With one hand, I gripped the edge of the Formica surrounding the sink, and with the other, I gently buried my fingers in her still wet hair. Her mouth was remarkable. She used one hand to grip my girth, and with just enough suction and a hint of teeth, she teased and sucked me until I began to worry that I was going to lift the Formica right off the cabinet.
Soon, I was coming, but she didn’t relent, her mouth working me until I was finished. I lifted her to stand and then ripped at the curtain, pushing her backward and then turning her around. With one hand between her legs and the other clutching the slick skin of her hip, I kissed her shoulder while I sank myself deep inside her. The sound she made was enough to make me come a second time, but I waited for her.
I worked my fingers in a circle on her soft skin, smiling when she began writhing against my hand, whispering for more. While I rocked against her, agonizingly slow, she continued whimpering and moaning.
The water cascaded over her back, pushing her hair to one side or another, and I ran my palm over her bronze skin, savoring every inch, hoping she would remember how good we were together when the time came to make a decision.
The pitch of her cries became higher, that adorable yelping she made when she climaxed. Unable to stop, I rammed myself into her, over and over, until I came again, slowing as she did, panting even though we’d been at it for no more than twenty minutes.
America turned around to look at me, wearing nothing but a flirtatious grin. She stood, pulling away from me—which was the worst feeling in the world—and then she wrapped her arms around my neck as the water poured over our heads.
“I love you,” she whispered.
I raked my hands through each side of her hair, sliding my tongue into her mouth. I hoped it was enough.
America
Shepley heaved the last of my luggage into the backseat of the Charger, puffing as he fought to make it fit. Once he accomplished that feat, he grabbed his backpack from the concrete and tossed it behind his seat. I kissed his cheek, and he nodded, lifting the inside collar of his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. It wasn’t even dawn yet, and it was already hot.
Abby crossed her arms. “All set?”
“That’s all of it,” I said.
“Thank God,” Shepley said.
“Pussy,” Travis teased, punching his cousin in his side.
Shepley jerked in reaction and then playfully punched him back. “Just because I haven’t punched you in a couple of years doesn’t mean it won’t happen again.”
“A couple of years? When did you punch him?” I asked.
Travis touched his jaw. “It’s been a little longer than that. The night you broke up with him. The night”—he looked at Abby, already regretting what he was about to say—“I brought Megan back to the apartment.”
I looked at Shepley, dubious. “You punched Travis.”
“Right after you left,” Shepley admitted. “I thought you knew?”
I shook my head and then looked at Travis. “Did it hurt?”
“Sometimes, I think I can still feel it,” Travis said. “Shepley hits hard.”
“Good,” I said, feeling a little turned on at the thought of Shepley throwing a punch. My Maddox wasn’t known for fighting like the brothers, but it was nice to know he could hold his own when needed.
Shepley looked at his watch. “We’d better head out. I want to beat that storm coming in. Wichita is supposed to be under a tornado watch all afternoon.”
“You’re sure you can’t wait?” Abby asked.
I shrugged. “Shepley’s already taken the day off.”
“I’m glad you’re taking the Charger,” Travis said. “The only thing worse than driving in the rain is being stranded in the rain.”
Shepley kissed my temple and then opened the driver’s door. “Let’s get on the road, baby.”
I hugged Abby. “I’ll call you when we get there. Should be mid afternoon. Two thirty or three.”
“Have a safe trip,” she said, hugging me tight.
As I buckled my seat belt and Shepley backed out of the parking space, Travis pretended to kick Shepley’s door. “Bye, dickhead.”
“I love how guys show affection. It’s so cute in a sad sort of way.”
“You think I can’t show affection?”