“Me too.” My thumbs rub over her taut nipples.
Chest heaving, her hands glide to the back of my neck, and her lips cover mine. She arches her pelvis into my raging hard-on as I thrust my tongue in and out to the rhythm of love. Then, with her back to the wall, and with water whooshing around us, I find her silky clit.
“Damn, I love you.” Placing my tip at her core, I enter and wait for her to relax before entering fully.
Moaning, I pull out, dance my tip around her opening, and sink in so deep, she gasps. As one leg wraps around my upper thigh, I hold her in place with my hand to a butt cheek.
She humps my finger as I pump, our cores connecting.
“Fuck, sugar.” I dig my fingers in and bite down on her ear lobe.
Shuddering, she tightens as I swell inside her.
Stars explode in front of my eyes, she screams, and shouting, I explode inside of her. Twice more I thrust into her, and hold her as her legs turn to jelly.
The first to stir, her eyelids open and these incredible brown eyes lift. “Every time we do it, it gets better and better.”
Groaning, I slowly pull out of her. “Make a note, Watson. Quickie-before-church-sex rates high.”
“You Watson, me Holmes.” Kissing me once more, she turns on all the sprayers and washes my liquids from between her legs. All wet, her lips plump from kissing, I want her again and reach to a breast but she pulls my fingers to her mouth and nips.
“Time to go.” She turns the shower knob to the far right, laughing, hops out.
“Fuck! That’s cold! Payback is a bitch.” I grab a towel and snap it at her.
“Ow!” Giggling, she grabs another, cracks it at me, then runs up the stairs.
I follow, ready for more sex but she sees my intent and points at my dresser. “Black jeans, button down shirt, presto.”
I glance at the time and sure enough, we’re late but not enough to skip as I’d hoped.
“Go.” She throws on leggings, a bra, and a long sweater, then dashes down the stairs.
I can’t help but laugh as I follow.
She mumbles something about her nonna and dying as she tucks wet locks into her hat. Soon, we’re out on the sidewalk where I grab her mittened hand and make a mad dash to church. Laughing and trying to catch our breath, we pause briefly in front of the nativity. The original baby Jesus is safely stored in a museum in Boston. The replacement, however, is a pretty damn good facsimile.”
While she stares, Sam’s face goes soft, the way it does with her niece. Hell, I’d love making a kid with her, maybe one of each.
Inside the church, she dips a finger in a font of water, crosses herself, and sits us in the back where no one notices. The sermon begun, I’m guessing we’re late but it’s still acceptable because lightning doesn’t strike us dead.
Father O’Connell’s voice distorts the old speaker system. “So, my brothers and sisters, Jesus taught us to feed the sick and clothe the hungry.”
Huh?” I turn to Sam.
“Shush.” She pretends to close her eyes and pray but she’s pissing her pants behind those folded hands and bowed head.
“When Jesus climbed to the top of the mount, he said, “Blessed are the poor. So, never worry about money. God will provide.”
“Poor in spirit.” I mutter for her ears only.It’s a damn sight different.
“Shush.” The lady in front turns and glares at me.
“Well, it’s true.”
He finishes up about fifteen minutes later with how we shouldn’t have sex outside of marriage, ties it to the loaves and fishes, and mentions Moses. I’m not even sure how he got there. Like I said, he’s amazing and I start to applaud but Sam throws a hymnal into my hand.
We kneel, stand, sit, kneel, sing, and then she goes up for communion while I stay put and watch her pretty behind which I may go to hell for thinking what I’m thinking in church.
