“The baking soda, Grizz,” she says, laughing. “Have you forgotten already that I'm a mom. The number of times I've had to fix Jovie from random scrapes and burns. This is a nettle rash, right?” Holding up her hand, I can see the red swelling start to materialize, not happy with how quickly it's becoming inflamed. “Your past doesn't scare me either,’ she whispers, leaning into me.
Wrapping my hands around her waist, I lift her onto the kitchen bench, easing her hand under the cold water. She all but squeaks, and I try to hide my grin. Focusing on methodically washing her palm and fingers with soap before pushing her knees open and standing between them, not paying attention to the way her chest,her luscious tits, rise and fall in front of me. Making a baking soda paste, I smother everywhere the nettle touched, only looking at her when I'm satisfied with the coverage.
Her pupils are blown, the same flicker of her tongue wetting her lips that happened in the loading bay. Her face and body are an open book, and I'm the only one who gets to read it. Resting both of my hands on top of her thighs, I push them higher up her legs, stopping when I'm less than an inch from her pussy. Her breath catches, and I can't help the smirk, knowing she reacts so beautifully for me. Leaning forward, our breaths mingle as we each wait for the other to take the final leap.
She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, sucking ever so slightly on it. The way her perfect pink lips would look wrapped around my length floods my thoughts, and I feel my cock grow uncomfortably hard, trapped in my jeans and pressing against the counter. It's been so long since I've wanted something like this with a woman. I could get on my knees and beg for her, butI already know I won't need to. She feels this thing between us, and even if it only lasts the Christmas season, she will be the best gift I've ever received.
A little family to keep safe.
A family of my own.
The shrill sound of a turkey gobbling erupts from behind Brynn, the lust falling from her face as she rolls her eyes, muttering, “Jovie.” Looking down at her baking soda covered hand, her eyes crinkle with warmth. “Do you mind getting my phone from my back pocket?”
Grinning back at her, I firmly move my hands around her hips and palm her ass. The phone in her pocket not hindering my satisfaction in getting a feel of the lush curves I've admired for too many days now.
The turky gobble gets louder now, her phone screen lighting up with notifications from Sarah. A picture of Jovie standing proudly with three little jars of wishes.
“Looks like they're finished. I should probably get back and help them clean up.”
“Let me finish sorting your hand, and I'll give you a lift.” The feeling between us is still there, but the moment has passed. “Why turkeys?” Unable to resist asking why she has such a weird message tone.
“It's Jovie! She changes the settings when I least expect them, and I don't know how to change them back. One time, she changed it to a foghorn that went off in the middle of a doctor's appointment. I hit the poor doctor in the eye when it startled me.”
“You punched the doctor?” I ask, confused by this.
Her cheeks begin to change to a soft pink, a blush creeping up her neck and across her face.
“No,” she groans, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I'm going to tell you this.” Sighing, “I pushed the speculum out, andit hit her. I was getting a pap smear and got such a scare, it shot out, and I gave her a black eye.”
My eyes go wide as I understand what she's saying, bursting out laughing, trying not to make Brynn any more embarrassed than she already is. I squeeze her thighs, caging her in while I try to catch my breath.A fucking black eye.“You have an amazing kid, you know that.”
Leaning back against the backsplash, she laughs alongside me, groaning every now and then as she no doubt remembers it. “She really is the best. Annoying, but I'd be lost without her.”
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 10 - BRYNN
“Let me wrap this, then I’ll get you a jacket,” Grizz mutters, taking my hips in his hands and helping me down from the kitchen counter. Even with my feet steady on the floor, he lingers for a breath—steadying me or just looking for a reason to hold on, I’m not sure, but I don’t care.
I like him there.
I want him there.
“I don’t need a jacke?—”
“You’re gonna need a jacket,” he repeats sternly and reaches past me to the cupboard behind my head. I lean back against the counter and grip the edge, chewing on my bottom lip as he leans into my space.
While at this point, I’m practically addicted to the smoky cedar scent that constantly swirls around him, I catch an unexpected sharpness this time.
Coffee.
Dark, bitter, none of the fancy extras—so him.
I let out a soft giggle just as he pulls back with a bandage roll in his hands and a frown on his face. “What?” he questions, but I’m already shaking my head.
“It’s not important,” I say with a smile as he gingerly takes my hand and wraps the bandage round and round the pasty concoction slathered on my arm. “It already feels a lot better.”
He nods but doesn’t look up, his brow pinched in focus. “Yeah, but wait a few hours to wash it, otherwise, it’ll just flare up again.” He finally steps back, admiring his work for a moment before lifting his eyes to mine. “Wait here while I grab you a jacket…”
