My anxieties vanish.
The way he's looking at me…
I don't have a doubt in the world.
I tease him until his eyelids flutter closed.
A groan falls off his lips. "Fuck, Chloe."
God, the way he says my name. I need more of it. I need all of it.
I scoot up the bed.
Then off it.
I lower myself onto my knees in front of him.
He presses his palm against the back of my head, urging me forward, begging for more.
Fuck, I want to give him more.
I want to give him everything.
I brush my lips against his tip as softly as I can.
His fingers dig into the back of my head.
His toes curl into the hardwood.
I tease him the way he teased me.
I flick my tongue against his tip. The warm, sweet flesh. The smooth, silver metal.
He shudders as I play with his piercing.
I do it again and again.
I do it until he's groaning.
Slowly, I take him into my mouth.
His hand knots in my hair.
The other goes to my shoulder. Then my chest. He toys with my nipple as I take him deeper.
Deeper.
Fuck, he tastes good.
It's been a long, long time since I've done this.
But he makes me feel right at home.
His hips shift ever so slightly. His groans bounce around the room. His fingers brush my nipple again and again.
He rolls it between his thumb and forefinger as I flick my tongue against the bottom of his tip.
I tap it against his piercing again and again.
Until his groan is agony as much as it's pleasure.
I wrap one hand around his cock. Pump him as I take him deeper.
Deeper.
As deep as I can manage.
Then I pull back and do it again.
His eyes blink open.
He looks down at me with heavy lids.
Desire fills his baby blues. It pours over his expression.
His brow knits. His lips part. His head falls forward.
I do it again.
"Fuck, Chloe." His fingers dig into the back of my head.
My sex clenches. My nipples tighten. My body begs for more, but this is exactly where I need to be.
His need is intoxicating.
It's everything.
I move faster.
Suck harder.
Get lost in the feeling of his firm flesh in my mouth.
His breath hitches in his throat.
His nails dig into my skin.
There.
I flick my tongue against his piercing.
Push him over the edge.
He pulls back as he comes.
He groans my name as he spills onto my chest.
Like it's his favorite word in the entire world.
Like it's everything.
When he's finished, he pulls me to my feet.
He wraps his arms around my waist.
And he kisses me like he's never going to let go.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chloe
Dean joins me in the shower.
His hard, wet body presses against mine as we move past each other.
He runs his fingers through my hair as he helps me shampoo and condition. I rise to my tiptoes to do the same to him.
He catches me when I slip.
He presses his soft, wet lips to mine.
Rubs soap over my shoulders, arms, back, chest, stomach.
I take my time exploring every inch of his torso. Hard muscles. Soft skin. All those lines of ink.
He feels good against my fingertips.
Right.
I'm ready to spend eternity in the shower with Dean.
Until I hear the whir of the garage door.
Shit.
What the hell is Dad doing home?
I press my back against my bedroom door. Suck a shallow breath through my teeth.
Today is out to get me. Or at least to give me an anxiety attack.
Dean chuckles as he pulls his boxers on. "Relax." He steps into his jeans. "I know what I'm doing."
Maybe he does, but I don't. "My dad has never caught me with a guy."
"He knows we're fucking."
"How do you figure?"
"The way he looked at me when I picked you up." He pulls his t-shirt on. "He was deciding if I was worth his daughter's time."
"And?"
"Pretty sure he liked me."
He did like Dean.
And he did send me that sassy text.
I'm sure Dad realizes I have a sex life. Even if I didn't have a sex life until last night.
Dean moves to my dresser. Opens my underwear drawer. Tosses me a pair of panties. "Though I'd prefer if you skipped them."
"How did you—"
"That pic you sent." He runs his fingers through his wet hair. "Fuck. I can't think about that or I'm gonna get hard."
"You remember it that well?"
His nod is pure need.
It's everything.
It's completely inappropriate with my dad's footsteps downstairs.
But it's still incredibly hot.
"You home, Chloe," he calls.
Fuck me. Seriously. How do people deal with having sex in high school? This is mortifying.
"Yeah. I'll be down in a minute," I say.
I fight my blush as I get into my clothes. I'm still wet. My jeans don't want to cooperate. I have to coax them into it.
There.
I find a bra in my drawer. A black tank top.
Dean wraps his arms around my waist.
His touch calms me instantly.
"You'll be okay, sunshine." He plants a kiss on my neck. "I promise."
I nod. He's right. This is no big deal. Just my dad getting home minutes after my boyfriend came on my chest.
Is Dean my boyfriend?
I can't even say hey, Dad, you know my boyfriend. More like hey, dad, you know my boss, who I am clearly having sex with.
Ugh.
Dean's chuckle bounces around the room. "How about you let me lead?"
I shake my head.
"You trust me?"
"Terrifyingly enough, yes."
"Then let me handle this."
Uh…
He holds his hands up. "Your call."
Dad did like him immediately.
Everyone likes Dean immediately.
Maybe he does know what he's doing.
"Okay. But if I give you the signal, that's it. I'm taking over," I say.
"What's the signal?" He chuckles.
I tap my nose three times.
"Sure." He motions after you. "I lead until the signal."
"Don't mock the signal."
"I wouldn't dare." He follows me into the hallway.
My fingers skim the railing as I move downstairs. My feet are still wet. My footsteps are slippery.
"Hey, Dad." I step into the living room. "What are you doing home?" I cross my arms reflexively. Is there really a better time to be defensive?
"Meeting finished early." His gaze shifts to Dean. "I guess I don't have to ask what you're doing here."
My cheeks flush. "We were in the neighborhood. For the test."
"Oh." Dad looks to Dean. "It's that serious?"
"Yeah." Dean steps into the living room. Runs his fingers through my wet hair. "Can I be honest?"
Dad laughs. "I should hope you're always honest."
Dean nods true. "I adore your daughter."
Dad's gaze flits from me to Dean then back to me. "And you, Chloe?"
"And I…?" Why is he being so cool about this? He just caught us in the act. After the act. Close enough.
"He's asking if you like me or if you're only in this for my body." Dean slides his arm around my waist. "No one would blame you for the latter."
"No. I like you a lot too." My cheeks flush. "Is this the time for this conversation?"
"I figured you'd have that worked out by now." Dad moves into the kitchen and grabs the coffee from a high shelf. "But Chloe has always been particular."
"I am not particular." My voice breaks into a teenage whine. "I just have high standards."
"Pretty sure that's another way of saying particular," Dean says.
"Maybe we should get out of your hair," I offer. "Traffic shouldn't be too bad yet."
"No. Stay for dinner." Dad smiles at Dean. "Unless you have plans."
"Can't think of anything I'd rather do," Dean says.
Dad beams. "I'll call Gia."
God help me.
Gia twirls her fork, scooping strands of pasta. "So, Dean… what have you been doing since high school?"
Dean looks to me and raises a brow. What's she getting at?
I'm not really sure. Dad skipped the thorough grilling in favor of coffee (tea for us) and conversations about action movies. He gave us space to make dinner while he and Gia collaborated on the best way to torture us.
My older sister loves torturing me.
But then she's protective too.
I don't know if she's teasing me or calling Dean out.