The Home Court Advantage
Page 8

“We need to clean up,” I said, smiling brightly and filling the water with bubbles. All I needed was some pearls and I could have been June Cleaver. I was looking like such a wholesome little housewife.
“We’ll clean up later,” Braden said, coming up behind me as stealthily as a panther and putting his arms around my waist. “I’ve been really horny for over three hours. It’s unhealthy.”
“According to you I’m going to be too tired later,” I reminded him.
“The cleaning lady’s coming tomorrow.” He ran his hands over my hips.
“You can’t leave a bunch of crusty dishes out all night. You’ll get bugs.” I didn’t feel guilty about building up a little more anticipation, because I knew that I was going to rock his world that night anyway.
“Fine. You do the dishes. I’ll just occupy myself while I wait,” he said as he leaned down and nuzzled the base of my neck. I could feel his warm breath and then his soft lips and then finally his hot tongue as he trailed open-mouthed kisses all the way up to my ear.
“Braden.” A warm tingling sensation flowed through my body and I started breathing faster. My panties were probably wetter than the dishes already.
“Don’t mind me,” he said huskily, and began sucking on my earlobe and once again moving his tongue the way that he moved it when he went down on me. It was a not-so-subtle reminder of what else we could be doing besides housework. My clit screamed at my brain in protest. Then he started lightly brushing his fingers across my br**sts and I moved from tingly girl parts to achy girl parts. I pushed my bottom back against him and I could feel how hard he was again. I rubbed up against him like a cat. Mother Nature was good – so very good. Even though I wanted him desperately at that moment, I also liked how much he was trying to convince me. Let him work for it a little. I was worth the effort.
“If you would stop distracting me…” I swallowed hard and let out a ragged breath.
“Don’t let me stop you. I know how important the dishes are,” he said as he reached back and unhooked my bra. His hands traveled up under my shirt to cup my br**sts and pinch my ni**les the way I liked it again, and it felt infinitely better against my bare skin. When he began gently squeezing them between his fingers, chills ran through my body and goosebumps formed on my arms.
Have I mentioned that I love doing dishes? The smell of Palmolive would probably make me come like a Pavlov dog after this. Okay, so technically Pavlov’s dogs didn’t come, they salivated, but you get the point. I could feel his breathing getting heavy and his heart racing. I knew how much he wanted me too and that his self-control was stretched thin. That, in and of itself, would have been enough to drive me crazy, but then one hand left my breast and slid into my panties and all bets were off. My brain had left the building and my cha-cha had stayed behind to party down and get funky.
“You must find doing dishes very stimulating, because you’re really wet, baby,” he teased.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you,” I said breathlessly. “I just said I wanted to tidy up a little first so your cleaning lady wouldn’t think your fiancée was a slob.” My voice sounded as rough as sandpaper and I was starting to tremble.
“I’ll tell her that you make up for it in bed,” he whispered in my ear seductively and I almost hit the floor. Jesus Tap Dancing Christ! This man was off the charts sexy! I started pushing my hips forward and I leaned back against him, panting. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to finish the dishes?” he teased.
“You’re so naughty, Braden,” said the woman grinding her cha-cha against his hand.
“You’re so ready, Gabrielle,” he practically purred. Oh that was just too much!
“Oh God! Braden, I need you!” I gasped and reached down to put my hand over his and press his fingers against me harder.
“You need me to what?” he asked in a low sultry voice. “Dry?”
“I need you inside me,” I panted, feeling myself about to lose control.
“Now?”
Oh shit! I give up! You win! You win! You win the freaking teasing game! AARGH! I heard the click click of nails on the floor. Oh no. No! No! No!
“Yes now, Braden! Bruno, honey, go play with your toys for a while,” I said desperately.
“That’s right, Bruno, Daddy’s playing with his toys,” Braden said, sounding amused. He was keeping pressure on my clit with his thumb and teasing me by skimming his other fingers over my entrance but not giving me the penetration I was aching for. My entire body felt like it was on fire. How did he learn this stuff? Okay, don’t think about that, Gabrielle. Bruno looked up at us curiously, checked out the scene from a few different angles, and then thankfully, got bored and moved on.
“Oh God, Braden, I need it so badly right now, baby,” I moaned. “And just to be clear I mean sex! Stage three! Stage three!”
“But what if we get bugs?” I could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Braden, f**k me right now! Please?!” After all, my parents raised me to be polite. Apparently “please” was a magic word! Although I think that the “fuck me” was pretty effective too. He spun me around and yanked my shorts and panties down over my hips. Then he lifted me up to seat me on the counter, and while I slid them the rest of the way off, he opened up his jeans and freed Mother Nature’s generous gift to both of us. Sweet baby Jesus and two hump camel, it never ceased to amaze me that I managed to accommodate him so well. I must have a vagina like a Tardis – a Dr. Who-hah. And, Oh my God, I’m a geek! He pulled his T-shirt over his head and stood there looking more appetizing than anything in any other kitchen anywhere. I wanted to count his muscles with my tongue. He smiled with naughty anticipation, pushed my legs apart, positioned himself at my entrance, grabbed my hips… and froze when he heard the really loud scream-like noise that wasn’t coming from me for a change. Bruno started barking immediately.
“Oh no! No! Not now!” he shouted.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Is that a fire alarm?” Maybe my body wasn’t all that was on fire. Or maybe I was already in stage three and it involved a bunch of Dementors shrieking in my head.
He groaned, swore and managed somehow to close his pants over one raging example of healthy maleness. Oh man. No fair. I was just going to get to play with my toys.
“They do drills periodically for insurance purposes,” he said, in a very angry voice, pulling on his T-shirt again and yanking it down to cover the evidence of said healthy maleness for the second time that evening. I wouldn’t want to be a Prudential agent right now. “Baby, get dressed while I get Bruno’s leash.”