Page 25 of Knot So Social

I trail my hands over her shoulders to find the zipper on the back of her navy dress. After easing it down, I massage her soft skin before sliding the sleeves lower on her arms. She’s not wearing a bra, which is surprising given she’s still in her work clothes.

But exciting.

Her nipples peak, turning hard as stone.

“Oh, definitely here,” I murmur, rubbing the points in circles.

She swears under her breath and digs my cock out. “Did Jeremy get the bigger share?” she muses softly as she palms my length.

I freeze, hands cupped around her breasts. Surely I misheard. “What?”

“Oh, nothing much.” She shakes her head, silky black hair covering her eyes as she glances down. “Just wondering if Jeremy . . . has a bigger dick?”

My throat constricts. Tracey’s never had a good thing to say about Jeremy, so why bring him up now? Are we still fighting about the phone call last night? A quivery sensation runs through my veins.

“What a weird thing to wonder,” I say, choosing my words cautiously. “But yes, as a matter of fact he does. I hope you aren’t complaining about this one, though?”

I flex the hardening length, making her smile.

Better. This will be good for us. Smooth things over, take our relationship back to how wonderful it was in the beginning.

Eyes on my cock, Tracey slides off my lap onto her knees. She tugs on my sweats and I lift my ass so she can slip them down. When she leans in and presses her pert mouth to the tip, I groan.

“Fuck!” I mutter. Now that I think about it, it’s been five days since we last made love. That’s way too long, considering how much like rabbits we’ve been until now.

With one hand I caress her hair, and the other I reach between my legs to play with her tits, stroking them in a way that makes her moan. The soft sounds blend with the stove exhaust and whatever’s playing low on the TV.

“Tracey, you’re so fucking sexy,” I mutter as the blood burns in my groin. “How’d I ever get a girl as beautiful as you?”

She slaps my thigh playfully, her mouth too full. I pry her loose from my dick, an old game we’ve played for years where she refuses to let go. When I get her mouth free, I lean down to kiss her soundly.

An odd scent rises off her; cold, salty, and edged with seafood like a fish market refrigerator mixing with her natural hibiscus tones. It’s underpinned with sweat. When I search for a second whiff, all I get is fried onion.

“What were you making for dinner?” I ask between kisses.

“Prawn and coconut stir fry,” she huffs, fingers digging into my thighs.

“Ah, so that’s what I can smell.”

She smiles up at me and presses me back into the couch, leaning in to suckle up my cock once more. I groan and grip the armrests as my first hint of orgasm tingles in my balls.

I glance up over her head and what I see smothers every pleasure. The news reporter sits at her desk, with an image of wrecked cars behind her.

“Last night, a three-car crash in Knox Park closed down the off ramp for over an hour after a bakery van ploughed through a red light and hit another car. A third car ran into the back of the van. All four people in the vehicles have been taken to hospital, some with serious injuries.”

There, smoking in the middle, lies Jeremy’s truck, belly-up. My blood grows cold.

“Holy shit!” I push Tracey’s head away. “That’s Jeremy’s truck!”

“Who?” Tracey murmurs, wiping her mouth.

“My brother’s.”

She whips around. “Are you sure?”

I scoff. “I’d know that paint job anywhere.”

Dark forest green with flames running down the side. He painstakingly painted the graphics himself eight years ago, even though it took all summer long.