I didn’t see Bre on the couch. She often waited for me to come downstairs so that we could talk. With a glass of scotch in her hand, she would let me unwind, telling her about my day. But she was nowhere in sight.
I went to the kitchen and found her doing the dishes. My first instinct was anger. The dishes were the cook’s job, not Bre’s. But she didn’t seem to mind. There wasn’t any indignation in her body language. She was just doing a chore that needed to be done.
Seeing her standing there, up to her elbows in soapy water, gave me pause. Her ass filled out her jeans so perfectly, the curve of her hips inviting inspection. I couldn’t help myself. I knew that I should wait until after my conversation with Connor, but I wanted to touch her right then.
I gave in to my baser longings, coming up behind her to spread my hand across her backside. She jumped, looking up at me with a mixture of fear and longing. It melted into relief when she saw that it was just me.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, putting down the plate she had been working on.
I didn’t answer, pushing her hair aside so I could nibble on her neck. She stretched out beneath my touch, eager for more. I took that as an invitation, sliding my fingers down her spine. I gripped her hips, pulling them to me. Standing behind her, I pressed my growing arousal into her bottom.
She took her hands out of the sink, her fingers coated in soap bubbles. She reached over her head, behind her back to stroke my hair. I felt the warm dampness of the dishwater and shrugged her hands away. This was my ball game, my turn on stage. I took her by the wrists and put her hands down on the counter.
She sighed, following my directions to the letter. I touched her back, sliding my hands up and down until they came to rest on her hips. They were so perfect, molded to my specifications as if by some twist of fate.
She inhaled sharply, moving her center of gravity to give me better access. That was all I needed. I reached around to undo the button at her waist. Sliding her pants down, I was treated to a delicious view. Her rear end was even more spectacular in the nude, two perfect globes pressed together, inviting my intrusion.
Bre’s breathing sped up. I could see she was turned on. I fought with my own demons, wanting to rip every stitch of clothing from her body. Instead, I dipped one hand beneath the remaining fabric. Her underwear was soft cotton, not the silk or satin of more experienced temptresses.
Her skin was warm, smooth, and firm. I cupped her intimate spot, her outer lips smooth and hair free. She was as tender as a fine cut of meat, a beautiful vessel for my throbbing organ. I put off my own needs, focusing on her pleasure.
Sliding a finger deep within, I felt the satisfaction of her inner walls closing around me. She moaned, rocking back into my touch. I held her down with one hand on the small of her back. It wouldn’t do to have her break free and take control.
She submitted to my ministrations, gripping the counter with glistening hands. I fit another finger inside, widening her passage. She gasped, pressing forward in an attempt to quell the flames. I chased her down, sliding in and out with a gentle rhythm. I snuck my other hand around her front, reaching down into her shirt to cup her breast. Holding her tightly to my chest, I plunged into her deepest recesses, fingering her nipple at the same time.
She cried out, desperate for relief. She tried to reach back to hold me again, but I shrugged her hands away. She was forced to let it happen, to take what I was giving. I could feel the pressure building in her core, her heartbeat racing.
With my thumb, I swept across her clitoris, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She pitched forward, bucking against my hand. I felt a rush of warmth coating my fingers and the contraction of her inner muscles.
She tilted back into my embrace, finally allowing me to hold her. I slid my fingers out, wet with her dew. Releasing her breast, I removed my hand from her chest, allowing it to settle on her collarbone. Pulling her hips back against my crotch one more time, I satisfied myself with pleasuring her. That was enough. Monday, I would drink my fill. I just wanted to give her a preview of what was to come.
Releasing her slowly as her heartbeat returned to normal, I helped her jeans back up to her waist. She turned around in my arms, her eyes wide. I could see that she wasn’t quite over the orgasm. Her movements were shaky, and her cheeks were flushed.
“What about you?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” I said. “I want you in my bed, eventually.”
Depriving her even of a kiss, I turned and walked away. She didn’t cry out or ask for any further consultation, but I could feel her eyes following me. I was under her skin, and I loved it there. It was warm and wet and dangerously hot. I was determined to build the excitement so that whatever deal I struck with Connor, Breanna would know I meant business. I was one step closer to the life I wanted, and all that was left was learning how to share.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
BREANNA
When Sunday came, I was so excited, I almost couldn’t eat. I managed to have some breakfast while Seanan told me all about things she was going to do with her father that day. I looked over at Flynn, who was scrolling through his phone while sipping coffee. He didn’t look up.
I wondered if he knew what I had planned. He probably did; the man knew everything. He didn’t raise a hand to stop me, however, so I kissed little Seanan’s head and walked out the door. I didn’t bother to kiss Flynn or to show affection to him in any way. I could still feel the ghost of his fingers inside me. He made me weak, and I didn’t want him to think I was still hung up on that encounter.
The way he walked right out of the room instead of submitting to my affections was arrogant. It was also very Flynn. I didn’t say goodbye to him because I was afraid that he would ask me not to go. In that case, I might be forced to cancel my lunch date with Connor and Dex. I wanted all three of them, but if Flynn decided to fight for me, I wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. I hoped that wouldn’t happen.
He didn’t ask me to stay or get up and try to kiss me again. I walked out of the house a free woman and even took Flynn’s car downtown. We arranged to meet at Connor’s place around eleven. We were going to make something to eat and watch a soccer game. Bohemian was playing Derry City, and even though I didn’t follow soccer, I was looking forward to cheering our team on.
This was it, my big date with two guys. I was nearly vibrating with energy when I arrived, imagining all kinds of delicious things that had nothing to do with food. I leaned down to talk to Flynn’s driver when he dropped me off.
“Don’t wait,” I told him.
“Yes ma’am,” he said before driving away.
I wondered briefly what he thought of me, having seen every single place I’d visited in the past month. I wondered if he was going to report back to Flynn, but then scrapped that concern. Flynn knew exactly where I was, and by his silence had given me his approval. I walked into the building an empowered woman, ready to take everything that I wanted.