like I said, I just have a thing for a good love story.”
We drink and talk, our conversation mostly focusing on how Dominic met Dakota and how I met Max and how we fell in love. Maya listens but doesn’t contribute much and I recognize the patented, fake London smile that stretches her face but doesn’t reach her eyes. The one we all use when we don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings and we sure don’t want anyone to see our own feelings have been hurt. As far as I know, she isn’t seeing anyone and hasn’t seen anyone since high school. She’s been too busy living up to the demands of our parents, getting her medical degree and surviving her residency in pediatric surgery.
I’m not the only one to see it and when Dominic asks Dakota to dance, Max takes a moment to catch my eye and then offers his hand to Maya. She tries to turn him down but there’s no denying Max of anything once he’s set his mind to it. Before she even knows what’s happening, she’s out on the dance floor laughing and smiling as Max spins her around like he knows what he’s doing.
Just when I think I’ve found all the reasons I could possibly find to love this man, he goes and does something to show me that I’ve only just begun to understand how deep his heart goes.
Thankfully, the musician switches to a slow song as Max brings Maya back to the table. After watching all the acrobatics he just put her through, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll flash each and every single person here at Fantastic Sam’s the moment Max gets me moving to an upbeat song. I wonder what Ashely would think of our love story then?
Instead, Cole strums a lilting melody and croons into the microphone, his dusty voice the perfect back drop to the rush of Max’s breath as it whispers past my ear. He holds me tight. Presses my body to his, and we sway cheek to cheek. I close my eyes, utterly and completely in love with this moment. Determined to remember this song, this feeling, this … everything … for the rest of my life.
Max drops a hand to my lower back and then slowly spins us so he’s hiding me from view before he slides that hand down over my ass and up under my skirt. The touch of his skin to mine is shocking in a public place. I gasp and freeze in surprise, but he’s strong enough to keep me moving. And just like that, his hand his gone and he spins us back so that I’m totally visible again. His dick hardens and presses into me and I’m so wet I don’t know how I’m going to sit down without making a mess.
“I want to be inside you,” he whispers, his words hiding under the music. “My thick cock filling your pussy.”
My breath catches. Max isn’t one for talking and I’ve never had anyone say something like that to me. Ever.
And I love it.
“I want you down on your knees,” he continues. “I want you licking and sucking my dick, pleasing me.” He rubs his hand on my back. “All for me. All of you is for me.”
I nod, not sure how to respond.
“Say it.” He pulls back enough to look me in the eye. The whole rest of the world disappears from around us. It’s just him and me, swaying in time to the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.
“Say what?” I ask.
“Tell me that you’re mine.”
“Oh, Max. I am so yours. I was yours before I even met you, I just didn’t know it yet. And I’ll be yours for the rest of our life.”
“Damn straight.” His voice is thick with emotion and for the first time ever, I think of the sky when I look into his eyes.
The song ends and Max escorts me back to our table where we have fresh drinks waiting for us.
“Damn guys,” says Maya, waving a mostly empty margarita glass our way. “What the hell was that?”
I take a seat, careful to keep the fabric of the skirt covering my ass. “What was what?”
“That.” Maya gestures towards the dance floor as Dakota and Dominic join us.
“You saw it too?” Dominic asks as he pulls back Dakota’s chair.
Dakota nods and widens her eyes. “I know I sure did.”
Panic strums through my body and I take a long drink of my Long Island.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
Please don’t let them be talking about my ass.
“See what?” I’m pretty sure I manage to sound confused rather than terrified.
“That wasn’t a slow dance.” Maya takes a long drink of her margarita. “That was foreplay.”
Chapter Four
Maya’s right of course, though I’ll never admit it. The rest of the evening is spent with Max’s hand going places it shouldn’t, and me feeling things I can’t believe I’m feeling in public, and way more Long Islands than I ever intended to drink. Apparently, Ashley saw the same thing everyone else saw, and since she’s a sucker for a good love story she decided to bring us drinks on the house for the rest of the night, whether we asked for them or not.
By the time we get back to the house, I’m so ready to have Max to myself, I barely take the time to mutter goodnight to my sisters before I pull him down the long hallway to our bedroom. They giggle and shush each other as they head upstairs, reminding Dominic in loud whispers to be quiet so as not to wake Charlie and our parents. I close the door behind us and grab Max by the belt and pull him towards me.
“You wanted me on my knees, didn’t you?” I ask, looking up at him as I lower myself to the floor.
“I did.” Max undoes his buckle and slowly draws the belt from his pants. The hiss of leather against fabric sends a quiver of excitement through me. He reaches down and takes my hand, pulling me up to a standing position. “But I don’t anymore.”
Max kisses me so tenderly I think my heart might break open, exposing all that I am to him once and for all. His fingers graze my jawline and thread up into my hair. His tongue skims my lips and I tilt my head back to let him in. We kiss for a long time, our hands exploring each other’s bodies, the rush of our breath mingling with the rush of the ocean and I can’t help the little moans and whimpers that come from me.
I am consumed with love for him. Consumed with need. A desire to be closer and closer until there’s nothing left between us but the separate bodies we occupy.
“I love you, Chelsea,” he says, dropping kisses on my cheek, my jaw. “I want you with me for the rest of my life. You’re so perfect for me. Everything I ever wanted wrapped up in one hell of a sexy woman.”
Tears burn my eyes as he kisses me again. I pull at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine. Needing to give myself to him. Needing to take him for my own. He steps back and pulls it over his head.
“I love you so much,” I murmur as he drops it to the floor.
“Good,” he says. “I need you to.”
He takes off his pants while I slip out of my clothes and finally, we’re bare to each other. He stretches me out on the bed, covering my body with his, holding himself above me wit
h both of his hands on either side of my head. His eyes claim mine as he slides himself into me.
I clamp my mouth shut. I want to moan, to scream, to cry out with the ecstasy of the moment, but I can’t. Not when my whole family is just a few feet away. He fills me, stretching me like he promised he would and then he rolls his hips, slowly pulling himself out of me only to fill me once again.
“You feels so good,” he says and I moan despite myself. He continues to move slowly, never once looking away from me. His eyes are windows and I see his love for me, see how much he wants me. My lips part and my breath speeds and Max changes his angle ever so slightly, the base of his shaft grazing my clit.
I come. Exploding around him. Tiny little whimpers escaping my closed mouth. And never once do I look away from him. The compassion I see, the utter and complete joy he feels watching me come undone around him, it sets me free. As my orgasm fades, Max presses a kiss to my forehead.
“Mine,” he says, his voice rumbling in my ear.
“Yours.”
He sits up. Grabs my waist with both hands and thrusts into me, in search of his own release. I watch him like he watched me. Noticing the change in his features, the need in his eyes, the pleasure that rolls over him as he draws close to his own orgasm. I come with him, as I suppose I will for the rest of forever because we are inexplicably tied. I go where he leads me.
He shudders into me, as silent as he’s ever been and I realize I’m crying. I turn my head, desperate to hide the tears, but Max turns my face back to his.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, worried. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. God no.” He’s still inside me and I’m not ready to be without him yet. I grab his hips and hold him in place. “I just love you, that’s all. And that was beautiful.”
“I agree, but only because you were involved.” He drags a finger across my cheek, wiping away a tear.
“No.” I smile up at him and lean into his hand. “It was beautiful because we were involved.”