“Mmph!” he whines, sucking on my fingers. My own dick strains hard against my jeans. So much so, that I begin to worry that the fabric of my boxer-briefs won’t be able to prevent the inevitable bite marks sure to be imprinted from the zipper.
He continues sucking and licking, so I yank my fingers from his mouth. Between that and blowing him like my life hangs in the balance, I’m about to shoot off in my pants like a hormone-crazed teenager. The last thing I need today is to try to explain away a wet spot in my jeans, especially when I griped about Trista doing the exact same thing—getting freaky in the bathrooms in the same establishment where our son is working.
“Oh god, Gordy,” Gannett pants. “So good. So fuckin’ good. I’m close.”
I roll his balls on my palm, giving them another gentle tug.
“Mmmph, oh! Yes! Fuck!” Gannett whimpers between choppy breaths. “I’m—oh, fuuuuuuck, yessss…”
His whole body shudders as he fires off into my mouth. Surge after surge of his sweetened cum, flooding me until I can’t hold anymore, forcing me to swallow a little. When he’s completely spent, he tugs at my beard, coaxing me to feed what’s left to him. My lips pressed to his, I slide my tongue inside his mouth, and he eagerly accepts his release—not wasting a single drop.
“Fuuuck,” he groans, his head tilting back until it thumps against the mirror. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows more. “Why am I addicted tocum guzzlingof all things?”
He leans on me, boneless and sated, as I ease him off the counter. I bend and pull up his pants and underwear for him, fixing him up so he doesn’t look freshly fucked when he walks out of here. Carding my fingers through his ebony hair, I attempt to give it that purposefully mussed up look, rather than the one he’d created at some point during this little suck-off session by tugging at his roots. I don’t think I fixed it quite right, though. It doesn’t look as effortless as the way he does it.
His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. “Look at you, taking care of me afterwards,” he muses, a devilish lilt in his voice. “You want me to take care of that?” he asks, nodding down at my crotch.
“I’m fine,” I murmur. “This was about taking away some of your stress. I deserve all the anxiety I have.”
“You don’t—” he starts to protest, but I cut him off.
“I do, Gannett. It’s part of the process. I need to feel like somehow I’m earning my penance for what I did.”
His brows furrow. “Dr. Goucher told you to withhold orgasms as some sort of cosmic retribution? Jeesh, he sounds like a hardass.”
I shake my head. “No. Just—let me have this, okay? It’ll look a little fishy if we both leave at the same time anyway, so just go out there first. I’ll clean the counter up and attempt to get this thing to go away,” I grumble, gesturing down to my erection. “Let’s eat, give Taryn his moment, and we’ll find some time to pull Evan away afterwards.”
Gannett nods, biting his cheek. I grasp the nape of his neck, pulling him forward, and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’ll be fine.We’llbe fine, right?” he asks, seeking confirmation in my eyes.
“We’ll be fine,” I assure him, because even if Evan doesn’t approve, I’m still committed to making this work with me and Gannett. I just don’t want to be back on Evan’s shit list. Even if only for a few short weeks, before I ruined everything, his friendship meant the world to me when I had no others in that role. Between Gannett and myself, and Taryn and Morgan—hell, even me and Brooks—our lives are always going to be intertwined. The last thing I want is to be reminded of what a shit human I was for the rest of my life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Of fuckin’ course Evan is right outside the goddamn bathroom door when I step out. That’s just my luck, isn’t it? I can feel my cheeks getting ruddy, just like they always did when I was younger, sneaking some of Ma’s freshly baked cookiesbeforethey had a chance to hit the jar.
“You alright?” he asks, his brows furrowed. “You look sick.”
“Yeah,” I quickly reply, then attempt to change the subject. “You clean the boat?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I cleaned the fuckin’ boat. I’ve cleaned every time I’ve borrowed it, since that first night.”
I nod, making my way over to the buffet and filling up a couple plates—one for my girls to split and a little one for myself. Knowing Tati and Terra, they’ll eat just a little nibble of everything and leave the rest, so there’s no point in piling my own plate too high. I manage to keep Evan distracted enough at the buffet until I see Gordy out of the corner of my eye, grabbing a plate for himself.
My brother then takes his plates back over to the table, and I sigh in relief. If he suspected anything, he definitely wouldn’t have hesitated to bring it up right now—gathering or no gathering. The man has zero qualms about calling people out on their bullshit right in the moment.
“Well, Caleb just fuckin’ busted me coming out of the bathroom after you. Ran his mouth straight to Marcus…” Gordy grumbles.
“How do you know that?” My brows pinch in confusion. “Caleb can’t really—”
“Run his mouth,” he grunts, finishing my thought. “Yeah, I know. He speaks with his hands. So, the thing is, I know sign language.”
My head tilts. “You do?”
Gordy nods. “My mom was a CODA—a child of a deaf adult. My grandfather was deaf. She grew up speaking sign before she learned English, actually. Came in handy when Marlin demanded silence in the house. We communicated a lot that way.”
Guilt niggles within me. Gordy loved his mother tremendously, that much is obvious. There’s little I know about Gordana, however, but I always tread lightly on the topic of her, because I don’t know how tough of a topic it is for Gordy to open up about. He’s already trusted me with so much…
“It’s okay to ask about her, you know,” Gordy murmurs, apparently having read my mind. “I, um, I like talking about her. She was the only light in my otherwise dark childhood.”
