“You were right.” I sigh in feigned defeat. “You’resonot bad in bed.”
“Told you.” He drags me into him, his hard cock pushing against my thigh.
Shoving his chest so he’s flat on his back, I roll over to straddle him, my hands landing on his ribs. He’s long and thick beneath me, much bigger than the toys I own, making me curious about what it will be like when he eventually slips inside me.
“We still haven’t decided what we’re going to tell your brother,” he says, his fingertips teasing the skin just beneath my shirt.
“Please don’t talk about my brother in the bedroom.”
He huffs a laugh. “Fair enough. But I do need to text the guys back. What should I say?”
Though it’s still a little sensitive, I rub my clit against him. The friction from the soft fabric of his joggers sends a thrill through me. “Just tell them it was a one-time thing and it’ll never happen again.”
He quirks a brow. “You don’t want them to know about us?”
“Do you?” I challenge. “The two of them are super protective, and this thing between us is just for fun, right?”
He dips his chin. “Right.”
“And you saw your sister’s text. She can be…”
“Dramatic,” he finishes for me.
“Exactly. Isn’t summer camp all about playing games and having fun? Let’s just have somesexyfun.” I waggle my brows. “We don’t need to make a big deal out of it. Neither of us is looking for anything serious, so there’s no reason to involve them.”
“Sounds like a win-win to me,” he says, thrusting against me.
“So it’s settled,” I nearly moan. “Sexy fun for the win.”
“Speaking of winning…”
Before we even get started again, there’s a loud thud, followed by footsteps, and the door across the hall creaks open.
“Fuck.” Asher groans, dropping his head back.
My door is locked, but it’s only a matter of minutes, if that,before Bea comes looking for us. Fast as lightning, I scurry off his lap and pick up my pants and underwear from the floor.
Asher rolls off the bed begrudgingly, and as he straightens, I get an eyeful of my arousal smeared across the front of his pants.
“Hey, Greer.”
He turns his attention to me.
“It looks like you peed your pants.”
16
Asher
Five-year-olds arethe worst kind of cockblocks.
I dart into my room and to the en suite, calling out to Bea to grab a snack from the pantry to buy some time to collect myself—a.k.a. change into pants that don’t have Claire’s cum painted across the front.
Damn. That was hot. I’m not sure which I enjoyed more—kissing her or kissing her pussy.
Once my erection has deflated and I’ve washed my hands and brushed my teeth, I meet my daughter in the living room. She’s watching cartoons and eating dry cereal straight from the box, something her mother used to do.
“How was your nap, Dolly?” I ask as I snatch my phone from the coffee table and take a seat next to her on the sofa.
