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I undo her jeans and push them to her thighs.
She sighs. Arches her back. Presses her ass against me.
Fuck, those cotton panties. Sweet. Like her.
I push them off her hips.
Slide my hand up her thigh.
Fuck, I need to be inside her.
I bring one hand to her mouth, to muffle her groans, and rub her with the other.
She shudders. Shakes. Nips at my fingertips.
But she keeps her hands planted on the counter.
“Good girl.” I suck on her earlobe.
“Brendon,” she groans into my hand.
She’s wet. Ready. But I need her on the edge. I need to be the only fucking thing she wants. I need my name to be the only thought in her head.
I rub her slowly. Softly.
She rocks her ass against my crotch. Driving me out of my fucking mind with her soft flesh.
Still, I toy with her.
I rub her until she’s shaking. Until her fingers are digging into the counter. Until my hand is only barely muffling her groans.
She’s about to come.
This is exactly where I want her.
I pull a condom from my back pocket and push my jeans to my knees. Then the boxers.
Her bottoms are still at her knees. They’re binding her legs.
“Please,” she whispers. “Fuck me. Now.”
“Quiet.”
She nods. “I can. I will. I promise.”
I bring one hand to her pelvis. Pull her body against mine.
She sighs as my cock presses against her ass.
Fuck, that feels good.
Her flesh against mine.
Nothing in the way. I need that. Soon.
But right now—
I bring the foil packet to my teeth and tear it open.
Slowly, I roll the condom over my cock.
Then I place one hand over her mouth and the other on her hip.
She leans forward, arching her back, presenting herself to me.
I’m about to fuck Kay in the fucking kitchen.
And there isn’t a single voice in my head telling me it’s a bad idea.
She wakes up a reckless part of me.
A happy part of me.
I slide a finger into her mouth. She sucks. Greedy. Eager.
My tip strains against her.
Slowly, I slide inside her.
Fuck, she feels good.
I drive into her again and again.
Harder.
Faster.
Hard enough to pin her to the counter.
She sucks on my finger.
Groans against the digit.
Fuck, the feel of her soft body against mine.
Of her groans against my flesh.
It’s fucking heaven.
I fill her with steady thrusts. Again and again.
She pulls back to gasp.
I claw at her back.
She rocks her hips. Groans my name.
It’s a whisper. But it’s enough to send me over the edge.
I bring my lips to her neck to suck on her skin.
Thrusting into her as I come.
I spill every drop.
Fuck.
It’s like I haven’t come in months.
Every part of me feels good. Relaxed. Spent.
But I need her coming too.
I muffle her with one hand. Slide the other down her torso.
And I stroke her. Harder and harder. Until she’s groaning against my palm.
There. I keep that same pressure. That same pace.
I stroke her until she’s coming on my hand, groaning against my palm, clutching at the tile.
I keep her pressed against the counter.
And I tilt her head and bring my lips to hers.
And I kiss her like I’ll never get enough of her.
Because I won’t.
Not ever.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kaylee
“You sound happy,” Grandma says. “Boy problems must be over.”
I am happy. At least about the boy problems. The continuing vagueness about her condition—not so much. “It’s good. He’s… we’re good.”
“Good how?”
I fall onto my bed on my back. Press my cell to my ear. It’s just good. What else is there to explain? “He forgave me and we—”
“Had makeup sex?”
“Grandma! I swear. You’re a pervert.”
“Everyone’s a pervert, Kay-bear. It’s just I don’t give a fuck about hiding it. You won’t either when you’re my age.”
“Maybe.” A lot of my thoughts are about sex. Dirty sex. And so are Brendon’s. And Em is always talking about it. And Dean is obviously dirty as hell. “There’s merit to that argument.”
“I hate to be a parent—”
“Then don’t.”
“But if your mother finds out about this—”
“I know. But she can’t. I can’t afford to rent my own place. And she and Dad can’t afford to cover my expenses. This is the only way.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
That’s a strong possibility. Brendon doesn’t want complicated. And I’m complicated. This whole situation is hopelessly complicated. “I’ll figure it out.”
“You have somewhere to stay if you need to?”
“Why would I?”
“You never know with men.”
“I know.”
“You have a place or not?”
“Yeah.” Ryan, Dean, and Walker have all made blanket you can crash at my place anytime offers. And plenty of my coworkers like me enough to offer their couch. “I have places.”
“Good. Then tell me more about the boy.”
“After you help me pick a weekend to visit. The prices are crazy for the next two weeks. But all the weekends after are good. All the way until Thanksgiving. And after. But you won’t talk me out of coming before Thanksgiving.”
“You should be focusing on school.”
