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“Uh, thanks, I think.” Laughing, I flick a piece of pancake at his face, but moving fast, he easily catches it in his mouth and leaves me speechless.
He snorts at my facial expression and cuts up the last of his own food. “Eat your breakfast, Kit. You do not want to start a food fight with me. You can’t win.”
After finishing our food and cleaning up the kitchen, he stops between my legs and takes my hands. “Come with me?”
I stand until our chests touch. “Where?”
“To the shower.”
Yes please.
Bobby flips on the taps and the room fills with steam within minutes. Placing his hands on my hips and drawing me closer, his solid length rests against my lower stomach and sends my nerves haywire. First time or twentieth, he makes me nervous.
Slowly, he lowers my shorts and slides his calloused hands along the sensitive skin of my thighs. Tearing off his own clothes, he stands and slowly backs me into the hot shower.
Warm water pulses down on my back and relieves sore muscles both from a long night of pleasure, and from long weeks of training. He pumps liquid soap into his hands and methodically washes me: shoulders, chest, ribs, stomach. Lowering to his knees, he washes my thighs, my calves and feet. Slowing himself and sending me into a panting mess, he washes my buttocks, the backs of my legs and ankles. His strong hands slide up between my legs, and I find myself mentally screaming that he just get to the damn point.
I hold my breath in anticipation as he presses a kiss to my butt cheek. Then my upper thigh. My hands shake against the shower tile.
He taps my leg. “Turn around, baby.” His voice is husky, his hands strong and commanding. He places his open palms on my thighs, and before I can prepare myself, buries his face between my legs. His tongue flicks over my throbbing clit, and I expel all the breath I forgot I was holding.
My hands instantly fly to his hair to hold him hostage. I’ll die if he stops. I’ll die if he doesn’t. I grind my pelvis into his face and whimper. With a sexy growl, the vibrations from his mouth send zings of pleasure rolling up through my belly.
Shamelessly, I ride his face, and mercifully, he brings a hand up and pushes a finger deep inside me. I cry out on a sob. “That feels so good. Don’t stop, Bobby. Please, don’t stop.”
He doesn’t verbally answer me. He simply adds a second finger, then brazenly, a third. He suckles on my clit and turns me into a quivering mess of nerves. He brings me right to the edge time and time again, but each time I prepare to step off the ledge, he backs away and leaves me hanging.
“Bobby,” I whimper. “Let me come.” I ride his hand wildly. “Please let me come.”
Hooking his finger inside me and dragging it out slowly, my breath rushes out on a strangled cry of pleasure. Tearing his hand away long before I’m done, I cry out, but he doesn’t leave me for long.
Picking me up and slamming me against the warm tile, he thrusts deep inside me and sends me crashing over the ledge in a sobbing mess. My teeth clamp down on his shoulder and draws a hiss from between his teeth. “Oh God, you’re so tight, baby. So tight. You feel so good.”
He slams my back against the tile over and over again. We’re all limbs and tongues, hands and orgasms. I press my face to the arch of his neck as he uses my body the way we both so desperately want him to.
“Oh God,” he groans as his hips still and his dick twitches inside me. His orgasm has his voice cracking and his strong hands bruising my legs. And yet, it feels so amazing. “Oh God,” he whispers. Breathlessly, he lets us slide to the floor, curling our bodies together, and peppers kisses along my collarbone. “Kit. All mine.”
* * *
After getting dried and dressed – minus ripped panties – we finally climb back into the Rav and head back toward my house. We sit in a comfortable silence as the radio plays softly, and when he isn’t shifting gears, he holds my hand, or my thigh, or he kisses my knuckles.
I was comfortable with him all night, even without clothes; even at my most exposed, I was comfortable, but now that we head back across town, nerves attack me anew. What happens when we get there? Does he want space? Does he want his brothers to know about us? Will he be too shy to tell them? Will I be? Uncertainties and insecurities sneak up on me as easily as shadows in the dark.
“Will Jimmy be mad he had to stay all night?”
His snort relieves some of my nerves. “No, but he’ll tease you mercilessly. Be prepared.”
Shit, he’s right.
“Babe, its fine.” He presses his lips to my knuckles. “He won’t say a word, I’ll talk to him.”
“No, that’s okay. Jimmy doesn’t worry me. But are you okay with him teasing? I mean, you may not want people to know… that we spent the night together.”
I’m so lame.
His glaring eyes whip around. “The fuck I don’t. The world already knew I wanted you. You were the last one to get on board.” His jaw clenches angrily. “You promised, Kit. You promised we’d be a team. We’re together, and we’re a team. No take backs.”
Hurt burns in his eyes and my stomach swirls with remorse. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant…” I groan and run fingers through my hair. “Look, I’m finding it hard to reconcile the fact a guy like you would be interested in someone like me. But–” I hurry on when he narrows his eyes, “but, I’m sorry. I love you, and you love me. So we’re good. I promise we’re good.”
