Chapter 25 Misty #2
A third finger slides into my aching, wet cunt as I think about a cock in my pussy.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been fucked,” I pant.
“Damn, Gumdrop. You are a fucking little slut.” The words are muffled.
“Fuck me, please,” I whimper as he continues to finger-munch me, slow and filthy.
“I want you to be good and ready for me. I want you to be willing to do anything for my cock. I want you ready to kill for my cock.”
My eyelashes flutter as his tongue curls in my pussy.
Then he pulls back.
“Please,” I beg, “please don’t leave me like this. I need you, I need you, god, I need your cock in me.”
His fingers are still moving in me, slowly. My hips follow the movement. “I could watch you like this all fucking afternoon, just fucking yourself on my fingers.”
My tits are sore and raw as he reaches for them and rolls the nipples under his fingers.
He adds a fourth finger, and I jerk away from him as he spreads me.
He grabs my breast, the pain keeping me from struggling away from him as he forces me to take all four fingers, fisting them deep inside my pussy.
“You’re going to wish this was all you had inside of you when I’m ramming you with my cock.”
I moan, my knees spreading as I shift, trying to take him all in me. He slides one knee forward so he can dip his head to lap at my clit.
“I like a nice smooth pussy.” He trails the tip of his tongue along my dripping slit as I shudder. “Beg me for it.”
“I want you to make me come.”
“Louder.”
“I can’t,” I whimper, clenching my teeth against the moan.
The fingers slide in and out of me. So close, so close.
“Please,” I cry, “please, I need to come.” I drop on my forearms, spreading my legs as wide as I can for him. “Talbot.” The moan is throaty. “Make me come, please. I want you to make me come.”
I hope no one hears, but I need this. I can never make myself come like I know he will.
His fingers surge in me. His tongue slides hard and rough against my clit, then I’m gushing, coming as I scream out the orgasm and his name. He milks it with his tongue and his fingers.
“Oh my god.” I roll over on my back, completely not caring that I’m naked in front of a man I barely know. “This is very unlike me, I need you to know—day drinking. Sleeping with strangers.”
“I think you mean letting strange men make you come.” He smirks.
I peer at him. “How are you not hard? Wait, did I suck?” I grab at a blanket, suddenly self-conscious.
Talbot rips it off of me. “I have incredible self-control. I once hung upside down for eight hours just to push a brick off a building.” He hands me the whiskey bottle.
“So I think I can wait around for your pussy to get so fucking hot for me that you practically rub it in my face, begging for my cock.”
I shiver. “This is why you shouldn’t day drink. It leads to terrible decisions, like sex with the hitman you accidentally hired.”
I can’t read the expression on Talbot’s face.
I suddenly, desperately want the post-sex cuddling just to pretend that this means something other than him being stuck with me because he has to kill my ex and can’t go sleep around in Aspen with all the pretty blond ski bunnies.
“Do you want me to…” I pat the bed near me then cringe when I realize how awkward it’s going to be when he makes up some excuse.
I’m saved by angry steps echoing down the hallway. Or maybe not saved.
I grab at the blanket right as my mom throws the door open.
I hear my little sister’s voice. “I told you not to go in there. She’s changing!”
“I am her—” My mom screams when she sees us. “That was you making that noise? You”—she turns on Lucy—“said it was one of your brothers watching…” Rachel trails off, fumbling the word.
“Porn,” Lucy says snottily.
“Too much time on that phone.” GrandPam is a step behind my mom, berating her. “Good mothers don’t have nine-year-old daughters who know… all of that.”
“I’m almost ten,” Lucy argues. “I’m ten in a month.”
“Lucy,” our mom hisses.
“I have two friends with their periods,” my sister argues.
“Oh my god.” I clap my hands over my ears, which sends the blanket sinking.
“When she ends up pregnant as a teenager and ruins her life, not to mention the life of an unsuspecting man from a good family, it will be your fault, make no mistake,” Grandma Pam thunders. “And that baby needs to be changed.”
“I just changed him, Pamela, thank you.”
“Mom! Moooom!” The four-year-old grabs at her.
“Misty, can you put some clothes on? For the love of god, my life is hard enough as it is.”
“She might want to shower first. I think she’s got Talbot all over her.” Brielle materializes like the Wicked Witch of the WAGs, inspecting her perfectly manicured nails.
She takes in Talbot’s shirtless but generally undisheveled state.
