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I couldn’t hold on any longer. I screamed his name as my body shook wildly, as he continued kissing me recklessly with no regard for my orgasm.
When my shaking finally slowed, he moved my legs from his shoulders and stood up from the couch.
I opened my eyes and saw him walking toward his bedroom.
Unable to sit up, I leaned over and grabbed my phone from the coffee table. There was one missed call.
Jonathan?
Corey returned to the living room with a couple of warm cloths and sat next to me. Gently spreading my legs apart, he kept his eyes on mine as he cleaned me up.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded and slowly sat up, but he pushed me back down.
“I’m not finished with you.” He smirked.
“What?”
“You heard me.” He glanced at my exposed pussy again. “I’m not done with you yet.” He spread my legs again, but the doorbell rang before he could continue.
“You’re holding another meeting tonight?” I asked.
“No.” He sighed and stood to his feet. “One of the team members probably left something again.” He helped me pull my jeans up to my waist before walking away from me.
“Jonathan?” He sounded surprised as he opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I need a reason?” He walked right into the house, and I fastened the button on my jeans. Then I placed a pillow over the new, wet spot on the couch.
“I called you both, but you didn’t pick up,” Jonathan said. “So, I figured your service lines were busy or something.”
“Yes, busy.” Corey shut the door and followed him into the living room.
“Hey, Hayley.” Jonathan smiled at me. “Are you sleeping any better these days?”
“Yes. A lot better.”
“Good.” He took a seat and let out a breath. “I’ve been so pre-occupied with the wedding, that I realized I haven’t hung out with the two other closest people in my life. Outside of when I see you at work, that is. Do you mind if I stay for dinner?”
“Translation: You and Claire are fighting about something stupid right now, and you stopped by because my house is closest to wherever she currently is?” Corey crossed his arms.
My brother smiled. “I prefer the term arguing, not fighting.”
Corey laughed. “I figured.”
“She’s being very difficult about this fucking wedding,” he said. “I just want to get married.”
“And she just wants it to be perfect.” I stood up. “I was going to make grilled chicken bagels and salad tonight. Is that good enough for you?”
“Grilled chicken bagels?” he asked. “You know Corey is a master at cooking real food, right?”
I looked at Corey in surprise. “No, I didn’t. Are you saying I can’t cook real food?”
“I’m saying you should let him teach you how to make the type of things that weren’t served in your coffee and wine bar,” he said. “I learned quite a few things from him after he hacked into a chef’s master course.”
“You’re just saying I can’t cook.”
“I would never.” His phone sounded in his pocket, and he stood to his feet. “Do you mind if I take this out on your terrace, Corey? It’s Claire.”
