12. “Should I StayShould I Go?” #2
“That’s it,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to speak, his voice rough with satisfaction, his breath warm on her over-sensitized flesh. “Show me how much you want my mouth on your pussy, how much you love when I make you come.”
His thumb rolled her clit while his fingers continued their rhythm inside her, and the combination shattered what little control she had left.
Her orgasm rolled through her, not in a sharp spike, but something deeper that started at her core and radiated outward, encompassing everything, stealing her breath, stealing her ability to pretend she wasn’t completely undone by him.
“Soren!” she cried out his name, and he eased up. He rode out every aftershock until she trembled wildly, until her oversensitivity made his touch unbearable.
Gasping, she shoved at his shoulder. “I can’t take any more.”
“What’s the magic words?”
“Fire!”
“No.”
“Uncle!”
“Nope.”
“Soren, please—”
“Close. Soren, you’re in…?”
“Charge! Fine. You win. You’re in charge. But no more.”
He laughed, the sound muffled against her thigh before he pulled away, trailing kisses up her body. “You’re beautiful when you come apart like that.”
“I fucking hate you.” She was twitching like a deranged lunatic.
He positioned himself over her, his breathing ragged, his eyes fever-bright and full of that infuriating male satisfaction. “Now, kiss me and taste yourself.”
She didn’t hesitate. Taking his mouth in a hard kiss, she reached for his engorged cock, desperate to get him inside of her. They fumbled, as he kicked off his shoes.
“No, I want you on top. Ride me.”
She crawled onto his lap, aligning their bodies, then her phone chimed. “Shit. Someone’s here.”
“What?”
She stretched for her phone. “That’s my camera.”
“Ignore it.”
“Let me just see who it is.”
He sat back, pulsing erection straining between them.
“It’s probably just a deliver—fuck!” She sprang off the couch and tied her robe.
“What’s wrong? Who is it?”
“It’s Wren. She has a key. Hide!”
He stood. “Why would I hide? She knows about us.”
Oh, right. “Well, help me hide the shower stuff! And put away your dick!”
“I was trying to. Can’t you tell her to come back later?”
“Have you met Wren?” She threw an afghan over the wrapping paper supplies and tried to make a pillow fort around the jars for the centerpieces. “There’s too much!”
The doorbell rang, and Wren let herself in. “Joce?”
“I’m naked!”
“Huh?”
Soren shot her a WTF look.
She pointed at his dick, which was still outside of his pants and hissed, “Put that away.”
“Jocelyn?” Wren called.
“I’m naked,” she said quickly. “Don’t look in the living room!”
“Why are you naked?”
“I’m not alone.”
“Oh,” she said quickly, then, “Ohhh…”
“Just…don’t look. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Okay, I’m walking by now.” Wren slowly waddled past the doorway, her hands framed around her eyes like horse blinders. “I’m in the kitchen.”
Jocelyn let out a breath. “I’ll be right there.”
“Is Soren with you?”
“Hi Wren,” he called, voice devoid of any kind of welcome.
Jocelyn smacked him in the chest and hissed, “Be nice.”
“Hi Soren.”
“You be nice. Do you have any idea how blue my balls are going to be?”
“I’ll get you a bag of frozen peas. This was your fault anyway.”
“My fault?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “And for the last time, do something about that,” she snapped, pointing at his dick.
“I was trying to,” he said through gritted teeth.
She ignored him and went to the kitchen. “Sorry about that.” She cinched the tie at her waist.
“That’s ok—oh. Wow. You look…like you belong on one of your romance covers.”
Jocelyn uncapped a bottle of water and guzzled half of it. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“Sorry. From now on I’ll call first.”
“Meh, don’t worry about it. Apparently, my phone etiquette sucks too.”
Wren glanced into the empty hall and whispered, “So, I guess you guys are good.”
Jocelyn took her time swallowing more water. “We’re fine.”
Wren’s brows lifted. “If this is fine, what does good look like?”
“Hi Wren.” Soren’s deep voice cut through the kitchen as he entered, strategically keeping his lower body behind the island and out of Wren’s view.
Jocelyn pressed her lips tight to hide a laugh when she spotted the pink flush on his cheeks.
“Hi, Soren.” Wren couldn’t meet his eyes.
He pulled out a stool and sat down at the counter.
Jocelyn’s jaw nearly hit the floor when Cordelia hopped right into his lap. Unfortunately, due to his lingering boner, Soren only winced, unable to appreciate the progress being made.
“I can’t believe she just jumped onto your lap like that.”
He shrugged. “We had a long talk this weekend and came to an understanding.”
“Maybe I should go,” Wren said. “You guys were obviously in the middle of something.”
“You don’t have to go,” Soren objected. “I can leave.”
“No one has to leave!” Jocelyn blurted. “Everybody sit! And stop making this super fucking weird.”
