26. Cole
Cole
“Can we have a movie night?” Crew asked around a mouthful of pasta.
For the first few days after his head injury, he was nauseous as hell, but then his appetite returned with a vengeance. I’d had to double our usual grocery order just to be able to keep up with feeding the bottomless pit, otherwise known as my brother.
“You’re not allowed to look at screens,” I pointed out.
He rolled his eyes with a huff. “Don’t remind me.”
“Forgive me for thinking you forgot when you suggested we watch a movie.”
“If we pick one I’ve seen a million times, I can sit in the recliner with my eyes shut and picture exactly what’s happening.”
“Doesn’t sound like much fun.” Certainly wasn’t something I would want to do if our positions were reversed.
Crew’s fork clattered to the table. “It’s better than doing nothing. This concussion shit sucks.”
I held my hand up. “Okay, okay. We can have a movie night.”
“Thank you,” he said on a heavy exhale.
My twin might be on the road to recovery, but I could tell just by looking at him that he still wasn’t at one hundred percent. Dark stubble lined his jaw because he couldn’t be bothered to shave, and the glasses he hardly ever wore anymore had become a permanent fixture on his face.
If listening to the familiar words of one of his favorite movies helped make him feel better, who was I to say no?
“Which movie did you have in mind?” Bridget asked, stepping in to diffuse the tension.
A mischievous grin curved on his lips. “Can we do the one where they go to Vegas for a bachelor party and get accidentally roofied and can’t remember anything that happened the night before?”
My girl’s laughter filled the air. “Oh my God. Do you remember when we snuck in to see that at the movie theater because it was rated R and we weren’t old enough?”
“How could I forget, when this one”—Crew hitched a thumb in my direction—“was a total stick in the mud, refusing to come in and insisting we watch the movie we paid to see.”
Bridget placed a loving hand on my forearm. “Aw, come on. It’s kinda cute how he’s always been such a rule-follower.”
“Rules exist for a reason, you know,” I grumbled under my breath.
“Soooooo, is that a yes to the movie?” Crew hedged.
Even if I was a little salty that they were making fun of my moral compass, I agreed with a “Sure, why not?”
“Yes!” My brother fist-pumped the air in victory before shoving back from the table and declaring, “I’m gonna make popcorn.”
This was the most animated I’d seen him since the injury, and I could admit it was nice to see a hint of his signature spark returning.
Thirty minutes later, the movie was playing on the flatscreen TV in the living room. Crew was in my leather recliner, eyes closed and mouthing every word of dialogue, while Bridget was curled into my side on the sofa, a blanket covering most of her body.
I chuckled at the part where they found a tiger in the bathroom as my fingers drew lazy circles on Bridget’s hip.
She sighed in contentment, snuggling into my chest.
Emboldened, I skimmed the exposed strip of skin at the waistband of her leggings. Her breathing hitched as I moved back and forth along the line, keeping my touch featherlight.
“Cole.” My name was both a warning and a plea on her lips.
Dipping my head, I placed my mouth directly beside her ear. “His eyes are closed. If you keep quiet, he’ll never know.”
When you were sneaking around with your best friend’s little sister, you learned to get creative, and Bridget and I had gotten handsy beneath a blanket—with no one being any the wiser—more times than I could count.
I dragged the callous pad of a fingertip over her lower belly again, dipping beneath the stretchy fabric of her pants a fraction of an inch. “Is this okay?”
Her lips lifted, and she hummed in the affirmative.
“I need words, beautiful.”
“Don’t you dare stop.” She gripped my forearm, shoving my hand down the front of her leggings.
“So needy,” I rumbled in her ear.
She shifted restlessly. “Mm-hmm.”
My hand continued its trek south, and a growl was pulled from my chest when I made direct contact with the neatly trimmed hair covering her mound. “Where the fuck are your panties, Bridget?”
Her head fell back onto my shoulder. “Oops.”
I tsked. “Such a dirty girl.”
It was so fucking hot to think that only a thin layer of spandex had been separating me from her pussy all damn day.
