I’m due to go back home on Sunday, and if I keep working like I’ve been doing the past three days, I feel pretty confident I’ll have enough down that I can finish details in my studio. I’ll just be sure to take plenty of pictures for reference.
It’s nearly nine o’clock when my phone dings from the table next to me. I’m still outside, listening to the water and the rustling of the leaves as the wind blows, lost in my own thoughts.
Midge: Hey, how’s it going?
I smile when I read Midge’s message, and type back a quick reply.
Cillian: It’s going. What’re you up to?
Midge: Just watching TV in bed. Are you painting now? I don’t want to interrupt.
Cillian: Not painting. Just sitting outside.
She doesn’t respond right away, so while I wait, I get up and go inside. In the kitchen, I put together a club sandwich, and pour some chips from the bag onto the plate, then take it to the couch.
My phone lights up.
Midge: Oh okay. Just making sure you were still alive and well.
I chuckle and wipe my hands off on my jeans before answering.
Cillian: Glad you’re worried about me. I’m fine, though. Just in the zone. Determined to make sure you love it.
Midge: Love what?
Midge: Oh. The painting. Ha-ha. I’m sure I will.
Cillian: What did you think I was talking about? Because I already know you love something else…
Midge: Pft. You don’t know anything.
I take a few minutes to scarf down the rest of my food, then place the plate on the table and start typing.
Cillian: I know you love how I fuck you.
Midge: It’s all right.
I laugh out loud.
Cillian: I know you wouldn’t say that to my face.
Midge: I would.
Cillian: Then I’d prove to you that you were lying.
Midge: How so?
Cillian: Oh, I have my ways. Many, many ways. And before I would be done, you’d be screaming you love it, and you’d beg for more once it was over.
Cillian: So, tell me, do you not want me to fuck you right now?
She doesn’t respond. I keep watching the phone, waiting for those three little dots to appear, hoping I didn’t go too far. I’ve never had a friends with benefits situation before. I’ve had girlfriends, and I’ve had hook-ups. Never slept with a friend, so I don’t really know the rules.
Midge: I want it.
A smile creeps across my face.
Cillian: Then it’s too bad we aren’t together.
Midge: Yes, especially after teasing me like that, and getting me all worked up.
Cillian: That was not teasing. It’s not like I sent you a video of me stroking my cock.
Before she can respond, I call her. She answers before the first ring can finish.
“Hello?”
“It’s not like I told you that just thinking about fucking you gets my dick hard.”
I hear her suck in a breath. “Oh really?”
“Mm,” I groan into the receiver. “And I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it either.”
“Good.”
“I can’t wait until you’re back in town. I mean, I know you’re enjoying it up there, but…”
“I’d prefer being in you. Don’t worry, I’ll visit you as soon as I get back.”
She giggles. “I don’t mean to sound so sex-crazed.”
“Sex-crazed is fine. I don’t mind sex-crazed. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m the same way.”
Another laugh floats across the line. “Yeah, you’re very different than I imagined.”
“You’ve imagined having sex with me?” I ask with a laugh. “And how was I in your imagination?”
“That’s not what I meant,” she replies with a nervous laugh. “I’m not saying I’ve thought about how you’d fuck me, I just mean, the Cillian I’ve been friends with all these years is very different from the Cillian that fucks me.”
“Well, yeah, that makes sense.”
“Yeah, but I’m a pretty vulgar person, even around friends,” she says with a laugh. “You kind of know what you’re getting with me. I’ve been vocal about sex in front of all of you, too. You’re usually pretty quiet.”
I chuckle. “So, what? You thought I’d be a prude?”
“Maybe not a prude, but not as vocal and explicit.”
“Ah, and now you know we’re cut from the same cloth.”
She laughs. “I guess so. I’m just more vocal about things publicly.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been one to talk about my sex life.”
“You’ve also been in a relationship, so it’s a bit different.’
“Yeah, I guess so. And you’re not a relationship type of person.”
“Exactly.”
That thought twirls around in my brain for a second. I want to question why that is, but I get the feeling it’s a subject she wants to avoid. I vaguely remember her having a boyfriend a while back, but back then she wasn’t visiting Royce’s bar like she does now, and I only saw her around town from time to time, so I don’t know the details.
“Well, I guess I should go to sleep,” she says. “Some of us have to go to work in the morning.”
“Hey, I’ll be working.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have a boss who will tear into your ass if you’re two minutes late.”
“Ass tearing, huh? Doesn’t sound fun.”
She laughs. “It’s not. I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night.”
“Good night, Midge.”
22
Midge
“TGIF!” I say, throwing my hand in the air as I wave goodbye to everybody in the bank.
“You’re leaving earlier than usual,” London says, coming around from behind the teller’s spot. “You’re usually leaving an hour after closing time.”
“I know, but I have to go to my parents’ house. Mom called last night and said she wanted me to come over to help her with something. She was very vague about it, so now I’m curious.”
“Well, all right. See you tomorrow?”
