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She gets to her feet and walks to the front window. “Geez, I think I may need some fresh air. The bullshit in here is getting really thick.”
Okay, I’ll laugh at that one.
“Hey, who wants takeout from Lickin Chickin? I could go for some nice greasy poultry for dinner.” She looks at Wyatt. “You look like a fried chicken kind of guy. I can see it now, typing away on your keyboard, developing the app that would buy you this condo, getting grease all over the keys. I mean, before you became a vegetarian, that is.”
He pulls up the Lickin Chickin website and passes his phone to Henry so he can make his choice. “Hey, just because I’m a software engineer doesn’t mean I’m a pig. Look around this place? Do you see dirt anywhere?”
“No because your cleaning crew was just here,” I say.
“Whatever, man. Look, enter your order so we can get this shit delivered before Amalia expires from hunger. I can see it now…Empire Ink Press editor starved to death by high-brow literary douchebag, Levi Maverick.”
“I’m not gonna starve Amalia, but I might murderyouif you don’t shut up.”
Amalia jumps to her feet, positioning herself between the two of us. “Boys, boys. No fighting, okay? Don’t make me sorry I came over here on my day off. You know, Levi, I don’t usually work on Sundays. I made this one exception foryou.”
I sit back on the sofa, spreading my arms across its back. “Sounds like I owe this woman something, doesn’t it, guys?”
Henry flicks off the TV and saunters over. “I don’t know, man. I’m thinking we all owe her for coming over and working all day. Because we know she’s been working hard. Very hard.”
Amalia is trying to keep her expression serious, but I can tell by the way she’s shifting in her boots, we’re getting her revved up.
Just how I like her.Revved up.
Well, I like her in other modes too. But at the moment, revved is my objective.
“Come here, pretty girl,” I say, crooking my finger.
She tilts her head. “How do I know you’re not gonna make me wear granny panties and a flannel nightie?”
Henry walks up behind her and puts his hands on her breasts while Wyatt helps her step out of her boots and socks.
“How do you know I won’t? You might just deserve a little humiliation. A little punishment,” I say.
Her eyebrows shoot up. “What? I’ve been nothing but polite tonight, biting my tongue while you defend the lame-ass parts of your book.”
“Oh-ho!” I say. “Someone’s looking for trouble.”
Amalia saunters over to where I’m sitting on the sofa and bends down, placing a hand on each of my shoulders. “Maybe I am looking for trouble,” she sing-songs.
God bless her, she walked right into it.
I clamp a hand around each of her arms. “Hey, guys. This lady here is bragging about making trouble. Why don’t you show her what bad girls get.”
She snickers and tries to pull out of my grip. I don’t let go, and she wriggles some more. “Hey,” she laughs.
I look at her, only inches from my face, and slowly shake my head. “Don’t think so, baby.”
Henry reaches around her waist from behind and opens her blouse. Her bare breasts dangle before me, and it’s torturous not to touch them, but my hands are occupied. So Henry takes hold of her firm, round tits, and I can almost feel them in my own hands when he runs his thumbs over her hard nipples.
She shimmies from the sensation, her eyes falling closed, and when Henry’s hands wander down her stomach and into her jeans, I know he’s reached her clit when her mouth drops open. Wyatt appears from the sidelines and slides her jeans down over her hips, and in her bent position, her ass is in the air and being admired by both guys.
“Want me to fuck you a little, Amalia?” Henry murmurs into her ear.
She shakes her ass. “I want you to fuck me a lot,” she giggles.
Henry’s pants drop to his ankles and seconds later Amalia shrieks from his ferocious penetration, pushing her so hard she flies forward and our heads knock.
“Oh God,” she moans, pushing back against him as best she can.
