Henry
I should have knownthe moment I saw her walk into the house to kick everyone else out. She has no reason to be here unless it’s to give in. I should have given one of my brothers the cue to cut out of here again when she took off her parka jacket. Once I spotted the Def Leppard t-shirt that she cropped so short you can see the under curve of her tits. I never knew how sexy that really was until I saw it. That little beauty mark on her left breast just peeking out at me, and I want to lick it to make sure it’s really there.
She eyes the sliced lemon I have on the cutting board next to me. Then, hopping down, she looks in the cabinets above the espresso machine. Closing it, then opening the other. I don’t say anything, just watch her while I finish plating the last of the sandwiches. She returns to the counter, puts the sugar bowl next to where she sat, and hops back up.
I look around the living room at the conversations still going on. I see Michael talking with Gracie, somewhat awkwardly. Law is flailing his arms around in some sort of story he’s telling the other two women who came back here with us. But my survey stops when I feel her breath on the shell of my ear.
“Henry, I think it’s time for everyone to go home now,” she whispers, and then I notice her holding my phone. She taps away at the screen, and then seconds later, I hear the rift of an electric guitar across my sound system, throughout the house. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“Step inside, walk this way…”
G raises an eyebrow, cranks up the volume, and then gives me one of her most wicked, sexy smiles.
Shit.
The bass kicks in, and then the vocals. You’d have to be living in a hole not to recognize the first few beats of “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” but here I am, planted in place and staring. She kicks off her boots, stands up on the counter, and starts to sway her hips. As she bends over at her waist so that her ass cheeks are eye-level, I’m instantly hard. I don’t notice what she grabs from the counter, just that she’s about to dance on my fucking countertop in front of far too many people. This show was only meant for me.
“Get the fuck out,” I say and look around at the room of people who are all watching my pixie move her body in ways I’ve never seen her do before, and my cock aches for it. Nobody moves, so I yell this time. “Get the fuck out. Now.”
“Are you shitting me right now?” Law barks back. “I fucking knew it. I knew it!”
One look at my face, and Law throws his hands up and points at me. “I fucking knew it!” I flip him off, and then he motions for the girls to leave out the door. Michael and Gracie were already gone by the time the second request left my mouth.
I only hear the front door shut because my attention is back on G as she laughs and shakes up the bottle of soda water in her hands.
I shake my head, telling her she better not fucking spray me with water right now. And the moment I crack a smile, I know she’s going to let it pour. The entire scene in front of me is some kind of 80s movie fantasy. G opens the cap, and the soda water sprays around the room, but she tips it so it douses the front of her instead of the entire kitchen, and I salivate at the vision she’s created. She soaks her Def Leppard shirt right through, the fabric clinging to her breasts. It sprays across my skin too, barely cooling anything down because my blood is boiling, pulse thumping. I’m so worked up over the show in front of me.
The water drips down her stomach, and a steady stream makes its way to her black leggings. My pants are soaked, my head feels light, and I’m smiling at the sight of her. Her nipples are hard and tight, making the sexiest appearance through that scrap of a shirt. There’s not a single person in the world that makes me laugh like this girl. And it’s impossible not to laugh with her in this moment. She’s ridiculous and so much fun. Something I didn’t realize I wanted in my life until she breezed into it all those years ago.
I reach up and hook my fingers in the waistband of her leggings, rolling them straight down her legs. They’re practically suctioned to her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She steps one foot out of each leg, and it feels too good to touch her again as I run my hands up her thighs.
“You’re somethin’ else, Pixie.”
She keeps dancing and laughing as she looks down at me. I realize quickly she’s not getting down, so I lean back and watch this live pin-up girl dance for me like a fucking professional in a thong and a soaked heavy metal t-shirt that’s barely covering her tits. My body is pumping adrenaline through my veins, and I can barely contain the lust that I know is radiating off of me. My mouth waters as I take in her body. The way her hip kicks up as she sways. The way her waist stays still while her thighs control the movements.
I snag my phone from the counter and lower the volume,, my hands are shaking in anticipation. I have to touch her. My mouth is watering to taste her.
She finally sits in front of me, and as the music starts playing something with a lower tempo than Joe Elliot would ever allow, we stare at each other. Maybe both realizing this isn’t something we walk away from ever again. Nudging her knees apart, I settle between them. I drag my thumb around her bottom lip, then down to the column of her neck. So sexy, the way she swallows and gets turned on when I touch her like this.
“Hi.” She smiles.
I take one of the lemon bits, and she watches as I glide the lemon through the sugar to coat it. Then I bring the thinly sliced piece toward her lips. She opens her mouth, but instead, I brush the piece around her pouty mouth. Coating them in the tart, granulated, and wet sugar.
“Hi.” I smile back.
I lick her bottom lip, and the lemon sugar coats my tongue. When I pull back to look at her mouth again, she sucks her upper lip in her mouth for a taste. Settling my hands on her waist, I drag my thumbs under the swell of her tits. The feel of her skin is so soft, still damp, and I groan.
“Tell me you want this,” I demand of her.
I lift her shirt, so I can finally see the rest of her. Rosy pink peaks that barely hid underneath the scrap she had on. I suck one into my mouth so hard it pulls a moan from deep within her chest. Then I pinch her other nipple just enough that she pushes her chest out farther, trying to meet my pull. But it’s more than the physical want I’m asking for right now. I need to hear her say that she wants me. This.Us.
“Tell me,” I growl as I tongue over the same path on the other side. The noises she’s making have made me unbearably hard. There’s no way I’m going to make it into another room. I’m fucking her in this kitchen. But not before she says it. Not before I see her mean it.
“I want you, baby,” she says breathlessly. “I’ve missed you so much. Two days wasn’t enough.”
That’s all it takes for me to let go. I pull her mouth to mine, and we relish each other’s lips in a kiss that I’ve wanted every single day since I’ve been away from her.
She pulls back. Out of breath, she says, “I want you so badly that I’m practically throbbing. You haven’t even touched me yet, and I’m ready to come.”