Wren dropped into a chair.
Soren placed a calming hand on Jocelyn’s. “You okay?”
Wren tsked. “Aww.”
Jocelyn flung his touch away. “I’m fine.” When both of them frowned, she apologized. “Sorry. I don’t know how to act.” She looked specifically at Soren. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to you touching me in front of people.”
Wren smiled. “I think it’s cute.”
Needing a distraction, she glanced at the pink box Wren brought with her. “What is that?”
“Whoopie pies, from Esther’s.” She pulled the string and lifted the lid.
A whole box meant she intended to stay for a while.
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching your sugar intake?” Soren asked.
All the softness left Wren’s face as she glared at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be minding your business?”
“Dear God, man, don’t anger it.”
Soren held up his hands. “My bad. Forget I said anything.”
Wren reached into the box, pulled out a thick whoopie pie, and bit into the chocolate sandwich. “That’s right, it’s your bad.” The cream filling filled her mouth as she grumbled, “Like I need another Hawthorne helicoptering over me. I’m eating for two!”
“Okay,” Soren said slowly, setting Cordelia on the ground where she immediately barked. “I’m going to wait in the den while you two talk.”
“Wait.” Wren’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just…tired and pregnant, and I wanted to eat a whoopie pie in peace.”
“It’s cool. I get it. Eat your pie, Wren.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be catching up on emails. Don’t…cry.”
Jocelyn hid a laugh as he rushed out of the room. As soon as he was gone, she looked at Wren. “I like this new evil side of you.”
Wren laughed, all signs of tears gone as if they never existed. “A Hawthorne man can handle almost anything, but a woman’s tears will always be their kryptonite.” She slid the box to Jocelyn. “Whoopie pie?”
Jocelyn chuckled. “You’re evil. You were messing with him on purpose.”
She shrugged. “It helps keep the cockiness at a minimum.”
Jocelyn pulled a giant confection out of the box and tore it in half. When she bit into the chocolate cake, cream exploded in her mouth, and she had a proper response: she shut her eyes and moaned. “Orgasmic.”
“I’m convinced Esther’s a witch and she puts spells in her baked goods to keep us coming back.”
Jocelyn closed her eyes and nodded, too engrossed in the experience to form words.
“You guys are really cute,” Wren commented.
She opened her eyes and tried to scowl rather than acknowledge her squishy feelings, but the truth was, she was too happy to pretend she was angry.
“I think we’re in that goofy butterflies stage.
My stomach’s been swooping and pitching all day.
At first, I told myself it was just gas, but…
” She shrugged. “I got absolutely no work done today.”
Her brows lifted. “Was he here all day? That’s not like him to take off—”
“Oh, no. He went to work. I just mean…” She shook her head. “I couldn’t focus. Whatever this thing is between us, it’s stronger than my ADHD meds. I kept staring off into space and daydreaming about this weekend.”
“Aw, that’s really sweet.”
“Sweet? I have a deadline. Leander and Thora are never going to figure out their baggage if I don’t get my head out of the clouds. Every time I try to move the plot, they just keep having sex. Really. Hot. Sweaty. Sex.”
Her gaze unfocused as she dragged her hand down her throat, picturing more scenes from this weekend.
Wren cleared her throat. “Joce?”
“Shit. Sorry. See? This is what I’m talking about.”
Wren bit back a smile and silently giggled. “It looks to me like you’re in—”
“Don’t. Don’t you even think it.”
“Okay, but I think you already are.”
Visions of Soren’s body claiming hers evaporated like vapor on a breeze as a scorching blush burned her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “I’m not. I’m not even close.”
Wren snickered and cocked her head. “Is that a hickey?”
Jocelyn tugged the lapels of her kimono closed. “Mind your business.”
“You dirty little slut.”
Guilty, and not sorry, Jocelyn only rubbed her face and laughed. “It’s all so weird. I mean, we’ve been sleeping together for longer than I want to admit, but now that you and Greyson know, it’s…oddly uncomfortable, and at the same time… right.”
“We’ve always known, Joce.”
“Ack, reminding me only makes it weirder.”
“Why did it ever have to be a secret?”
“Because it’s Soren,” she whispered. “This…isn’t normal. It just felt safer not to tell anyone.”
“You’re the one who always says you have to get out of your comfort zone to make good things happen.”
“My advice is only for other people, not for me.”
“Well, I, for one, think you give great advice. Without you, I might have never found the courage to sleep with Greyson.” She sat back, placing a hand on her protruding belly. “And I think that’s worked out pretty well. Who knows where you and Soren will be in a year.”
A year? Jocelyn’s eyes flared. “Whoa. Settle down. Let’s not rush into anything.”
“He likes you, Jocelyn. A lot. And you like him.”
“He likes having sex with me.”
“No, he likes you. I can tell.”
There was that strange squishy feeling again.