7. Chance #3
Careful not to touch the stitches in her side that definitely looked ready to be removed, I slid my hands up her torso, my thumbs skimming her navel, my fingers spread wide.
I wanted to touch all of her beautiful skin at once, smell it, taste it.
She shivered as I reached her breasts, tracing the rosy areolas before pinching her nipples lightly.
“Yes,” she breathed, her hips shifting against the fly of my jeans as she tipped her head toward the ceiling.
She was covered in goose bumps as I played, running my fingertips over her nipples lightly, pinching them, circling over and over and over, until she was making little noises of frustration and her thighs tightened, her hips rolling.
I was reasonably concerned that the movement was going to make me embarrass myself, but I didn’t care.
She was incandescent. A blush spread over her chest and down between her breasts as she strained against me.
Arching upward, I braced her as my mouth reached her skin. I ran my tongue between her breasts and then found her nipple, brushing my lips over it lightly before sucking it into my mouth.
“Yes,” she whispered, her hands finding my head again. She watched me, her eyes wide and unfocused, as she directed my mouth to the other nipple. “More. Harder.”
My cock jerked as I followed directions, sucking harder, biting down until she hissed, and then soothing it with my tongue.
“Chance,” the intercom on my bedroom wall croaked. “Arthur is here. Meet us downstairs.”
“Goddamn it,” Reese whined as I pulled away slowly, kissing one breast and then the other. They were red as berries and hard as pebbles. I wanted to weep as I pulled away.
“If your nipples taste that good, I cannot wait to taste your cunt,” I said dazedly, still staring.
Rena let out a choked laugh. “Oh, okay, we’re talking dirty now?”
I looked up at her face sheepishly. “I don’t think I could’ve formed coherent words before.”
“Do you really have to go down there?” she asked, rolling her hips just enough to make my cock jump beneath her.
“Afraid so,” I groaned, cupping her breasts in my hands. Her nipples peaked out from the space between my thumb and first finger, and I wanted to take a mental snapshot so I’d never forget the sight.
Leaning forward, she kissed me deep and wet before pulling away. “Next time, you’re taking your shirt off.”
“I think next time you lose the pants,” I countered as she crawled off my lap.
She turned and bent over to grab her T-shirt off the floor, and I let out a hiss, running the heel of my hand over my erection for a tiny bit of relief.
Her ass was round and wide and fucking spectacular. I was dying to see it bare.
As soon as she’d pulled the shirt on, she turned to me with a sound of dismay. “This isn’t going to work. Good thing I packed some clothes.” Her nipples were pressed prominently against the shirt, impossible to miss.
“Fuck that,” I argued as she unzipped the suitcase. “Wear what you have on.”
“I’d rather my nipples weren’t pointing at your family the entire time,” she said dryly, pulling out a bra. “This should hide them.”
“Up to you,” I said casually as I put my feet on the floor. “But I bet that T-shirt brushing against them feels a whole lot better than a bra.”
Rena looked up at me as she pulled her shirt off, arching her back a little.
“You’re fucking evil for that,” I said, pointing at her.
“What?” she asked with mock innocence.
She squealed as I rushed her, wrapping my arms around her back to hold her still as I nipped at her pretty, tender nipples. With a groan, I pulled one into my mouth again with a hard suck before letting her go.
“Bra,” she said shakily, wrapping it around her ribs. “I need a bra.”
While she finished getting dressed, I went into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face, thinking of the least sexy things I could bring to mind. When I came back out, she’d also changed out of the leggings and into a snug pair of jeans.
“They were wet,” she said huskily, shrugging her shoulders.
I glanced at the door and then back at her, trying to justify not going downstairs.
Shaking my head, I cursed and reached for her hand so I could tug her with me. We had to go down to see what Arthur needed. My father had called him that morning, but I hadn’t heard anything about him flying out.
The house smelled like someone had been cooking, probably my mother. When we reached the kitchen, she was busy dishing something up. All the women were gathered around the counter, but my brothers were missing.
“I made risotto,” Mom announced when she saw us. “I needed something to do.”
“It smells excellent,” Rena replied.
“Where are they?” I asked, lifting Rena’s hand to kiss the back of it before letting it go.
“They’re outside,” my mom answered. “Come get a plate, Rena. We’ve also got wine.”
“Wine sounds perfect.” Rena strode toward the group while I let myself out the back door.
Outside, my brothers, uncles, and father were standing with Arthur, who looked as if his world had just ended.