Pretty sure the last time I was here, what his bathroom looked like was the very last thing on my mind. The bedroom? Yes. Kline naked? Hell yes. But the cleanliness of his toilet? Yeah, not so much.
“Only one of those things is even remotely my fault,” Kline grumbled under his breath. It was one of those moves where you want to stick it to a person by saying what you’re feeling, but you don’t actually want them to hear you.
I tried really hard not to laugh.
“How was the Hamptons?” Bob asked as we made our way into the living room.
“Fantastic.” Kline encouraged me to sit down on the couch before settling beside me. “We had great weather.”
“Had you ever been to the Hamptons, Georgia?” Maureen asked.
“A few times, but not since I was a teenager. It was nice being by the coast. Honestly, it makes me want to live there permanently.”
Kline grinned at me, gently squeezing my thigh.
“What’d you rent for the drive, son?” Bob asked.
“Ford Edge.”
“Sensible vehicle. Not my first choice, but I guess you didn’t want to pick Georgia up in a Focus, huh?” He chuckled, smiling at Kline. “How was the gas mileage?”
“Pretty good,” Kline answered. “Twenty-eight miles to the gallon.”
“Not too shabby.” His dad scrunched his lips together, nodding his head.
The whole practicality thing was really starting to make sense.
“Darling, have you offered Georgia anything to drink?” his mother whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. “I’m sure she’s parched from the drive.”
Before I could decline, Kline was pulling me to my feet.
“Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”
“I’ll take a beer, son!” his dad called out to us as we walked into the kitchen.
“She’s so pretty, Bob,” Maureen whispered to her husband, giddy. “Do you think they’re having s-e-x?”
“Christ, Maureen, I hope to God our son is having sex by now. He’s thirty-four years old. If he isn’t, I’ve screwed up somewhere along the way.”
“Shh,” she quieted him. “Keep your voice down. And stop talking like that.”
“Pretty sure they can hear everything you’re saying, Maur. You’ve never been too good with the inside voice.” His father didn’t even attempt to keep his volume down.
“Do you think they are, Bob?”
“By the way they looked when they walked in the door, I’d say they were about two seconds away from s-e-x-ing.”
If they hadn’t already shown me approval, I’d have been burrowing myself into the floor.
The second we got into the kitchen, Kline was lifting me onto the counter and standing between my legs. He gripped my thighs.
“Sorry for the ambush,” he said, his eyes apologetic.
“It’s not like you planned it. Anyway, I really like Bob and Maureen.”
A relieved grin covered his lips. “They really do mean well. My mom can be a bit of a meddler, though. I’m sure that was apparent the second we walked into my apartment and found them making themselves at home.”
I laughed, nodding. “It’s okay. Once you meet my parents, you’ll realize you have nothing to worry about.”
He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “I look forward to it, baby.”
“Do you think we’ll have s-e-x tonight?” I teased, waggling my brows.
“God, I was praying you hadn’t heard them,” he groaned, dropping his head to my chest.
I laughed, lifting his chin up to meet my eyes.
“I’m glad you’re finding this hilarious.”
“I can’t wait until we have s-e-x again,” I whispered.
Kline’s face cracked, a smile consuming his perfect mouth.
“I hope you put your mouth on my p-u-s-s-y, too.”
“If I put my c-o-c-k in your mouth, will you stop spelling shit?”
I nodded, my mouth twisting into a devious smile.
He tickled my ribs, urging giggles from my lips.
“Stop it!” I whisper-yelled, squirming away from him. “Now, stop being so damn ornery and get me something to drink. I’m parched.”
He rolled his eyes, turning for the fridge.
I stayed on the counter, swinging my legs and watching him rummage around for refreshments.
“Hey…psst…” I tried to get his attention.
Curious blue eyes peeked over the fridge door.
I cupped my mouth with my hands, whispering, “You have the best c-o-c-k.”
“I just realized maybe I should have chosen a more professional meal. Something delicate.” Georgia rolled her eyes with a self-deprecating smile and took a sip of wine.
Professional. Ha. These days, professional felt like nothing more than a fancy name for a distant memory. I was so wrapped up in her, my eyes were practically staring straight down the barrel of my asshole.
It didn’t feel remotely natural, but it sure as fuck didn’t feel bad either.
“You’re not a delicate professional. You’re a take-charge, no-bullshit kind of woman. If Glen would rather watch you eat a salad than a steak, he can go fuck himself.”
“Kline!”