“Or not. Misty didn’t do it for you? She’s such a baaad girlfriend.
Runs in the family. Better be careful,” she purrs.
“I bet you have a lot of money saved up from the military. She’s probably looking to be a, what is it called… a dependopotamus.”
“Dependopotamus!” the four-year-old shrieks, jumping around.
“Misty, can you help me with the kids?” my mom chastises. She looks pissed. “Honestly, Misty, the game is tonight. It’s family night. You haven’t done anything I need you to do. Ryan’s family will be here this evening. There isn’t any food made. Don’t you know how this is going to look?”
“No one will starve.” I try to calm Mom down. “I already have the food prepped. I just need to put it in the Crock-Pots and bake the brie.”
It isn’t working. Rachel looks like she’s about to freak out.
“Look, can you all just get out of my room so I can shower?” I beg. “Not you, Talbot.”
Grandma Pam huffs.
“Hurry up, Talbot, please,” my mom says. “You need to go home. Misty, I need you to help me. Brielle says all the WAGs decided to wear different outfits, and I apparently missed the message somehow.”
“A good housewife should be better at organization.”
“Yes, Pamela.” My mom sounds shrieky.
“Brielle never sent you a message,” Lucy says matter-of-factly.
“Of course I did. How dare you.” Brielle is offended.
“You used to do the same thing with Misty,” Lucy tells Brielle.
“Do you hear how she lies, how she slanders people?” Brielle yells, pointing at Lucy. “You’re alienating her against me. I bet you’re alienating her against my father as well.”
“It’s that horrible school you have her in!” Grandma Pam thunders. “They had them making vegan gingerbread houses.”
“The horror!” Brielle chimes in.
“Lucy,” Mom snaps at my little sister, “go get ready for the game. Misty, why are you still in bed?”
“I do not have any clothes on.”
That sets off Grandma Pam. “Don’t you dare get pregnant. I’m not taking care of another kid!” she thunders.
“Don’t you get pregnant. I’m not taking care of any more of your children.
” I’m still mildly horny and more than a bit drunk.
I want a bath and for Talbot to finish what he started and to forget about the fact that I used to be the one getting all primped to head into the city for the big hockey game.
Granny Keagan stomps up, carrying an armful of clothes. “As if she’d be getting laid with that old-lady perfume? Her vag smells like mothballs.”
“Mom, please, there are children present.”
“Mothball vag! Mothball vag!” the four-year-old chants.
“I need to make sure this jacket fits you.” Granny Keagan holds it up to my mother.
Talbot wordlessly takes the baby.
“You’re letting a man hold your child?” Pam is indignant.
“Just need to take this in a little…” Granny Keagan pulls a pin out of her mouth.
“Ryan will be hearing about this,” Grandma Pam says over her.
“Misty, please just stop this cry for help or whatever is going on with you,” Rachel says as Granny Keagan manhandles her. “You know how the press already treats me. This is a big game.”
“Against the Rhode Islanders?” Lucy makes a face.
“Talbot.” My mom takes the baby back. “You need to go home. This is a family event. I’m sorry.”
Grandma Pam looks triumphant, like she’s won.
“You’re not going to let him come?” Brielle twists one of her freshly curled blond locks around her finger and pouts. “Did you ask my dad? Maybe he wants him to come. I mean, Dad invited Talbot as a guest into his house.”
“It’s our house,” my mom snaps.
“Is it? I mean, he bought it.” Brielle levels her gaze at Rachel. “You just freeloaded your way in here.”
My mom’s shoulders sag. Brielle just can’t resist an opportunity to undercut my mother.
“I am so sorry, Talbot.” Brielle traces his tattoos.
She’s moving in on my territory, crossing boundaries just like she used to do with Austen.
I suddenly have the urge to puke up my Christmas cookies.
I don’t want to stand there all game, watching Brielle steal him from me.
Shoot, Talbot was barely even hard after all of that.
He saw me naked, and he does not think I’m attractive.
That’s pretty obvious. We won’t make it until the end of the hockey game before Talbot and Brielle are all over each other in the bathroom.
At least then, at the surprise wedding, I can be the one to stand up and say, “I object!”
A guilty part of me secretly wonders if Austen would take me back if Talbot got Brielle pregnant.
Would I rather have Austen or Talbot?
Who am I kidding? I’m totally delusional. Neither man wants me, not really.