Tippi’s face softens as she takes both babies in, her eyes roaming over their faces. “Fiercely cool names, guys. How did you come up with them?”
“That’s all Sadie,” Leo says, slinging an arm around his wife and looking at her proudly. “She read alotof romance while she was on enforced bed rest, and Ezra and Toren were the names of two of her favourite - what do you call them, Pumpkin?”
“MMCs.” Sadie winks at Tippi, who grins knowingly. “Male main character,” she advises me when I look at her blankly.
“I’m not in theleastbit jealous, of course,” Leo adds, kissing the top of her head.
“I take it you’ve already sent me the titles?” Tippi asks her with narrowed eyes.
“They’re in my favourites on BookBub.”
“Awesome, I’ll grab copies.” From the breathy laughs the two women share, I can surmise that they’re close, which I imagine is an excellent thing for sisters-in-law to be.
And then Tippi turns her smile on me. Dimples pop in her cheeks, and…
Holy hell, am I...?
I jolt like I’ve been jabbed in the side. “I…” My spine starts to melt, shock waves running through my entire body as I register what’s happening to me. “Excuse me.” Without another word, I hand Ezra over to Sadie and walk quickly into her house, dashing to one of their bathrooms and locking the door.
I lean on the sink, letting it take the majority of my weight as I take a couple of deep breaths. Touching the front of my trousers in disbelief, I make a choked noise when I confirm that I’m not hallucinating:
I’m getting hard.
It’s not a full blown erection, but I think it could easily qualify as what they call a ‘semi’.
And I’m shocked because it’s… been a while since my last… woeful attempt.
Anjali was squirming under me, but not in a good way. Her face screwed up like she was uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. “That just feels weird,” she muttered.
I throbbed inside her, torn between flight and freeze. What did she mean, weird? Painful, unpleasant, ineffective? I was thrusting in the way that feels good to me, and I thought might be good for her, too. Do I pull out of her at once, I wondered, or try something different?
She sighed impatiently, the sort of low growl she often let out in the office when she found a bug in her code. “Just… I don’t know, maybe if you give me a hand necklace?”
I blinked. “A what?”
She stared at me, her dark brown eyes incredulous. “Oh my god, seriously?”She grabbed one of my hands, and I quickly adjusted my weight so I wouldn’t squash her. “Like this…” My hand was placed around her throat, and she pressed it until I provided the desired effect, or something approaching it. “Now tell me I’m your dirty little slut.”
What?!
“Really? Y-you want that?” I only wanted to be sure before I said the words, because it was completely foreign to me to speak to anyone in that manner. I was raised to treat women with scrupulous respect, especially when I am on terms this intimate with them, and this went against those teachings in a fairly dramatic way. But the more I thought about it…Yes. Yes, that would be hot.The thought of saying that to her was turning me on like crazy -
“Oh, for fuck’ssake, forget it,” she said, pushing me off her and sounding thoroughly disappointed. “I wantedpassion, not this weird beige borefest from a Duracell bunny.”
I wilted. Shrank. Retreated so far inside myself that her voice started to sound almost distant as she gathered up her clothes and stormed towards the ensuite. “Do me a favour and pretend this never happened. And give me space in the office for a few weeks, yeah?”
My erections have been erratic ever since. I find it difficult to get one, harder still - pun not intended - to keep it. And every orgasm I’ve had since that time has been via wet dream. If I actuallytryfor one, nothing happens. Nothing at all. ‘Frustrated’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.
One tilt of Tippi’s mouth, and - God - there it is, undeniable, heavy, impossible. But true.
You are aridiculousman, I think to myself as I splash cold water on my face.That sort of situation isn’t going to happen with Tippi, so pull yourself together.I search inside myself for the mask I don around other people, the one that’s as close to normal as I can manage,and rub the hand towel on my face before heading out.
Walking back through the kitchen to the back door, I startle when I almost walk intoher. She’s got Gary the parrot on her shoulder, feeling him seeds individually by hand. And Christ, close up, Tippi Mills is even more wonderful to look at. There’s a smattering of pale brown freckles over her nose, each one individually adorable. Poreless fair skin, and the golden eyes of a lion, like her brother’s. It’s the only way they look alike. “Hi again,” she says pleasantly.
“Hhhhhhuuuuuhhhhh…” I cough once. “Hi.” One single syllable, and I still needed two tries to say it to her. “Um… I’m…” She waits patiently for me to finish my sentence, like it’s no big deal that I can hardly talk. Or perhaps she’s used to turning people to inarticulate jelly. “I’m s-sorry. About… you know. Dashing off like that.”
“Meh.” She shrugs. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.”
“Dickhead,” Gary informs me in an almost gentle tone.Called out by a bird.For the love of god.
