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Chapter Twenty-Four

Ahh fuck!

What’s she doing?

And what’s she wearing?

And why the fuck is she upside down on the couch looking at me while sucking on a popsicle?

Her lips are tinted a wine color from the ice pop and her eyes are locked on mine. And did I mention she’s sucking on the damn thing, sucking it all the way down and—shit! Now she’s licking it.

I think she said something and Logan behind me laughed and said something in reply before following Skye to the kitchen. I don’t have a clue what either of them said. Because I have no fucking blood left in my brain and I probably need that shit to make my ears work.

My dick, however, is working just fine right now. And so are my feet because somehow, I end up right by her. She turns her head to look at me better, then rights herself, wiggling her ass into the couch to get comfortable. Half of her ass is peeking out of the cutoffs she’s wearing. That damn ice pop is still in her mouth and she’s moving it up and down, up and down, sucking and licking.

“What’re you doing?” I hear myself ask. It’s more of a growl.

“What does it look like?” she asks me back. The tip of the ice pop rests on her plump bottom lip and her tongue comes out to lick it. She looks at me all innocent, but my dick and I know River just amped up the game.

“You reading?” I ask and I’m dumbstruck by my own words because I really have nothing right now. I’m used to being in charge. To being in control. I attack and she retreats. That’s how we play this game and River just changed it up on me.

“Not really, just looking for the good parts.” Her lips form an O around the ice pop and she sucks it a little harder.

“Why do girls like to read smut? Doesn’t it leave you high and dry?”

“Who says I’m dry?”

Fuck. Me.

Skye’s voice floats to us across the kitchen island that separates the two spaces in the open concept living room. “Try chapter three and oh, chapter seven gets a lot better.” Then Skye squeals. When I glance over, Logan has his arms around her and his face in her neck.

River moves and I watch as two melting drops slide down the ice pop and fall to her chest, running down into her cleavage. My eyes follow.

“Oops,” she says as she dips two fingers between her tits, catches the drops, and brings them to her mouth, sucking on them. Book abandoned on the couch, she gets up and stands inches away from me. Her cinnamon and sugar scent envelopes me. She gives the ice pop one more suck and lick.

“Better go clean up. I’m all wet and sticky now.” Then she takes a bite of the ice pop tip, hands it to me, and walks away toward the hall. I stand there with her melting ice pop, wondering what the fuck just happened.