Her cheeks turn red with the force of her outrage. “That is so sexist, Uncle Will, oh my god! I am an excellent driver—”
I make a small sound of disagreement, remembering the many times she almost killed me and her brother learning to drive. And the two times she failed her driving test.
“Dad!”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Both of you are unbelievable.” She stomps toward the stairs. “Ollie, get your shoes. Emmett, you’re not driving.”
Five minutes later, the front door closes, and we’re alone.
I gather the plates, taking them to the kitchen for something to do, and Will follows me, pressing his body against my back, his hands landing on my hips. He kisses my neck once and then my ear before whispering, “Don’t ever say I never did anything for you.”
“How is bribing my children with ice cream—”
He kisses me again, taking his time, moving down my neck, sucking hard enough that he might leave a mark, but nothing like the day he covered my neck in hickeys, leaving me to dress like it was the middle of winter for a week.
“I like you in this shirt,” he says, sliding his hand around to my stomach. The words shock me. He’s never given me a compliment before. Usually he’s insulting me. Even when we’re like this.
He hates me.
But before I can say anything about it, he’s pushing my pants down.In the kitchen.“What are you—”
“Stay there,” he says, holding me still when I try to turn around.
And then he drops to his knees behind me.
“Will.” I look over my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?”
He doesn’t even look up at me, keeping his eyes glued to my bare skin. “I’ve been thinking about this ass for months.”
“You— what?”
“You should see yourself in those damn scrubs.” He shakes his head, gripping my ass with both hands, spreading me before I can prepare myself for what he’s about to do. “Fuck.”
“I—that’s not—Will—” I’m gripping the counter with both hands, staring out the window as a car drives by, unaware of what’s happening inside my house. “What are you— are you going to—”
I can’t speak. Will’s hands are on me, spreading me open, and I’ve never been, no one’s ever—
“Relax,” he says, against my skin, kissing me where no one has ever kissed me before, and I don’t think relaxing is possible for me right now because he’s spreading me even more, and is that his—
I don’t have words for what’s happening.
I cling to the cold metal of the sink as Will’s tongue touches methere.I want to crawl out of my heated skin. To squirm away from the strange feeling. I want him to stop.
I want him toneverstop.
“Will,” I manage to say, and it doesn’t even sound like me when he presses his tongue against my hole, digging his fingers into my skin. “Stop— You can’t—”
“Mm-mm,” he says against me, but the vulnerability of this position is too much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my body or my mouth or anything. I want him to stop, I think.
ButGod.
This feels good.
I accept my fate, relaxing into him, letting him give me whatever he wants to give. I can be embarrassed about it later. Right now, I need more.
I reach down to grip my cock, pressed against the cabinets, and I know that if someone walked by the house right now, they’d see me, my face, as Will uses his tongue to dounspeakablethings.
