I grinned, ignoring the ache in my cock as I touched her. I pressed and swirled, drawing twitches and silent gasps from Emily. Her face flushed, her eyes screwed shut, and she pumped her hips into my hand until I hit the spot she was searching for. Her head tipped back, her body clenching as she came, glorious, beautiful and utterly silent.
"Good girl," I praised against her lips. "Come for me, Pretty Eyes. You deserve this."
She came down a moment later, falling against the back of the booth, her breasts rising and falling as she panted.
"Okay?" I asked, moving to pull down her camisole and readjust her pants.
"Perfect," she whispered, eyes still closed. "Just perfect."
Yeah, you are, baby.
"Come here," I pulled her up, tucking her into my side and pressing a kiss to her head. "Love you, Em."
"Love you too." She nudged my side, shaking a finger up at me. "But that doesn't mean I'm sharing the last slider."
"No, not even for that climax?"
"Not even if you sell the house and move us back to the cottage."
I raised an eyebrow. "Youwantto move back to the cottage?"
"Yeah." She shrugged, taking a large bite of her burger. "It was a happy home."
I spooned up a mouthful of the salad, chewing thoughtfully.
It was a happy home. Ain't that the truth.
8
Emily
We arrived back at the house late, the moonlight glinting off the numerous windows.
"You know," Cal said as he pulled to a stop in the drive. "It's not a bad house."
It wasn't. It just wasn't home.
"True," I muttered, unbuckling. "But I just… it doesn't feel happy."
It was late, but he still emptied the car, piling the cans of paint and various items in the entry.
"Come on," he said, grunting as he lifted the rug. "Grab the bedding and your shower curtain."
"Wait, now?"
"Yeah," he called over his shoulder, heading for the stairs. "You're not gonna let me fuck you in a white bed or in the shower while that mirror is there." He paused halfway up the stairs, turning to look at me, the rug slung over one shoulder. "Wanna be inside you, baby, more than anything else in this fucking life."
With that, Cal turned, striding up the stairs and leaving me weak-kneed and wet at his words.
"Well," I cleared my throat and stooped to scoop up the packaged bedding and curtain. "I guess I'm getting luckier tonight."
In the bedroom, I found Cal rolling out the rug, placing it just so by the bed. I'd chosen a watercolour print, the vibrant blues, pinks, and purples faded into each other. The splash of colour was a welcome intrusion against the stark white.
Without thinking, I knelt on it, running my fingers through the thick weave.
"Fuck it," Cal said, dropping to his knees and reaching for me. "I can't wait."
I squeaked as he pulled me down, hovering over me. His hands ran over my body, pushing my sweater and camisole off and immediately going to my pants to pull them off.
