Chapter 28 #2
Megan tosses the salad one last time while I pull the wings from the oven, the heat warming my face as I set them beside the rolls. We’ve got quite the spread, and I can’t wait to load up my plate, cuddle up next to Jensen, and watch the sibling banter.
Oh yeah, and the game.
At halftime, all the guys head into the kitchen for more drinks and food. Jensen grabs a beer and vanishes down the hallway toward our room.
I push up from the couch and head to the kitchen to throw my plate away, telling myself I won’t pick at the food again, but as I pass the charcuterie, I can’t help swiping a piece of cheese from it.
“Hey, Megan,” Matt calls out to the living room from across the kitchen.
Megan turns her head. “Yeah?”
“Who’s winning?” Matt’s grin is so smug he might as well have “fuck you” tattooed across his forehead.
“That’s tiny dick energy, Matt!” Megan fires back without missing a beat.
God, these two. They need their own show.
I park my ass back down on the couch, settling in for the halftime show. Snoop Dogg and Eminem, are you kidding me? This is going to be great.
My phone dings.
It’s my dad. He’s sent a picture of him, Michael, and Stella.
Dad
Miss you, Alley girl.
My heart swells. I could honestly burst just trying to wrap my head around having my dad back in my life. I’m grinning like a fool as I text back.
I miss you too, Dad! All of you! Who you rooting for?
Dad
The Rams, of course.
Michael chimes in. I didn’t even realize he was in the thread.
Michael
The BENGALS. Dad’s delusional.
I laugh softly, completely lost in the texts, the halftime show forgotten. I hold up my phone, snap a quick selfie in my Bengals jersey, and send it.
But honestly, I’m just here for the food and the halftime show. Lol.
Dad
Well, enjoy the show. Love you.
Love you!
My eyes fill with happy tears. It feels silly that something so simple could bring this much joy, but it does.
It’s been too damn long. For so long, I felt like I was drifting, not really belonging anywhere.
I had Michael, and sure, he’ll always be my brother—my family.
But without a parent, I felt like a stray—wandering, lost, always searching for somewhere to call home.
I found home with Jensen, but now with my dad back—it’s tenfold.
My head snaps up. Where the hell is Jensen? He’s missing the halftime show. I know he had a lot of wings, but he’s been gone for ten minutes.
I rub my temples, a headache starting to creep in as I text him.
Hey, everything okay? Haha.
Jensen
Jesus. I’m not taking a shit… Just lying down for a minute. Cum sit on my dick.
I shake my head, grinning.
What do I get out of it?
Jensen
Is that even a question? Cum find out.
A laugh slips out of me.
Hmm. Idk. I’m not convinced yet.
Jensen
I’ll go down on you.
It’s a no brainer, baby.
Get over here. I’ll eat you out, then fuck you. And if you’re a good girl, I’ll hold you after.
Oh my God. Wow. I shift in my seat, already wet, anticipation fluttering low in my core.
Annnnnnnd tsunami.
Cumming!
I hop off the couch, excited, needing him, and insanely turned on. He hasn’t been this flirty in a long time, and God, I’m so here for it. I practically run down the hall, turn into the bedroom, shut the door behind me, and twist the lock.
Jensens propped against a stack of pillows, shirtless, a sexy grin resting on his lips. “I knew I could lure you in here.”
I walk over to the bed and bend down, kissing him gently before pulling back. His hand wraps around my ass.
“Where’s your ibuprofen?” I ask as he pulls me in for another kiss. “I’ve got a bit of a headache.”
“Ah, that sucks. I’ll get it for you.” He starts to move, but I press a hand to his chest.
“You don’t have to get up. I can get it.”
He swings his legs over the bed anyway. “Yeah, but it’s buried in my backpack somewhere. I’ll find it.”
Standing, he walks to the other side of the room and begins sifting through his backpack. He glances at me with a smirk. “Take your clothes off. I want you in your underwear when I get back over there.”
“Yes, sir.” I say, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it aside, my eyes never leaving him.
He cocks a brow, then twists the lid off the bottle and dumps a few pills into his hand—some brown, others white.
“What else you got in there?” I ask.
“Tylenol and my muscle relaxer.” His eyes flick to mine. “I just keep it all in one bottle so I don’t have to carry three around.”
“Makes sense.” I peel off my leggings as he screws the lid back on, his gaze locking on me.
“Get on the bed,” he commands. “And put your sleeping mask on.”
My bottom lip rolls between my teeth. I love when Jensen goes all Dom on me. It’s not something I ever expected to like, but I do. I love it. Crawling across the bed, I grab my sleeping mask and slide it over my eyes, anticipation coursing through me.
Seconds later, my legs are yanked from beneath me, and I’m dragged to the edge of the bed. He sits me up, his lips ghosting over mine.
