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With my trembling hands becoming too obvious on the table, I drop one to my lap as the other clutches Izaac’s wrist, holding him so fucking tight I’m sure I’m cutting off his circulation, but good God, I’m going to explode if he doesn’t ease up.
His fingers are like magic, knowing exactly how to touch me, and he’s using every little thing he’s learned about me over the past few weeks and putting it to the test. After all, he dared to tease me how quickly he could get me off in the pantry, and now, he’s standing by his word.
“Ahh shit,” Izaac says. “Is this the big announcement where you tell us you’ve fallen madly in love with Becs despite barely knowing her?”
I clench my jaw, trying to find anything to focus on which isn’t the overwhelming pleasure rocking through my core. “You and I are gonna have words about that, by the way,” I warn him, making a show of reaching for my wine as though my hips aren’t violently jolting beneath the table. “Don’t act like I don’t know how much you’ve been texting her.”
Izaac’s fingers plunge deep inside my pussy and my walls clench around him in surprise, and I suck in a sharp breath before trying to play it off, but luckily all eyes are on Austin.
“There’s nothing going on between me and Becs,” he says as Izaac curls his fingers and begins massaging deep within me, right over my fucking G-spot, making my thighs shake with desperation, my chest heaving with heavy breaths. “We’re just texting. It’s nothing.”
“Uh-huh,” Izaac grins.
Austin rolls his eyes. “Can I tell you assholes my big announcement, or what?”
“Language,” Mom scolds as Izaac’s thumb rolls over my clit, sending me into a world of pure ecstasy. It’s too much. I’m going to come at my fucking childhood dining table.
Holy fucking shit.
My fingers clench tighter around his wrists, but he’s relentless and pushes me harder, his fingers scissoring deep inside of me and making me bite down on my lip to suppress a moan. I grab my wine again, mostly so I can lift it to my face and hide the shaky breaths tearing from deep in my chest, but I don’t hesitate to take another desperate sip.
“Okay, so,” Austin starts, his gaze shifting nervously toward me as my walls clench around his best friend’s fingers, so close to the fucking edge. I can’t hold on to it any longer. I can’t hold back. “I’ve been playing with the name for the restaurant, and I’d like to call it Aspen’s.”
“Holy fucking shit,” I gasp as I come harder than I’ve ever come in my life, my gaze awkwardly locked on my brother’s as my walls rapidly convulse around Izaac’s fingers, but damn him, he doesn’t even try to stop.
I shatter like fucking glass. My whole body trembling.
Tell me I didn’t just come at my childhood dining table surrounded by my family.
Fuck me.
“Yeah?” Austin asks, watching me too fucking closely, probably able to see my flaming cheeks and the look of utter shock on my face. This is not fucking happening. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be down with it, but what do you think?”
Mom gets teary-eyed as Dad chuffs with pride, but all I can do is stare at him, momentarily paralyzed by the way Izaac’s thumb lazily continues rolling over my clit as I come down from the greatest high known to man. But when he finally pulls his fingers free and fixes my thong back into place like the gentleman that he is, I try to focus on what the hell is being said.
“I . . . I love it, but are you sure?” I ask him. “This is your dream. You’re the one putting in all the work. You should name it after yourself.”
“You’re my little sister, Aspen. Literally, everything I have ever done since the moment you were born was to show you that you could do anything or be anyone you ever wanted to be. If you weren’t around, I never would have pushed so hard to make it happen,” he tells me. “Despite how we tease each other, you’ve always been my greatest supporter and my best friend. So yeah, I’m sure. I’d like to name it Aspen’s.”
My eyes grow watery as I get up from the table and rush around to my brother’s side, taking my glass of wine with me and making sure my dress is pulled down properly before pulling him into a tight hug. “I love you too,” I tell him. “Thank you so much.”
My knees are still shaky as I meet Izaac’s eye across the room and watch as he picks a tiny bit of pizza crust off his plate and pops it into his mouth. Only he doesn’t stop there, holding my gaze as he makes a show of sucking his fingers clean. “Mmmm, that was fucking delicious,” he says right as I take a sip of wine.
“Couldn’t agree more,” my father says, leaning back and rubbing his full stomach.
Holy fucking shit.
My wine spurts from my fucking nose, redecorating Mom’s good dining table, and I hastily grab a bunch of napkins and start mopping up my mess as Izaac laughs to himself.
“Jesus Christ,” Austin mutters in annoyance, his white shirt now stained with wine as he tries to shake it off his arms, splattering wine across the whole damn room. “Learn how to swallow.”
Izaac chokes on a laugh, his wicked gaze meeting mine. “Oh, she’s got no problem there,” he says under his breath.
Fucking hell. He did not just say that.
“Do you have any mock-ups for the front of the restaurant?” I rush out, desperately trying to change the topic from my ability to swallow before Austin or my parents have a chance to process what was said.
“Yeah, actually. I do,” Austin says as I hastily hurry back to my seat, more than happy to move this right along. “I’ve got a bunch made up that I want to show you. I think you’ll really like them, but I want your honest input. If your name is going up on the wall, I want it to be just right.”
