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Kaylee play swats me. "He's not that bad."
"He's not?"
She nods.
"News to me."
"You really think he's awful?"
"He has moments." I motion to the TV. "It's my turn to pick."
"Oh no. It is. How incoherent are we talking?"
"We'll see." I slide my arm around her waist. To lead her to the couch. But I'm not doing that.
I'm sliding my hand under her shirt.
Pressing my palm against her bare skin.
"Brendon..." She sighs as her hips rock against mine. Her fingers skim my thigh. It's a soft touch, but it's enough to wake up every nerve in my body.
I pin her to the kitchen counter. "We shouldn't." But I'm already undoing her top button.
"I know." She rocks her hips, sighing as she rubs against my hard-on.
"Em just went to sleep."
"I'll be quiet. I promise."
I get to the last button. My hands plant on her lower back. One slides between her shoulder blades. It unclasps her bra.
She shrugs her shirt and her bra off her shoulders.
She's topless in the middle of the fucking kitchen.
That smart part of me—the one that's supposed to remind me this is a bad idea—is gone.
I'm too fucking enraptured by the sight of her.
"Fuck, Kay." I undo her ponytail and slide my fingers through her hair. My palm cups the back of her head. I pull her into a slow, deep kiss.
She groans into my mouth.
I drag my lips down her neck. Over her collarbone. Over her breast.
She groans as I take her nipple into my mouth.
Fuck, she tastes good.
I toy with her. Flicks of my tongue. The scrape of my teeth. Sucking on that tender bud.
Her groan is music, but it's way too loud.
I bring my hand to her mouth. Slide my thumb between her lips.
She sucks on the pad of my finger.
Groans against my flesh.
