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She crawled over the remaining section of the cushion and straddled his lap. Fuck. She felt good.
His hands settled on her hips, pulling her snugly to him. She stroked his beard with both hands. Then she lowered her mouth to his.
The kiss started slow, a quick brush before their lips interlocked. When her tongue swept into his mouth, he groaned and flexed his fingers on her hips.
She rocked against him and took the kiss deeper. He tugged at the band she had holding her hair back and let it fall forward. The silky strands feathered across their cheeks. He threaded his fingers through her hair, brushed it back, and then tilted her head away so he could trail kisses across her jaw and down her neck.
He sank his teeth into the flesh where her pulse throbbed against his lips. She moaned and pressed herself harder into his lap. He moved his other hand to the hem of her shirt.
“This okay?”
“God, yes,” she whispered, shoving his hand up under her shirt.
Her skin was warm and smooth. He reached her breast and palmed it. Her nipple was hard through her bra. He pushed the elastic up and gave her nipple a slight pinch.
“Fuck,” she said, throwing her head back and rocking against him.
Suddenly, a loud ring broke the silence. He paused, his finger and thumb still gripping her nipple.
She lowered her face. “You need to get that?”
“Fuck no.” He pulled her down for another kiss and moved to touch her other breast. The ringing stopped but then started almost immediately again. They ignored it.
Then London’s phone buzzed in her back pocket, the vibrations sending a sensation up his thighs.
She laughed against his lips. “That’s gotta be Bronte.”
He grunted as his phone started up again. With one arm wrapped around London’s waist, he lifted and pulled the phone from his pocket. He hefted a sigh and answered. “What?”
“Oh my God. Is everything okay? I called the shop and you didn’t answer and you weren’t answering your phone. I tried London once, but if you guys were done, I didn’t want to wake her because it’s so late.”
No, they were far from done.“But it’s okay to wake me?”
“Psh. Are you going to tell me you were asleep?”
“No.”
“The weather app is showing horrible snow, so I won’t be leaving till morning.”
“Okay,” he answered, and squeezed London’s breast again.
“How did it go?”
“Fine.”
“Is she still there?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you please use more than one word to tell me what’s going on? I’m worried.”
London smiled at him and climbed off his lap, straightening her bra and shirt as she did. Then she patted his cheek.
He sighed again. He’d get even with Bronte for cock-blocking him, even if it was unknowingly. He shifted his dick in his pants and focused. “We worked on her tree topper and got a few done. She helped with the front window, so it’s all painted.”
“Jeez, dude. She’s a paying customer. You’re not supposed to put her to work.”
“She volunteered to paint the window.”
