All Things Pretty
Page 42

As easily as I can, I drape my arm over Tommi’s waist and pull her back into me, spooning her from behind. The feel of her sweet little ass pressed up tight against my cock does nothing to calm the blood flow southward. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent that’s so uniquely hers. I make a mental note to ask her what kind of perfume she wears.
She stirs, which is fine by me, stretching against me and basically begging my cock to settle in between her cheeks. I reach around and cup her knee with my hand, bringing her leg up and over mine. I slide my fingers up the inside of her thigh until I reach the short-shaved lips that are spread just enough for me to find her wet and ready.
“Oh god!” I groan, rubbing my fingertip in the moisture and then gliding it over her firm clit. “Do you always wake up ready?”
“I don’t know,” she says huskily, her hand gripping my forearm. “I always wake up alone.”
I clench my teeth. I couldn’t have asked for a better answer. This is just for me. No memory of anyone else, nothing to look forward to. Just all for me.
“Well, I’d hate for it to go to waste. That would be such a shame.”
I massage her nub before I cruise down her slit and push a finger deep inside her. She tightens around me. “You’re addictive, did you know that?” she whispers.
“Funny,” I tell her as I roll her onto her back. “That’s exactly what I was thinking about you.”
An hour later, I’m watching Tommi pull off down the street. An hour and a half after that, I’m pulling up in her driveway, anxious as hell to see her again.
As is their habit, Travis comes out first, slinking down the steps with his hood pulled up. Tommi follows, tugging the door shut and then checking the knob. I’m more than a little surprised by what she’s wearing. Jeans that are faded in the ass and snug in just the right places cover her long legs, and a sexy little gray zip-up sweater hides tits that I know to be lush and responsive. Her hair is in a messy clump on top of her head. She looks like she just rolled out of my bed. Which she practically did. It makes my whole body groan just looking at her, being reminded. Like I’d forget so soon.
Not likely
She turns toward me, meeting my eyes immediately. Her lips spread into a controlled smile that makes me think she’d smile bigger if she weren’t hiding a delicious secret– our night together. I watch her walk all the way to the truck.
“How’s it hangin’, lil man?” I ask Travis as he climbs into the back seat. He mumbles something I can’t understand, but I don’t ask him to repeat it. I’m totally focused on the blonde scooting into the passenger seat. “Mornin’.”
“Good morning,” she says primly, reaching for her seatbelt. “You won’t have to take me to Lance’s today. He had to go out of town and won’t be back until Sunday.”
Lance is gone. Until Sunday. Today is Friday. Two full days. And two long, full nights.
After she clicks the belt closed, she meets my eyes again. There’s a devilish sparkle in them that makes me want to call a cab for Travis and haul her tasty ass right back to my house. Pronto!
“I wondered why you were dressed like that,” Travis says from behind me.
“While the cat’s away, the mice will play,” I quip, sliding my eyes to Tommi.
Her cheeks are rosy with a blush and her response is so quiet that I’m the only one who can hear. “Yes, they will.”
Being the son of a cop and, now, myself a cop, I obey the speed limit. Always have. Today, however, I violate it at least three times that I know of in my hurry to get Travis to school. Tommi’s worth a ticket. In fact, she’s worth several.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE- TOMMI
I feel like a prisoner who just got released on probation. When I got Lance’s call this morning, I knew how I’d spend my brief reprieve. There was no question.
I know it was supposed to be a one-time thing with Sig, but after last night…I knew I’d need more. Now I can have more, but without the risk.
Sig doesn’t say a word after Travis closes the door and stomps up the concrete steps to school. He simply shifts into drive and speeds back the way we came, making only two different turns. The two turns that take us to his house rather than mine.
From the moment he closes his front door behind us, we are enveloped in an urgency that belies the fact that we spent hours having sex last night. It’s like it never happened. We are as eager to touch and taste and feel as we were the very first time.
Sweaty and boneless, we take a break around lunch when Sig drives me to my house to take care of Momma. I go about everything with a happy tune playing in my mind and the knowledge that Sig is waiting for me in the living room. It’s odd that such a small thing would make such a difference, but it does. For the first time since I was sixteen, I feel like everything might just work out okay. Not because I have answers that I didn’t have yesterday or because my plan has changed. I think this just serves as a reminder of what I’m fighting for in the broader sense.
Sig takes me back to his house and strips me bare just inside the front door. With an eagerness that doesn’t seem to wane, he sheaths himself with a condom, presses me up against the cool wooden panel and entices moan after moan, scream after scream from my body.
When I’m limp in his arms, his body and the door the only things keeping me upright, Sig murmurs in my ear. “Think you’ve got another one for me before we go pick up Travis?”
Dear lord, this guy isn’t an animal; he’s a machine.
“As much as I’d love to, I really don’t think I can.” I feel sure that there is some sort of maximum climax that a human body can achieve in a twenty-four hour period, and I’m pretty sure that we’ve already met if not exceeded it.
“Never underestimate me,” he whispers, peeling my back off the door and carrying me like I’m made of glass. Down the short hall and into the bathroom, Sig deposits me on my feet to stand on the toilet seat lid. “I have other things to show you. Did I mention that?”
“No,” I admit, already feeling breathless with anticipation, like I haven’t had countless orgasms already.
Sig’s smile is devilish, pure and simple. “Then let me tell you a little story.”
And he does. Less than an hour later, when I’ve lost the feeling in my legs from the most mind-numbing orgasm I’ve ever experienced, I realize that Sig was right. I should never underestimate him.