“Yep, you know it.”
I fly through the glass doors, trotting out to my little Mini Cooper, and roll my windows down. I drive to my parents with music blaring, and me singing at the top of my lungs. That’s usually how I drive when I’m alone, and sometimes London gets to be my one and only guest to my one woman concert.
My parents’ four bedroom, ranch style house comes into view at the end of Brighton Boulevard, dead center of the cul-de-sac. It’s your perfect little family home. You’d picture the perfect couple living here with their perfect son and daughter, and well-behaved dog. But growing up, it was only me, and I was far from perfect. And we didn’t have pets. But since I’ve been out of the house, they’ve become those annoying dog parents. They have one shih-tzu, and they make sure he’s in their Christmas cards, sometimes the Christmas card is just him wearing a little Christmas sweater. And he’s a menace.
When I get to the door, Mom appears, pulling me inside while shushing me. “Shh, come in.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I whisper. “Why are we being quiet?”
Mom looks over her shoulder. “I have to talk to you about your dad.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Follow me,” she says, still whispering and pulling me along to the kitchen. “I have a suspicion.”
“What?”
I study my mom’s face, looking for signs that she’s been crying. There’s no way my dad would cheat on her. It can’t be that.
Her brown eyes look free of the redness that usually accompanies cry fests. She tucks her straight, black hair behind her ear, glances over her shoulder one more time, and then bites down on her bottom lip.
“I think he’s planning a surprise party.”
I sag in relief. “Oh my God, Mom, you had me thinking it was something crazy!”<
br />
“Shh,” she says, swiping her hand at me. “I don’t want him to hear us.”
I relax, leaning against the small, rectangular island in the kitchen. “Why would that be a problem?”
She gives me a pointed look. “Do you remember what your father planned for my fortieth birthday?”
“Remind me.”
Mom folds her arms on the island. “That’s when he thought I’d like to celebrate my birthday at the bowling alley.” She widens her eyes at me. “The bowling alley, Margaret. At forty.”
I press my lips together, trying to keep from laughing. She only ever uses my full name when she’s serious. She hated that party, but she loves my dad so much, she never said anything. She was grateful that he had remembered, because she has friends whose husbands forget their birthdays, but she hates bowling.
“Oh yeah, didn’t you bowl a forty-five that day?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “We can’t have another bowling alley birthday for my fiftieth.”
“Okay, so what do you want me to do? Ask him what he’s up to?”
“Yes! Just try to sneak in some input. Remind him how much I love to dress up. Go somewhere nice. He can plan a dinner with our friends over at the Blue Velvet.”
“Oh yeah, Jon had a birthday party there not that long ago. It’s really nice.”
“Perfect! Just bring that up.”
“You sure? Maybe he’ll plan this one to be at that putt-putt golf place.”
She stands up straight and pins me with another look. “Not funny.”
“Well, where is he?”
“I think he’s in his office with Kiko.” She walks to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of lemonade. “Want something to drink?”
“Sure. I was wondering why the little demon wasn’t in here yapping at me.”
“Oh, Kiko is an angel.” She pulls out the pitcher and places it on the counter, then reaches for some glasses. “So, what’s been going on with you? Mom told me you went up to the lake house recently.”
“Oh yeah. I went up with London and some other friends.”
“Mom mentioned Cillian. How’s he doing?”
She hands me a glass, and I take a sip before answering. This is my mom we’re talking about here. She can read me like a book. “Oh, he’s fine. Just broke up with his girlfriend recently. Been struggling with his paintings, so I told him he could go up there and get away for a bit. Maybe it’ll help him.”
“Well, that’s nice,” she says, taking a drink. “He’s such a good boy.”
I laugh. “Hardly a boy, Mom.”
“Well, I know, but you’re still my baby girl even though you’re making your way to thirty.”
I raise a hand. “Let’s calm down. I’m only twenty-seven. I have a few years before thirty arrives.”
Mom laughs, the lines around her eyes becoming more prominent. She looks damn good for fifty. Not that fifty is old, but I can only hope I age like her. Though, I guess that means I should start walking every day like she does. And drink more water. Maybe even eat better.
“So, he’s single now?”
It takes me a second to realize she’s talking about Cill. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Hmm.”
“Why? You thinkin’ about cheating on Dad?” I joke.
“No, just wondering if you’re finally gonna make a move.”
“What?” I nearly choke on my lemonade.
“Oh, please, Midge. Don’t play dumb with me.” She grins. “You’ve liked that boy since you were a teenager.”
“Mom, I liked him when I was a teenager. Not since I was a teenager. But I also liked Brian who lived at the end of the street back then, too.”
I wonder if she believes the lie I just told.
“Mm. But you spent the weekend with him at the lake house?”
“Not just him.”
“That lake house has magic in it. It’s where I fell in love with your father.”
I smile at her. I can’t wait to show her the painting. She’s going to cry, for sure. Even if she is at a putt-putt golf course or bowling alley.
