Chapter 22 Mickey
Mickey
There’s nothing sexy about murder. At least for me.
Viv’s obsessed with shows about serial killers, and she’s got me hooked, too.
But right now, we’re all caught up on our favorite one, and new episodes won’t drop until next week.
I figured we’d just watch sports highlights while we study, and that would have been just fine with me, but Viv had other ideas.
So now we’re watching werewolves have sex.
And, honestly? It’s hot.
“We know her,” Viv insists, pointing at the woman—werewoman—on the screen. “Wasn’t she in that movie you made me watch? The one about the boxer?”
“It’s hard to say. She didn’t have hair on her face in that one,” I answer.
“I don’t think it’s hair. I think it’s fur,” she tells me, frowning. “Besides, she’s furless right now. Or is it hairless?”
“Now you’re thinking about it. You know I’m right.”
“I know no such thing, Bran Mikalski,” she says, swatting playfully at my bare chest. And that makes my dick twitch, because any time Viv’s body makes contact with mine, I react.
And right now, we’ve got a whole lot of contact going on.
It’s my fault for spilling a smoothie all over the couch earlier.
We cleaned up the mess, but the cushions were soggy, so they’re outside drying.
So, we decided to watch TV in bed. No big deal.
But it’s a sexy show. And Viv likes to wear little tiny shorts and sports bras like they’re real clothing.
I’m not complaining; just making an observation.
And she’s sitting in between my legs with her back to my chest.
It’s cute as hell and hot as fuck and it just might kill me.
“I can’t believe she’s about to mate with him,” Viv says, shaking her head. “He just killed her husband.”
“Eh, Constantine had it coming. That guy was a dick. I’ve always liked Lysander better.”
“Oh, I’m definitely Team Lysander, no question, but the body isn’t even cold yet. It’s barely been a day. I think there’s a waiting period of at least twenty-four hours, you know?”
“No, I don’t know,” I tease. “I’ve never murdered my half-brother and then fucked his wife, so I don’t really know the protocol. And they’re werewolf crimebosses. I’m not sure their moral code is the same as yours.”
“You’re right. And I shouldn’t judge. I’m too much of a hedonist for that. Besides, Lysander’s hot. I wouldn’t pass up the chance to fuck him.”
“Guess I’ll get myself a Lysander costume for next Halloween,” I joke.
Viv laughs, even though we’ll be nowhere near each other by next October.
Hell, I might not even be at Bainbridge.
Blue’s convinced my chances for free agency are as good as his if we finish strong this year and have another killer season next year.
I’m not as convinced as he is, but I’m not thinking about hockey or the future tonight.
Nope. Tonight is for werewolves.
We watch the action on screen as Lysander takes Andromeda’s hand and leads her from his sitting room into his bedroom. He brings her to stand next to his bed, and when his eyes rake over her body, I can’t deny how hot it is.
Viv’s locked in as the scene unfolds. They’re both in their human form, and he’s slowly untying her corset.
She’s breathing heavily because she knows what’s coming next.
We all know what’s coming next. Lys has wanted Andromeda for years, and now she belongs to him.
He’s going to fucking devour her, and we get to watch.
He’s taking her clothes off piece by agonizing piece, revealing the soft skin of her shoulder, her arm, her breast, her waist. Yeah, what’s playing out on screen is sexy, but all I can think of is the curve of Viv’s shoulder, the way her breasts fill my hands, and the way I hold onto her waist as she rides me.
I hear Viv’s intake of breath and I can’t tell if she’s reacting to the way Lysander wraps his hand around Andromeda’s throat as he kisses her or the fact that my cock is getting harder by the second.
I have a feeling it’s both when she squirms against me while reaching for my hand and dragging it up her body, over her breasts and stops right at the base of her throat.
I’m no fool, and I love the way she’s getting into this, so I watch the screen for a second before mimicking his moves.
I’m instantly rewarded as Viv rocks her body back over mine.
Following Lysander’s lead, I trail my hands down to cup her breasts.
She moans as I pop the front clasp, freeing her tits, and I feel like I won the damn lottery, so instead of tracking and repeating the werewolf’s moves, I just do what comes naturally.
I work my hands over Viv’s body in all the ways I know she loves.