“Open your mouth.”
I do as I’m told, opening my mouth as he places two pills on my tongue. Then he takes my hand and wraps my fingers around the Hydro Flask I keep on the nightstand.
I take a sip, washing down the pills. Once I’ve swallowed, Jensen takes the bottle from my hands.
His breath warms my ear. “You’re about to get a halftime show you’ll never forget.”
Shivers ripple down my spine as his lips brush against my skin, trailing slowly down my neck, each kiss intensified by the darkness behind my sleeping mask.
A gasp falls from my lips, and my hands instinctively reach for him, but strong fingers close around my wrists, guiding them down to my sides.
“Try not to touch,” he says, his voice low and grave.
I force my hands to stay put, but I’m aching to pull him closer, to feel his skin against mine, to make him feel what I’m feeling.
A warm palm presses against my chest, guiding me back until I’m lying flat on the bed. He holds it there for a moment, and I savor the comfort of it.
Slowly, he drags his hand down my torso, over the curve of my stomach, until he reaches my waistband. His fingers hook around the sides of my underwear, dragging them slowly down my thighs, over my calves, until they fall to the floor.
He opens my legs, splaying them flat against the bed, cool air sweeping the center of my thighs, sending goosebumps down my legs.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t you move.”
The door opens and closes, and I’m left here—legs spread, blindfolded, vulnerable—wondering what the hell he’s doing. I almost laugh at the thought of someone walking in. What a scene that would be.
The door opens again a minute later, and I rely solely on my ears to piece together what’s happening.
There’s a soft rattling sound, then the shift of weight on the bed as Jensen hovers over me. His lips lightly sweep across mine, taunting. I lift my head, reaching for him, my mouth grazing skin.
He pulls away. “I said no touching.”
I let out a dramatic whine, playing it up. He loves that—the need, the want, the desire.
A moment later, his mouth finds mine again, cold and wet.
Ice.
He drags an ice cube from his mouth across my lips, my tongue instinctively licking the moisture from my lips.
The cold trails down over my jaw, along my neck, across my collarbone. I shiver, breath catching as it continues lower. When the ice hits my nipple, I gasp, my back arching.
He chuckles wickedly, swirling the ice around the hardened peak. Then there’s warmth, cooled heat, his mouth replacing the ice as he sucks my nipple into his mouth, his hand palming the other breast.
“God, babe, that feels so good,” I breathe.
My hands slide up, gripping his shoulders out of pure habit, but his teeth clamp gently around my nipple—a warning.
“I said no touching.” His voice is rough, heated, and it’s so damn hot.
He moves again, trailing a line down my stomach. My hips shift beneath him, the chill of the cold mixed with pulsing desire, sending a rush straight to the center of my thighs.
He kisses, then sucks at the sharp edge of my hip bone.
Then, more rattling.
More ice.
The cold returns in an instant, trailing down my thighs, teasing all around where I’m aching with need. His fingers follow the path, tracing over my skin.
Then—nothing. No touch. No sound.
“Jensen?” I whisper, soft, needy.
“Shh.”
Good Lord. He’s so good at this.
Without warning, cold hits my clit, and I jerk, the chill mingling with my arousal in the best possible way.
“Holy shit. That’s incredible,” I breathe.
He teases me with the ice, alternating the shocking cold with the heat of his mouth, sucking my clit, lapping up the moisture.
His fingers plunge into me, and the rise of my climax builds fast, gaining strength, ready to crash through me. Gripping my hips, he gives me the best damn halftime show a girl could dream of—and then some.
My orgasm rips through me like a tidal wave, wild and all-consuming. My back arches, body trembling. He holds me through it, his mouth still pressed to me, working me through every last pulse until I’m nothing but a melted, panting mess.
When he’s done, after doing exactly what he said he’d do, he holds me.
I tighten my arms around his, savoring the feel of both our heartbeats.
Mine pounds against my chest; his is steady against my back, spooning me.
Eventually, they sync, settling into a steady rhythm, beating as one, and I forget about that five percent that’s been off lately.
The tension that’s been creeping in more and more.
I close my eyes, soaking in the warmth of his skin on mine—the closeness.
It’s beautiful, and it always has been. With him, it’s always been easy. He gets me.
God, I don’t want to move. I could lay like this forever.
We make it back to the living room just in time for the fourth quarter, and everyone gives us shit for being gone so long. They know what we were up to, obviously.
The Rams win, and Matt’s celebration is exactly what you’d expect—loud, dramatic, and completely in-your-face.
Jensen pulls me into his lap, his arms tightening around me. I fold mine over his and let my gaze drift around the room. The love in this room wraps around me, and for a second, I could cry from how full my heart is.
I tighten my grip on Jensen’s forearms and silently vow to never forget this moment, to engrave it into my memory.