Chapter 7 #2
Though muffled, I hear his whimpers, and he loosens his grip on my thighs, sliding his hands over my ass and back down again.
With one of his fingers pushing past my entrance, now massaging my clit with his tongue, the heat in my belly grows exponentially, traveling out from my torso and down my limbs.
My body tenses, my toes curl, then all of a sudden, my body lets go, my release gushing out of me.
An orgasm has never been this good before, and I have to sink my teeth into my lower lip to keep from screaming my boss’s name.
My pussy twitches with each shockwave of pleasure, and sweat rolls down my spine when I shakily straighten and walk my knees backward to sit lower on Forest’s stomach.
The man gasps for breath, his chest heaving up and down, his shirt dampening beneath me. “You’re a squirter,” he says with his pupils blown wide.
That’s news to me, and it explains why my thighs and his face are so wet. I grimace. “Sorry.”
“Don’t ever apologize for that. So hot.”
“Yeah?” I comb back his messy hair from his forehead, my mouth dry from all my panting and moaning and begging him to keep going just like that, baby.
Other than when Bryce, a study buddy in college, called me “Sunshine”, I’ve always hated sickly sweet pet names—so where did that come from?
I eye Forest with some concern. “I didn’t give you permanent brain damage from cutting off your oxygen, did I? ”
He shakes his head, air sawing in and out of his lungs as he lightly caresses my skin with the tips of his fingers.
“Good. Now do it again.” I scramble up and hop on his face, much to his pleasure, if his enthusiasm is anything to go by.
Talk about awkward. The minute I come down from my second orgasm, there’s a pounding on the front door. Forest’s discarded phone screen brightens with a notification from the doorbell camera, complete with a tiny snapshot of my dad waiting on the stoop.
“I’m so fired,” Forest whispers harshly, scrubbing his face with his hands, jerking them away. I watch in horrified fascination when he cups his palms over his nose and mouth, inhaling my scent deeply.
“You’re such a freak,” I say with the shake of my head, then bolt for my tote bag and sandals. Tugging the hem of my dress down, my inner thighs are sore as they rub together with each step. What an epic start to my wild oats phase, fucking and squirting in my boss’ face, on his kitchen floor.
“Wait!” He grips my wrist gently before I can open the front door. There’s an obscenely large bulge behind his zipper that draws my attention briefly, since he immediately presses his palm down over it. “Please don’t tell him that I—that you—we—”
I cup my hand over his mouth to shut him up. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone…” I drag my right index finger across my throat.
“I won’t,” I think he says from behind my hand.
Dad pounds his fist against the door again, and I whip it open, ducking to the side to avoid him knocking my forehead. “Everything okay here?” Dad asks, his keen eyes locked on Forest over my shoulder, who is, I hope, successfully hiding his erection.
“Yeah.” I roll up onto my tiptoes, making myself as tall as possible, hoping as well that Dad won’t notice Forest’s damp shirt. “Just took a while to get all the kids to bed,” I lie, forcing Dad to step back when I race out the door.
I ought to thank him for showing up when he did. I don’t know how far Forest and I would have taken things if he hadn’t. Thankfully, it’s dark enough outside that Dad shouldn’t be able to see the bruises likely already forming on my knees from kneeling on the hard tile for so long.
Pushing Dad ahead of me down the walkway, I tell him, “Those kids wiped me out. I’m ready for bed.”
Truer words have never been spoken. My limbs are loose and my head is foggy after those incredible orgasms. It’s a shame I’ll never get to experience them with Forest again, since he’s the last person in the world I should ever get involved with.
Crossing the street the next morning, I'm a hair's breadth away from feigning illness to bow out of the mani/pedi appointment, all so I don’t have to see Forest. But I just can’t bring myself to upset Josephine, who already has the front door open before I’ve made it up their walkway.
Forest firmly catches Sebastian around the waist, hauling him up into his arms before the toddler can make a run for it, as Josephine skips toward me in a pretty white sundress.
“Autumn!” she shouts, and we almost topple over when she throws her arms around my waist. “I’m so excited! We’re matching!” So we are, since her dress is similar to mine, though hers falls past her knees. “And I did my hair like yours!” She lets go of me and spins around.
“It’s very pretty, Josie,” I say with a smile, slipping my fingers through her soft hair, the crimps from last night’s braid washed away and dried so it’s pin-straight.
She smiles ear to ear at the nickname and says, “Let’s go!” She tugs my hand, trying to drag me to the side toward Shayla and Lainey’s house.
“Hold your horses, sweetheart,” Forest says, stepping out onto the stoop.