“Your dirty girl,” she panted.
Fuck, I was so hard I could barely see straight. This woman coming into her own sexually might very well be the death of me.
My eyes darted toward Crew in the recliner to ensure his eyes were still closed—they were—before plunging between Bridget’s spread thighs. A hiss escaped past my lips when my fingers dragged through the slickness there, gliding easily through her slit.
Burying my face in her hair, I groaned. “Goddamn, you’re drenched. Does it turn you on knowing we could be caught any second?”
She arched against me with a breathy “Yes.”
I nipped at her earlobe. “Me too. I’m so fucking hard right now.”
“I wanna feel you.”
Repositioning the blanket so it covered my lap, I guided her hand to where my dick tented the front of my sweats, so that she could grip me through the fabric.
When she gave a firm squeeze, pleasure surged in my veins, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek to suppress a moan. My hips lifted, thrusting into her hold, while I began stroking circles over her clit, teasing that swollen bud before plunging two fingers deep inside her.
The intrusion caused a sharp gasp to split the air, and we both froze, our eyes darting toward where Crew sat.
If he caught us fooling around mere feet away, the teasing would be endless.
He’d be bringing it up at all manner of gatherings—holidays, birthdays, weddings—from now until the end of time.
My lungs emptied in pure relief when he remained motionless. And I couldn’t help but notice that his lips had stopped moving, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.
“I think he’s fallen asleep,” I whispered.
Almost as if on cue, there was a soft snore to confirm my suspicion.
Bridget’s entire body relaxed, and she resumed grinding against my hand.
“Here’s how this is gonna go.” I was aroused out of my mind, so my voice had gone gravelly. “I’m gonna fuck you with my hand, right here on this couch, and you’re going to do your best not to make a single sound. Then, I’m gonna take you upstairs and let you have your wicked way with me.”
“Yes, please,” she purred.
I sank my teeth into the flesh of her shoulder as my fingers picked up the pace, pumping into her with expert precision, curling just enough to drag along her front wall to hit her G-spot with every pass.
Her hand tightened around my cock, making stars burst across my vision and a grunt fall from my lips.
“Quiet, baby,” came her quiet taunt.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” I growled.
“Counting on it,” she retorted.
Game on.
Without withdrawing from her warmth, I used my thumb to stimulate her clit while I continued to finger-fuck her so hard that the squelching noises echoed in my ears. Her thighs clamped down, trapping me between them, as she bucked furiously in desperate search of release.
“You’re right there, aren’t you, beautiful?”
“Please, Cole. I need—”
“I know exactly what you need.” My words came out strained, all my muscles tensed in the effort to keep from blowing in my pants like a teenager. “And I’m going to give it to you.”
She whimpered when I put firm pressure on that magic spot inside her. “When?”
“Right now,” I grunted.
My free hand went to her tits, plucking at the stiff peaks through her shirt.
Pinching and pulling, I felt a shudder roll through her from head to toe.
Then her back arched, her pussy clamping down like a vise around the digits buried deep inside her, as she let out a near-silent gasp, soaking my hand, her pants, and the couch when she came.
I kept my motions steady, letting her ride out every last wave of pleasure, until finally, she grew limp in my arms, a blissful sigh falling from her lips.
Bridget’s exhales came in sharp staccato bursts that matched the rhythmic throbbing of my dick.
Bringing my glistening fingers into view, I asked, “You want to do the honors, or shall I?”
With zero hesitation, she gripped my wrist, sucking the digits into her mouth. Her tongue swirled to lick off every last trace of her arousal from my skin, and I couldn’t help but imagine her giving my cock the same treatment.
As if she could read my mind, Bridget released my fingers with a wet pop and turned, pressing a kiss to the center of my chest, then another to my abs, murmuring, “Your turn.”
I halted her progress with a gentle hand in her hair. “Upstairs.”
She peered up at me with hazy, lust-filled eyes, a lopsided grin on her face. “Take me to bed, Cole.”
With pleasure.