Filthy Vows (Filthy Vows #1)(35)
Now, I didn’t have time for a fantasy about my sexy landscaper. I had bigger issues, which were currently occupying both ends of our living room couch, their feet kicked up on the ottoman, beers in hand, their eyes glued to the TV, masculinity reeking off them and infecting the room.
I’d popped the cap off my own beer and joined them, drawn forward by the familiar sound of the game. I’d avoided the couch and settled back in the big red leather recliner, tucking my feet underneath me and staring at the screen.
I’d lasted ten minutes before I’d realized that Aaron was studiously ignoring me. Every comment I made, every glance I shot over—he was polite and engaged in the game, but stiff as a board around me.
I hated it and left the room, making an excuse about needing a shower.
From the direction of the living room, dual shouts rang out. Easton yelled something at the top of his lungs. I shifted onto my side and wondered what had happened.
This was ridiculous, me in our bedroom, hiding out like a leper. I tilted my head toward the closet door and considered changing into something nice and going out. The realtors in our office were having a wine and cheese event at a downtown bar. I could join them, though the idea of hobnobbing with that many botox-enhanced foreheads sounded exhausting. Plus, I had no new contracts. No new listings. No achievements to casually drop while everyone else rattled theirs off under the guise of shop talk. My gaze drifted to the tall suitcase, parked by the closet door where it had sat for the last two days. We would both ignore it, avoiding the gold Samsonite until the dire moment when Easton needed his electric razor, or I wanted my red sling-backs.
The door handle jiggled and I turned as the heavy brass lever turned. The door eased open and Easton stuck his head in. “Hey. Halftime just started. Did you already get a shower?”
“Not yet.” I rolled toward him and sat up. “I didn’t want to do it with Luke in the backyard, given the broken blinds.” I nodded in the direction of the backyard, where the weed-eater roared to life. “It’s almost dark. Why’s he here so late?”
“No idea.” He looked at our bathroom blinds, which were stacked next to the dresser, needing to be taken to the trash can. They were on the same wait-until-the-other-person-does-it schedule that our suitcase was, and in tattered shreds thanks to an enthusiastic attempt by Wayland to catch a moth. “Want me to have him stop? Aaron and I can finish up whatever he hasn’t gotten to.”
“No.” I stood up and stretched. “I think I’ll change and go to the gym. What’s the score?”
“Tied.” He watched as I worked open the buttons on my shirt. “Aaron’s running over to Bobalo’s to pick up a pizza. So…” He maneuvered around the blinds and tugged at my shirt, pulling me closer to him.
I let out a strangled laugh at the suggestive grin on his face. “Now?”
“Come on.” His hand fumbled at the button of my long shorts. “It’ll take him a half hour, given that construction on Fourth. Plus, I ordered a deep dish, just to give us extra time.”
“Oooh… deep dish.” I stuck the tip of my tongue barely out at him. “That was assumptive. What if I wasn’t in the mood?”
“My wife?” He smirked. “She’s always in the mood.”
If I hadn’t been before, that phrase right there did it for me. I liked the idea of him being married, and the hypothetical scenario of me being his other woman. “Would she share you with me?” I gripped him through his jeans, enjoying the hiss of caution that he let out.
“Fuck no. She’d be furious if she knew what I was about to do to you.” He roughly kissed my neck as he yanked my shorts over my wide hips, his actions competing with mine as we both struggled to get the other’s clothes off. We kissed, his mouth possessive, and I shivered as my shirt fell away, my skin breaking out in goosebumps in the cold room.
“You know, my wife gives one hell of a blow job.” He palmed my breasts in each warm hand and squeezed. “Think you can do better?”
“Ha.” I pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. “I dole out blowjobs after orgasms. Get me to five, and I’ll suck your dick so hard you’ll leave your wife for me.”
“Yes ma’am.” He sat upright and grinned up at me, his hands caressing over my nipples as his dick twitched against my ass. I raised up on my knees and reached down, positioning him between my legs. His hands tightened on me in warning. “Wait, the door.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the door, which hadn’t fully closed behind him. “It’s fine.” I lowered myself onto him, sighing in contentment as his thick cock pushed into me. So hard, so quickly. It had been one of the rumors at Florida State, proved true and still accurate, seven years later.
“You like it open?” The question hissed through his lips right before he reclaimed my mouth, his hand wrapping through my hair and tugging on it. “You hoping he’ll come home early and see you riding my cock?”
I hesitated in the middle of my action, his cock halfway in, and met his gaze. It was intense and possessive, his grip on me fierce, his dick rigid. If he was mad, it was the hottest version of the emotion I’d ever seen. He jerked his hips underneath me, jabbing deeper. I came down fully. “Maybe.”
“Fuck maybe,” he swore, his hands running up my thighs and gripping my ass, pulling my cheeks apart as one of his fingers found the pucker of my ass. “Tell me. Tell me you want him to see this beautiful ass riding up and down my cock.”