Talkin' Trash
Page 19

 Lani Lynn Vale

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I mounted the bike then held out my hand for her, loving the way she easily fit up against me.
Despite her utter filthiness, she wrapped her hands around my body and plastered herself to me.
Which was, of course, when the damn flashes started to go off.
“Hold on, darlin’.”
I started the bike and took off, and I still had to do some evasive driving to ditch the four reporters following us, hoping for Conleigh’s sake that they didn’t get the huge splash of mud on her ass in the pictures they took of us.
When we arrived at my place, Conleigh was leaning on me heavily.
Her arms were so loose around my waist that I’d locked one hand around her wrists and hadn’t let go.
When I pulled the bike into my garage and shut it off, I expected her to stir.
She didn’t.
Letting her wrist go, I gave her leg a shake and said, “Come on Sleeping Beauty. Let’s go shower.”
“I’m so tired,” she said. “I feel like I just ran a marathon,” she said without moving her face away from my back.
“Adrenaline crash,” I explained.
I got up, forcing her to either move or fall.
She moved, then gave me the cutest glare ever.
She glanced around and frowned. “I thought we were going to the clubhouse?”
I’d intended to, but when she’d started to fall asleep, I’d decided to come to my place. I had a shower at my place and a t-shirt she could slip on.
What did it matter if she didn’t have any clothes? I could go get her some tomorrow.
“We were, but then you fell asleep against me while on a motorcycle, I remembered there were only two bathrooms at the clubhouse to share between whoever wants to be there at any moment in time and remembered that I have an interview at seven tomorrow morning. I can go get you clothes afterward,” I explained, knowing she was curious.
She stood up while still straddling the bike, and then leaned over to grasp the handlebars.
I felt my cock twitch at the sight of her bent over so pretty and took a mental picture for my spank bank vault.
She threw her leg over once she was holding on, but her balance was still off and she started to teeter. I was there before the wobble could turn into a fall and helped her off the bike.
She slumped into me when I didn’t move away, the helmet on her head nearly knocking me in the chin in the process.
“Whoa,” I said, pushing her head away before she could give me a concussion. “Let’s get this off before you mess up my beautiful face.”
She laughed and started to fumble with the straps.
It took her a few tries, but eventually she got it, setting it gently on the seat.
“Sorry,” she murmured around a yawn, then straightened out of my arms and started a side shuffle toward the garage door that led into my kitchen. “Jesus, I’m tired.”
“After the day that you had.” I followed closely behind her, flicking on lights as she moved slowly in front of me. “I don’t blame you for being a zombie.”
She groaned. “I’m not getting any studying done tonight. Or tomorrow. I’m literally going to wake up and go. Make sure you get me something appropriate to wear to school for an hour. Something that at least covers my ass,” she ordered.
I bit my lip. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her issuing sleepy orders was the best thing since sliced bread.
Her being in my house, on the way to my shower, while she made those orders?
Priceless.
“Let’s go get you clean.”
She shuffled into the bathroom that was closest and slammed the door.
I closed my eyes and then leaned my head against the cool wood.
This woman had absolutely no idea what she was capable of doing to me.
None.
Chapter 11
Technically speaking, there is a lot of food in the house. Unfortunately, none of it is sweet or sounds good. Therefore, there is no food in the house.
-Text from Conleigh to Linc
Conleigh
I woke up alone in a strange bed, but I wasn’t too worried.
I remembered everything that had happened last night. Everything.
From the sweet way that Linc never let go of me, to the way he’d practically doted on me.
He’d luckily had the spare bathroom fully stocked with showering essentials—which I did find odd seeing as he lived alone and had no need for spare shower essentials—and I’d been able to take a shower, rinsing the day off of me along with the stupid swamp mud that felt like it’d never go away.
I was fairly sure that I still had clumps of mud in my hair, but I would worry about those later at my own place.
After my shower last night, I’d gotten out only to find that at some point Linc had deposited some clothes for me to wear—a gold and brown t-shirt that had the team’s logo on it, as well as a pair of boxer briefs that were snug despite them being made for Linc’s shapely ass.
After donning the t-shirt and the too-tight underwear, I rinsed my panties and bra out and hung them over the towel rack to dry. I went into Linc’s bedroom and belly flopped on his bed while he was still in the shower.
And that was the last that I’d remembered until just then, waking up in an empty bed with the house almost completely silent around me.
The only thing I could hear was the air conditioner blowing through the vents in the bedroom.
That’s when I started to notice the smell of the pillow, and my brain started to fire on a few cylinders. Those few cylinders all centering on one thing—my vagina.
Linc could control me whether he was in the room or not. Whether I’d talked to him that day, or whether it’d been weeks. All I really had to do was think about him and things started to get out of control—down there. But having his scent in my nostrils? Yeah, it was a recipe for disaster.
Not that I really thought about what I was doing.
After glancing once at the clock to see that it was barely eight in the morning, I decided that I had time.
Had time for what, you ask?
I had time to masturbate to the smell of the man that I’ve had a crush on for so long that it was getting downright ridiculous. I should’ve moved on years ago. I should’ve ignored my feelings and pursued other more attainable men.
But I didn’t.
Because I was a goner.
I loved the stupid man.
I let my hand skim up the t-shirt that I was wearing, and felt my nipples tighten.
The t-shirt was old and soft, one that had been worn and washed probably a hundred thousand times.
It was one of the ones that he worked out in. I knew because not only had I seen him wearing it before, but I’d also looked at photos of him online—I had him set up as a Google alert—working out with the team in it.
It felt like silk against my hardened nipples.
My legs shifted restlessly under the same covers that Linc curled his body up in every night.
I turned and buried my nose in his pillow, smelling the scent of his shampoo, as well as the beard oil that he put in his beard to keep it shiny and pretty.
I’d bought it for him for Christmas and sent it to him.
He’d sent me nightly pictures for a week showing me how well it tamed his once-untamable beard.
I groaned and let my hand slip underneath the large down comforter I was covered with.
I groaned at the thought that he’d seen me last night and again this morning with so little clothing—possibly seen things that I’d wanted him to take advantage of for a very long time.
I wasn’t a naïve girl anymore.
I knew my body’s wants, likes, and dislikes. I knew that it craved him more than it craved anything else in this world.
All I had to do was think about him. His mouth. The way he would taste. And I was ready to come on the spot.
Kind of like right now, I thought dreamily.
My hand slipped under the band of his boxer briefs, hurriedly finding that tiny little bud between my labia that begged for his touch.
It was distended and swollen. Ready.
I licked my lips as I circled the tiny nub.
Then I started to daydream about what he would do to me. What he could’ve done to me last night—what I would’ve liked for him to do to me last night.
He walked out of the shower and saw me laying there, sprawled out on my belly in his bed, stopping momentarily to enjoy the sight.