Bonus Epilogue
Dylan
“Damn, that’s sexy. Who knew a man doing my laundry would be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?”
Anticipation builds low at the sound of her voice, her scent filling the small laundry room. My cock instantly hardens. God, I’ve missed her. And she’s only been gone for a few hours.
I reach into the washer, pulling out one of Dee’s bras. Without turning around to look at her, I fit the straps over a hanger and hang it from the bar she has installed above the washing machine for her delicate clothes to air-dry.
“You’re washing my bras too?” Her voice rings with shock.
“What?” I play innocent, peering over my shoulder to find her biting her lower lip and staring at my ass. “I can take your bra off your body, but not out of the washing machine?”
“A good man can do both,” she says, voice laden with heat.
“And a great man?”
“A great man does it with an ass like that in slutty little shorts,” she says, still fixated on my ass in my gym shorts. I was planning on working out later, but now I’m hoping she’ll work me out in bed and save me the trouble.
“So, you’re saying I’m an overachiever.”
“I’m saying keep going.”
I chuckle before pulling an armful of clothing out of the washer and bending low to stuff it into the dryer.
“Oh yeah, babe. Just like that,” Dee says, the words melting somewhere between a plea and a moan.
I laugh harder until I look back at her, watching as she unzips her jean shorts, sliding her hands into the space between the denim and her perfect fucking hips.
She slides them off and I watch, transfixed as they fall to the floor.
She kicks them aside, her full lips pursing in amusement at whatever dumb-as-fuck expression found its way to my face.
“I said…keep going,” she prompts. A seductress in cotton briefs, rendering me stupid.
My soul drops back into my body, temporarily given flight at the tempting sight of Deanna Perry in a black thong, kicking away her shorts, crossing her arms, and holding the hem of her shirt, then pausing…waiting for me to move.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, yes. Sure. I mean, fuck, okay.”
With more speed than I’ve ever used while doing fucking laundry, I grab another armful and stuff it into the dryer, having to shove everything back in a few times, losing my grip as I hurry.
Dee giggles behind me and I spin around eagerly to watch as she drags the top off her body, her perfect breasts hidden behind black lace.
“You went to lunch with the girls, taking my next meal with you, all dressed up like that underneath those clothes?” I ask, my voice husky, dropping low.
I take one step toward her, but she holds up a hand. “Uh-uh. Are you finished?”
“You’re about to be.” I take another step, until my chest hits her palm.
“I want more,” she says, licking her lips. I let out a puff of breath, a smile tugging at my lips before I reach back into the washer, grab the last of the load, shove it into the dryer, set the timer, and start the machine.
She starts clapping, slowly, only to be cut off by a fit of her own laughter as I lift her up and place her on the dryer.
She laughs against my lips. “So much enthusiasm for laundry.”
“For you,” I murmur, dipping my tongue into her mouth to dance with hers. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”
I drop my attention to her neck, working my way toward her cleavage, softly biting at the curve of her breast barely contained by lace.
She drags her legs up, hooking her feet around my waist. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she leans back, giving me better access to her tits.
I watch, fascinated as her chest heaves, her breaths unsteady, clearly as affected by this moment as I am. I slip my palms from her hips to the small of her back, sliding them up her warm skin until I reach the clasp of her bra, unhooking it easily.
She leans back and levels me with a look that tells me she has plans for me. My insides twist in anticipation. Fuck, I love that look.
She shrugs her shoulders, letting the straps slip down her arms before pinching the front, pulling her bra off, and letting it dangle over the open washing machine. She lets it drop.
“Efficient,” I growl into her ear.
“Impatient,” she whispers back. “Fuck me. Don’t make me wait.”
I take her nipple into my mouth, sucking and biting. She moans, and the longer it goes on, the louder she gets. “Quiet, Deanna. Wouldn’t want our neighbors to hear you; these walls are thin,” I tease.
“I don’t give a fuck who hears me, as long as you fuck me. Be a good boy for me and take your cock out.”
Shit. My dick is going to fall off if I don’t get inside her. Now.
I slide two fingers into her wet pussy without any struggle. “This cunt is soaked for me,” I murmur in her ear, her breath catches as I slowly thrust in and out of her. I use my other hand to pull my dick out, giving it a few tugs to relieve the building pressure.
Because she asked me to and I’m her good fucking boy.
Dee reaches for my wrist, stopping my movements so she can take over, gripping the base of my dick without mercy. I groan at the contact, and she doesn’t go slow, she doesn’t ease into it; she grips me tightly, tugging from base to tip.
“Fuck me all the way to heaven,” I rasp.
“I’m already there,” she says, leaning back, her hand still wrapped around my dick. She rubs her perfect pink slit with my dick, and I’m fucking weeping for her.
I grab her ass and slide her forward to the very edge of the machine, then thrust into her. We moan together before we hear Stevie meow right fucking behind me.
“Stevie, not now,” I hiss, kicking my foot backward, trying to close the door without my hands, which are on Dee’s ass, supporting her so she doesn’t fall over the edge of the machine onto the floor.
Stevie hisses at me. Sitting just out of reach in the hallway, staring at my ass.
“She’s judging my cheeks. Why is she staring at my cheeks?” I ask, panic rising.
“Oh my god,” Dee moans as I thrust into her again, trying to keep the fucking magic alive. Then she peers over her shoulder at Stevie and laughs. “She really is staring at your ass. She’s judging your tan lines or something. Damn, tough crowd.”
“Can you do that thing you do when you communicate with her in your secret fucking language and get her to do whatever you want.” My body stills, unable to work my mojo under these conditions.
“Fine,” Dee says with a breathy sigh. “Stevie, we’ll be out in a minute.” Without missing a beat, the hellcat prances away, her tail swishing behind her as she exits, stage right.
“A minute?” I growl, thrusting back into Dee, setting a slow pace. “I want more than a minute with you.”
She bites my ear, tugging the lobe between her teeth before she rasps, “Prove it.”
So I do. On the laundry machine. Next, the couch. Finally, our bed.
When we’re both so worn out, we can’t move, I reach over, slapping her ass, letting my hand rest there. “What will it be tonight? Survivor or Antiques Roadshow?”
She smiles up at me, dimples on full display, her giggle rippling through me. She settles her chin on my chest. “Neither. I think we should watch something new.”