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“I got the hint. Thanks for the tip.”
“Ready?” he asks, shooting me two thumbs up.
Before I can answer, he stomps to the front door and pushes the screen open so it creaks loudly, then slams the wood door closed behind him. Outside, I hear him yell, “Angelo, I’m gonna whip your skinny ass, man. You left me alone in the Steamy Swamp while running off like a fucking newb for what? To go fishing for a purple SMG!”
He keeps shouting as he gets further away, and I hear someone else grumpily tell him, “Jacob, shut the hell up!”
I smile because his plan seems to have worked. Maybe a little too well because I hear footsteps behind me. I whirl just in time to see Zoey’s face go from ‘I’m going to murder that boy’ to ‘what the hell’ to ‘oh!’
“Blake?” She rubs at her eyes disbelievingly and then realizes what she has on. More importantly, what she doesn’t have on . . . pants. Her sleep shirt barely reaches the tops of her thighs and her feet are covered in slouchy socks.
No ice-cold toes, I think, even though I’d happily warm her up from head to toe right now. Fuck, I’ve missed her. Texting here and there through Jacob hasn’t been nearly enough.
Not for me.
I want to see her expressions as she tells me about her day, gross as it might be. I want to hear the things she’s learned, no matter how silly or obscure, because I’m fascinated by what she finds interesting. I want to lick her pulse at her neck when it skyrockets as I touch her body and give her pleasure.
But she’s pulling at her shirt uncomfortably.
“Hey, Zo.” I keep my voice even and calm, holding my hands out as though she might attack me.
“What are you doing here?” she whispers snappishly. “This is totally against the rules!”
The reminder probably seems warranted, but I’m beyond caring at this point. For her, I truly have become a rebel who will throw caution to the wind and break rules if they don’t suit me.
I cross the room in three strides, backing her up against the wood-paneled wall. “I missed you.” And then, just in case she’s had any backslide and gotten unsure about us, I remind her why everything about us works with a kiss.
My lips meld over hers as I breathe her in. She freezes beneath me for a moment in which my heart stutters, afraid something has changed. But then she goes liquid, letting me invade. I explore her mouth with my tongue and suck at hers enticingly when she explores mine in return.
I pull at her shirt, perhaps a bit too roughly because I feel the thin cotton give way to my desire. Zoey doesn’t object, just pulls me toward the narrow length of counter in the kitchen, the two of us twisting and turning, almost dancing, until I have her right where we need to be.
She hops up, her delectable ass perched on the edge as I pull myself out, already rock hard and aching. I grip my cock tightly at the base, my free hand reaching for my wallet, but Zoey stops me.
“Now, please. I’m safe.”
I grip her jaw, forcing her unfocused eyes to mine. “Zo?” I need her to be sure. I’ve been inside her, know the heaven she holds, but if I feel her with nothing between us, there will be no going back for either of us. Ever.
There’s already no going back, my mind whispers. That’s true, but this is a very precise, specific showing of that, and she has to understand what she’s offering if I’m going to take her raw.
She twists her head in my hand, kissing the pad of my thumb before swirling her tongue there. “Yes.” The word is as clear as her eyes suddenly are. She knows. She understands.
My thumb still in her mouth, I lean into her, crowding her until I pin her shoulders against the upper cabinets and her head falls back to the fake wood with a soft thud. I take my thumb back, pulling her panties to the side to rub her own saliva over her clit before gathering her juices to spread them over her pussy as well.
She writhes, her body arching into my touch as I trace my hands roughly up her body to cup her breasts. She pulls the torn sleep shirt up and off, her hair falling freely over her shoulders, to give me better access. I’m not willing to let go of her for long enough to remove my own shirt, so I just shove the hem over my head. Zoey’s hands immediately cover my chest, her short nails digging into my muscles.
For once, I let go of my safe side. I thrust, both of us gasping as my cock slides deep into her. What’s better than heaven? I have a ridiculously vast vocabulary but don’t have words to describe this. Whatever it is, I’m feeling beyond-heaven right now. I grunt as I grind inside her, needing to feel every inch of her silky, wet walls grip me.
