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Then just like that, she did, her cry muffled against my hand, her body trembling with the orgasm as it coursed through her.
Afterward, she rolled on her side, facing away from me, and I scooted in behind her, my arm draped over her.
And we passed the fuck out.
Crazy shit aside, it was one of the best fucking days of my life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Shale
“I thought he was joking!” I said, standing wide-eyed in the kitchen in one of Junior’s shirts, drinking my coffee, when the buzzer sounded, and Barry went to see who it was.
Junior’s mom.
Just like his father said.
“I warned you,” Junior said, smiling at me. “It’s gonna be fucking never-ending. Especially now that you met my dad and uncles.”
“I only met one uncle,” I said.
“Uncle Johnnie was on the roof,” he reminded me.
“Oh, right. Okay. Ah. I need to… not be walking around in just your shirt,” I said, putting my cup down.
“I like you in my shirt,” he said.
“Yeah, but yourmomwon’t.”
“Doll, she knows I have sex,” Junior said, smiling.
“Well, she doesn’t need proof of it!” I said, rushing away as Barry let her up.
We’d sent Barry out for creamer first thing this morning.
He’d barely been out of the door before Junior grabbed me and bent me over the cold kitchen island.
He drew down my pants and panties, then kneeled down behind me, teasing my clit with his tongue until I was writhing and begging for more.
Then he was slamming deep inside of me and fucking me hard and fast against the counter until we both came in unison.
Barry had come back quicker than expected, leaving me only enough time to drag my panties up. The pants were stuffed in a cabinet.
Hence my mad dash to my clothes, and into the bathroom to put myself together. I hadn’t even run a brush through my hair after I’d rolled out of bed.
I knew Junior said his mom was really laid-back and not very girly, but I wanted to make a good first impression, damnit.
I mean, there was nothing I could do to fix the fact that his father and uncles’ first impressions of me were less than glamorous, but now that I had a chance to make a good one, I was going to take it.
But also I need to drag my clothes on, brush my hair, and brush on some mascara quickly because I didn’t want to come off high maintenance either.
“Good as it’s gonna get,” I told my reflection once I was done.
I’d gone for jeans and a tank top under my nicest cardigan in an uncharacteristically subdued beige color.
I hadn’t thought to grab socks or shoes, so I was barefoot when I made my way out, my belly doing flip-flops.
I’d never needed to do the whole ‘meet the mom’ thing before.
