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I buck back into his hand, reaching to him to stroke his dick through his pants. I try to undo the button but can’t focus through my own building pleasure. I moan his name. He helps me undo his pants, barely pulling them down enough to get his dick out. I collapse forward to the counter, knowing I’m close, the intensity turning my brain into fuzz.
“Now,” I manage to pant, and he repositions himself behind me, taking me in one thrust. The pressure intensifies the feeling, and I know I’m not a girl that can come from just sex, so I take his hand and pull it to the front. He fucks me from behind and both of our fingers, mine on top of his, turn circles on my clit.
“Fuck,” he grunts. A quickie in the kitchen to shut everything down, at least for a moment.
The ring of the doorbell feels distant and also shocking. Someone is here, standing on the doorstep as Zeke drives into me, and it’s hot. He tries to take his hand back, but I hold his wrist.
“Don’t stop,” I say, letting the feeling of being caught having sex wash over me.
The doorbell rings again and I bite down on my lip as I come. Zeke groans behind me, curving his body to mine as he shudders with his own orgasm.
The sharp knock on the door shows that whoever is here is not interested in coming back later, and Zeke laughs through his heaving breaths. I stand and pull my sweats back up, turning to face him just as he’s zipping up his pants. He has a shit-eating grin on his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“Forrester, you have a seriously dirty side. Does it get you off, thinking of being caught?”
I shrug with one shoulder, coy and teasing. I’d never had this experience before. I’ve never been in a situation where I could almost be caught, but it intensified the feelings enough that maybe I do.
“I’ll get the door, you go,” he says, kissing me and nodding to the bathroom, knowing that’s where I go immediately after sex.
I clean myself up, listening for the muffled sounds of Zeke talking and then a woman’s voice.
“Where is she?” The voice becomes clearer, and my heart stops dead in my chest. I know that voice.
I fling open the door to see Zeke’s furrowed brow and Dru standing in the middle of the kitchen with her hands on her hips.
“Dru?” I say, and she turns to look at me, her features going slack and her lip curling as I tug my t-shirt down around my belly, a self-conscious feeling flooding me—one I haven’t felt since I left home.
“Oh my God, Nova, you look like shit.”
My cheeks flare, and Zeke’s confusion turns to a glare in a flash.
“I know.” I agree before I can think about it.
She’s right. I rarely do my hair or makeup anymore, and I’m dressed in a food-stained pair of sweats and one of Zeke’s old t-shirts because I have nothing that fits me.
“What?” Zeke pulls my attention to him, and he looks thoroughly disappointed. “Nova.”
He says my name like I should know better, but my thoughts begin to jumble as my two worlds crash into each other.
“How did you find me?” I ask, ignoring both of them.
“I’m your sister. I can find you no matter where you go.” Dru glances around the small apartment with a slight wrinkle on her delicate nose. My heart hammers in my chest, and I hold onto the doorframe for balance.
“But, I…” I trail out thinking about the call from Border Control. How could this be a coincidence that my sister shows up moments after I find out I have to go home?
“Mama sent me.” Dru looks to Zeke with the same scrutinizing eye. “Can I talk to my sister for a moment, please?”
Zeke stares me down, then turns his attention to Dru, squinting hard enough that it looks ridiculous. I can sense his discomfort. This is my sister. I don’t know why he seems so on edge.
“It’s fine, Zeke. You need to head to the shop, anyway.” I try to give him an encouraging smile. Dru laughs, the sharp sound startling Zeke.
“The shop. How adorable a life you’ve set up here, Nova.” She has a pleasantly amused trill to her voice, like I’m playing house or something.
I hurry across the room to Zeke, knowing exactly what kind of reaction he will give Dru and how razor-sharp Dru’s tongue can be. I grab him by the arm and drag him to the door. He lowers his voice and his eyebrows, the softness in his eyes shadowed.
“Nova, what the fuck?”
“I don’t know why she’s here.”