Hell, they’re all the ways I love, too. Nothing feels better than bringing her pleasure. Nothing.
“You feel good?” I ask her, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples in circular motions.
Instead of answering me directly, she wiggles her ass against my cock, and that’s all the responses I need.
For a few minutes, we watch as Lys strips Andromeda down and worships her body.
I listen to every noise Viv makes, every whimper, every gasp.
I pay attention to the way her body writhes on top of mine as the couple in front of us makes love.
She drags my hand down so it’s covering her mound, and that’s all the hint I need. I slip my hand beneath the waistband of her tight, stretchy little shorts so I can cup her mound.
“Oh, fuck,” she curses, grinding against me. She rounds her shoulders, like she’s going to turn around, but I put my hand out to stop her. It’s not that I don’t want her to faceplant on my dick, because, believe me, I do, but I’m not done teasing her.
“Not yet,” I tell her as I point toward the TV.
“Watch. We can do whatever they do,” I say, as the idea forms in my mind.
“If Andromeda gets Lysander’s fingers, then you get mine.
If she gets to suck his cock, then I want your mouth on mine.
If he makes her wait for it, if he edges the fuck out of her, then I’m gonna tease you, too.
And when he finally fills her pussy, I’m going to claim yours. How does that sound?”
“That’s fucking hot,” Viv responds.
I slip my hand out of her shorts because those are the rules of this new game I just invented, and she pouts adorably.
“Eyes on the screen, Viv,” I say. I’m not the kinda guy who needs to be in charge in the bedroom. I’m happy as hell when she bosses me around. But who doesn’t love a little role reversal?
Viv’s a good fucking girl because her eyes are glued to the characters in front of us. Truthfully, mine are, too. We watch as he lays her down on the bed and then joins her, pulling her close so her back is to his front. Holy fuckballs. Maybe they're the ones copying us.
It doesn’t matter, though. The only thing that matters to me right now is driving Viv crazy with need. After I peel her shorts off her body, I remove my own. Then I copy every one of Lys’s moves, biting nipping as I go. When he splays his hand across her mid-section, I do the same.
“You like that?” I ask, even though the answer is clear by the way Viv’s biting her lip. “You like that he’s got his hands on her the way I've got mine on you?”
She nods, her attention on Lys as he glides his hand down, down, down.
“Keep your eyes on the TV,” I direct her, anticipating exactly what she’s going to say before she opens her mouth. “Watch. You know I’ll give you what you need, Viv. I always fucking do.”
Her gaze is trained on the show once more while my fingers tease her pussy. “You’re so damn wet,” I say. “Does this turn you on?”
“You know it does,” she tells me, pressing her body into mine. My dick feels like a steel fucking pike and it’s poking her perfect ass as Lysander takes his sweet damn time. But when he pulls her leg back over his hip and enters her in one smooth motion, I thank my lucky fucking stars.
Viv lets out a string of curses as I lift her hip up over mine. “Is this what you want? You need to get fucked just as bad as she does?”
“Yes, oh fuck, yes,” Viv says as her body swallows my cock.
I’m driving into her, my cock threatening to explode as I press the pad of my index finger against her clit.
I’m no longer watching the scene play out. All my focus is on Viv. I love the way she comes apart for me, the way she trusts me with her pleasure, the way her body knows mine so well.
She’s rocking back onto my dick when her first orgasm hits. It’s so powerful that it nearly sends me reeling. Her walls are squeezing me so damn tight that I’m on the verge of coming, too.
“Do it,” Viv pants. “I want to feel you. Oh, god.”
When her second orgasm takes hold, it’s impossible to resist. I go over the edge with her, my body shaking with the force of it.
We’re a tangled mess of satisfied limbs when the credits start to roll on the screen. I kiss Viv’s shoulder and tug the blankets up around us.
Hours later, I wake up with Viv’s body draped across mine.
The sky is still dark, and she’s the sexiest blanket in the whole damn world.
I want to stroke her back, kiss her temple.
I want to bring her body to life like I did just a few hours ago, but I don’t dare disturb her.
Because here, in the middle of the night, in the darkness of my room, I can pretend she’s mine.
I can let myself believe—even for a few moments—that she loves me the way I love her.