“I know, but I’m not in love with anybody.”
“Yet.” I tilt my head at her, pursing my lips. “Okay, Okay,” she says. “How was it out there? Still beautiful? I need to make some time to go back.”
And it’s then that I come up with the best idea. Her party should be at the lake house. Now I need to talk to dad and my grandparents. Her birthday isn’t for another month and a half, so hopefully we can make it work.
I give her the rundown on our weekend at the lake, minus a few details about sex with Cillian and body shots.
He’s due back the day after tomorrow, and I really hope he was being serious about coming to see me, because I have been thinking about it non-stop.
I know I said we should just leave things at the lake to preserve our friendship, but I’m addicted. I wasn’t supposed to text him the other day either, but I couldn’t control myself.
Cillian Kingston is changing me.
23
Cillian
It’s almost noon when I leave the lake house, which puts me right back in Gaspar around three thirty. My first stop is my house where I drop everything off, including the painting-in-progress.
My second stop is Midge’s house. Besides the time I dropped her off after she told me about Zoe, I’ve only been by a few times. All I remember about her house is that it looks like a little cottage that might be shown in a Disney movie. It’s set far away from the road and surrounded by trees.
The last time I was there was almost two years ago, dropping her off after she’d had too much to drink at Royce’s bar, and I made a comment about her little cottage. She said she was Snow White, then stumbled into the house and closed the door.
I texted her before I left the lake house and made sure she knew to expect me. I’ve been thinking about this moment for days now, and wasn’t about to show up just for her not to be here.
I rap on the door three times, then I hear her footsteps approach. She doesn’t open the door right away, which makes me wonder what’s going on, on the other side. Maybe she’s nervous. Maybe she’s having second thoughts.
But then the door opens and I’m greeted by her smiling face.
“Hey, Snow White.”
She furrows her brow, cocking her head to the side. “What?” She laughs, stepping back to let me in.
“You don’t remember?” I take a few steps in and turn around. “A couple years back when I brought you home, you drunkenly said you were Snow White after I said your house looked like a Disney cottage.”
She closes the door, laughing. “I don’t remember that. Want a drink or something? I have Sprite and grape juice. Or water, of course.”
“I’m good. Thanks.”
She stands in the small entryway, between the living room and kitchen, seemingly unsure of what to do. In two strides, I’m toe to toe with her. I let my eyes roam over her face before they travel down past the delicate curve of her jaw.
She’s wearing a simple black top covered with floral print, and a loose, black skirt that stops several inches above her knees. I reach out and touch the side of her thigh, then let my hand move up, cupping her bare ass cheek.
“No underwear?” I question, bringing my other hand under her skirt and pulling her into me.
“Figured I’d make things a little easier,” she replies angling her head up to look me in the eye.
I lean down and cover her mouth with mine. My tongue swipes across her lips before dipping inside when she releases a breathy moan. Midge reaches around and splays her fingers across my back, coming up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss.
She kisses me with passionate desperation. She’s been thinking about this just as long as I have. The faint taste of peppermint lingers on her tongue as I suck it into my mouth.
Our hands explore each other’s bodies as the need for more grows. She slips her hands under the hem of my shirt, touching every inch of sk
in she can get her hands on. The desire to touch and kiss more of her, to connect our bodies and turn her into a quivering mess of satiated bliss makes me pull away.
“Where do you wanna go?”
“Room,” she breathes, her fingertips touching her swollen lips.
I follow her down the hall and into the bedroom at the end of it. Once inside, I make quick work of removing my shoes, jeans, and T-shirt. Midge sits on the edge of the bed and watches like I’m a stripper about to give her a lap dance.
“Are you planning on staying dressed?” I ask, taking a step toward the bed.
She grins. “Maybe.”
“Maybe, huh? I don’t think so.”
I pull the bottom of her shirt up and over her head, revealing a black, lace bra. “This is nice,” I say, running a finger over the swell of her breast and then down to the nipple threatening to break free. I gently squeeze the tip between my fingers, and she lets her head drop back with a moan.
My fingers dance softly down her stomach before sliding under her skirt. I palm her pussy, letting my middle finger slide up and down, opening her up for me.
She gasps, letting herself fall to her back. With one knee on the bed, I lean over her and watch her face contort with pleasure as my finger dips inside her pussy.
I penetrate her with my finger for only a minute or so, and then I yank the skirt down her legs and toss it aside. She parts her thighs, ready for me.
I get off the bed to retrieve the condom from my pants, but as I’m about to get back on the bed, she stops me.
“Wait. Before you put that on, I want to…”
Midge blushes, her eyes flickering down to my cock.
I push the navy blue material down over my thighs and step to the side of the bed. She scrambles across then sits in front of me, taking my shaft in her hand.
She begins slowly, her fist loose around me, and her thumb grazing the underside of my cockhead. I watch as she comes forward, opening her mouth and then closing her lips around the tip.
Truth or Dare (Kingston Brothers Book 2) Page 12