“Where’s Benny?” I ask, looking past Forest, inching toward the door with Josephine still tugging my hand.
“Taking a nap,” Forest says, which is disappointing.
I hate how my belly flutters at the intensity of Forest’s watchful gaze as he traces my form with hungry eyes. “Stop it,” I hiss.
“You stop it,” he says quietly with a waggle of his brows, leaning forward.
“Stop what?” I snap, setting my free hand on my hip.
Even lower, he says with a smirk, “Thinking about last night.”
I scoff. “I am not. You are.”
“Dang straight, I am. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Ugh. Shut up.”
“Lainey!” Josephine shouts when she spots my niece down the street, waving her hand like mad. “Come onnnnnnn,” she begs me.
I let her drag me away, even as I walk backward so I can keep my eyes on Forest. “You’re paying for this outing, by the way.”
He slips his phone from his back pocket. “How much?”
“Three hundred,” I say, raising my voice as we get farther away.
“For two mani/pedis?”
“Yup,” I lie. “Inflation is a bi—” I catch myself before I curse.
Forest puts his phone away and tilts his head, smirking again when he says, “Bring me a receipt, and I’ll pay.”
I throw my middle finger up and finally turn away so I don’t trip, hearing him laugh at my back.
At the nail salon, Josephine takes the massage chair next to me while the other four sit opposite. Josephine is smiling so hard that her cheeks are likely to ache as she soaks her feet in the warm water.
“This is so fun,” she says, her eyes shining brightly.
And it is. I’ve had plenty of manicures and pedicures, since Dad likes to spoil “his girls”, as he calls Mom, my sisters, and me. It’s even more fun seeing Josephine experience it all for the first time.
“What color are you going to get?” Lainey asks Josephine. “I’m getting pink. It’s Mom’s favorite color.”
Josephine asks me, “What’s your favorite color?”
“Yellow,” I say, flipping through the ring of plastic nails that have been painted with all the colors the salon offers. I point to the bright, sunshiny yellow polish I’ve picked. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Yellow,” she answers quickly.
“A girl after my own heart,” I say, reaching across to caress her cheek.
Josephine shows the tech the same color I picked, and she vibrates in her seat when a second tech rolls a short stool to her side to start prepping her fingernails.
I relax back in my chair, enjoying how it kneads my sore lower back.
I might not have been seriously injured in the car crash, but I’ve been left with some lingering side effects that require, at a minimum, monthly massages.
That reminds me, I need to book my next appointment.
I’m willing to bet I can get Forest to pay for it when I babysit for him during the next game night.
I wasn’t lying when I told him I don’t mind watching the kids, though I absolutely do mind the ooey-gooey looks Forest still gives me whenever he sees me with them. I need to nip that in the bud.
My nail tech, who has started on my toes, looks around. Making conversation, she asks from behind her face mask, “Are you all sisters?”
“Shayla and I are,” I tell her, nodding to my older sister, who has been curiously watching Josephine and me. I lift my brow, silently asking her what’s up. She just shakes her head.
“We’re sisters,” Lainey and Ivy say at the same time, grinning at each other, seated between their mothers.
They share the same deadbeat biological father, but James and Martin adopted them, respectively, when they married their mothers.
If they didn’t go to separate schools, they’d be inseparable, and poor Grayson would be even more put out if he didn’t get any one-on-one time to play with his adopted sister.
“Jinx,” I say to the girls with a laugh. “You owe me a Coke.”
“What about you?” the tech asks next, the skin at the corners of her eyes crinkling when she gazes up at Josephine, then at me, trying to make the connection since we share some similar features. “Mother and daughter?”
“Oh, uh, no. I’m not old enough to be her mom, can’t you tell?” I joke, my smile faltering when I look to the side, at Josephine.
Josephine deflates, ducking her head. My stomach sinks, and Shayla and Eden’s brows draw together with concern. Josephine will never get the chance to experience this with her mother, as Lainey and Ivy often get to do, and my heart breaks for Forest’s little girl.
Lainey and Ivy say simultaneously, “She’s our best friend!” Then, “Jinx, double jink!” It’s what I would usually say when that happens, but I’m too busy biting my cheek, wondering if I’ve done more harm than good by correcting the tech.
I try to make up for it when we’re done at the salon by asking the group, “Want to hit up the mall?” To Josephine, I say, “We could grab lunch from the food court and spend all your daddy’s money on some new clothes and jewelry. How does that sound?”
Josephine brightens and slips her hand in mine. “Yes! That would be awesome!” She doesn’t let go of my hand, so I end up having to share the third row of Shayla’s pink Suburban with her during the drive. I don’t mind it one bit.