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“Are you satisfied?” I ask, smirking when York throws me a disgusted look.
“Excuse me, when have I ever left our girlunsatisfied?”
Pen giggles. “I’m very satisfied, thank you. Why do you ask?”
“Just making sure…” My voice trails off as Pen looks up at me, her fingers feathering over my two-day old stubble. “What?” I question.
“Nothing, I just love us, that’s all,” she replies, and despite her concern for Dax, there’s a lightness in her eyes I’ve not seen in a while.
“I love us too,” I reply, lowering my face to hers and brushing my lips against her cheek. “I’m sorry it’s taken us so fucking long to rectify what’s been missing.”
“Don’t apologise to me. You’ve nothing to apologise for. I’ve been happy. Iamhappy. I love our life, and what we’ve built together. You’re my heart, my family. Besides we have the rest of our lives together to love each other, to laugh, to–”
“Fuck?” York interrupts.
“I was going to say to dance, but that too,” she replies with a laugh.
I draw her back into my arms, wanting to hold her close, needing the reassurance of her hug. Never thought I’d be a needy fucker, but when it comes to Pen, I definitely need her. Pretty sure the others feel the same way too. Not sure how we ever walked away from Pen, and then stayed away for three years, but I’m sure as fuck glad we swallowed our pride and made our way back to her.
“Oh, I love this song,” Pen says, drawing me back into the moment asCry to Mestarts to play on the radio. “It’s from Dirty Dancing.”
“Isn’t that Camden’s favourite movie?” York asks, as Pen starts swaying her body to the music.
“And Asia’s I think,” Pen adds, looking up at me with a soft smile as I lower my hands to her waist and she runs her palms up my arms, grasping the back of my neck. We stare at each other, bending our knees as we dance, mimicking the scene we both know so well.
"Pretty surewe'veall watched it a few times too," I tease, a playful grin spreading across my face as we stare at each other. She doesn't need to say a word because as her fingers play with the short hair at the nape of my neck, I already know what she wants.
"Dance with me?"
"What here?" I reply, just like Johnny did in the movie.
Pen bites on her lip. "Here."
"Oh, fuck yes," York says, catching on quick as we re-enact the scene we all know so well.
Tucking my leg between Pen’s thighs and with my hands gripping her rib cage either side of her breasts, I slowly lower her backwards. Our hips press together with the movement. There’s no mistaking my hard-on as her hands slide over my shoulders and down my arms, and she drops her head back, exposing her beautiful neck.
Fuck I want her.
As she slowly rises, York rounds the kitchen island and leans against the countertop, watching us both intensely. Our eyes meet and I see the same love and passion reflected back in them as I draw Pen tightly against my chest, my fingers sliding into her damp hair as we dance.
“I want you,” I murmur, my lips warm against her ear.
I know I’m being greedy, but I can’t fucking help myself. When she’s like this, relaxed and warm in my arms, not a stitch of make-up on and wearing her sleep shorts, I can’t help but want her.
“Then have me,” she replies breathily, as I fold over her, loving how she feels in my arms as we rock to the music.
Smiling into her hair, my lips glide down her neck as she exposes it to me. Kissing a trail of heat across her skin, I feel my heart pounding against my rib cage, but instead of taking the opportunity to start something right this second, I whisper, “Keep dancing.”
She smiles softly as I lean into her, urging her backwards. Taking the cue, she drops her head back once more as I lean over her, then pulls back upright as we mirror the movement. We rock like that backwards and forwards until York steps up behind Pen, his hands finding her hips as our eyes lock.
“You’ve forgotten a step,” he says, crouching slightly, as he runs his hand down the back of her left thigh and hooks his hand behind her knee.
“Pretty sure we were getting to that part,” Pen says, laughing softly as York guides her leg over my hip, releasing it to me. I grind against her, feeling the heat of her pussy through the thin material of her sleep shorts.
“Fuck,” Pen moans, pressing her lips against the base of my neck, as York squeezes her arse.
“The island,” I say, glancing at the surface, and the bottle of wine and glass in my way.
