AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Damien adjusts the light switch so only one dim lamp is illuminated. Mood lighting. I like this vibe. My belly becomes all squirmy in anticipation of all the kissing we're about to do.
He sits next to me and turns in my direction, sweeping my long hair behind my shoulders. "No. I had far better things to do than go fishing with my brothers."
His big hand slides across my jaw, toward my neck, and he pulls me to him. It takes about five seconds for me to straddle him, and I hold his face in my hands.
"So much for the movie," I whisper.
"I don't even know where the remote is, and I don't care." He chuckles and grabs my ass, grinding me into his erection, which is already evident and quite hard. Our lips graze against each other's, lightly, sensually. And then the tension between us ignites and explodes.
Our kisses turn hot and wet. Lots of tongue and soft moans.
He slides one of his hands up my T-shirt, and when he cups my breast, Chunky snorts. I giggle. Damien closes his eyes and lets out a laugh, all while kneading and holding my breast.
I wore my thinnest bra tonight. It's light pink lace, andDamien's thumb and forefinger immediately find my nipple that's practically poking through the flimsy fabric.
"Look at what I found," he growls. "Fuck, you're turned on, aren't you?"
I whimper a yes.
He pinches, and I gasp.
And that's when the smell hits us.
"What," I nearly gag in Damien's ear, "is that?"
"Oh God, I was afraid of this," he whispers, putting his face against my chest. Probably so he won't die from smelling whatever it is that suddenly caused the entire room to reek of rotten eggs, dead fish, and a hint of burning plastic.
"What the hell? Is that...Chunky?" I snicker and bury my face into Damien's lime-spice scented hair.
He nods, his face still pressed into my chest. "This is why Dad doesn't want him in the room at night. Tate's put him on this new salmon diet and it's going to kill us all."
By now I need to breathe through my mouth, and Damien and I tumble onto our sides, away from the dog, clutching each other and mashing ourselves into the folds of the sofa.
"And this is why you were reluctant to bring him up here."
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice muffled against my neck. "Not very romantic."
"Poor Chunky." I giggle and snuggle closer, nuzzling my nose under the corner of his T-shirt. Even with the explosive and lethal dog fart, it feels damned good to be tight in Damien's arms.
"Poor us."
"It smells awful. But somehow I don't want to move."
"Because you'll probably die from the odor. I'm like a human oxygen mask."
I'm laughing so hard now that tears pour from my eyes.
"You kind of are," I say softly.
"I guess that's kind of a temporary mood killer."
I lift my shirt collar over my mouth and nose. "We could try watching the movie."
Damien kisses my forehead and we shift so we're tangled together and facing the TV screen. After a few minutes, Chunky joins us on the sofa and refrains from farting. For how long, we don't know, but....
Somehow, cuddling and watching a movie tonight—and not having sex—feels right.
Feels perfect, in fact.
