Page 58

Told you weddings were a bad idea.
I don’t like to be woken up. I once kicked my brother in the throat for waking me up. It’s like I have ninja skills first thing in the morning. Or all day long. I’m pretty fucking talented if you ask me.
Peeking one eye open, I assess the damage. I didn’t kick her, but I did knock over what looks to be a lamp.
Take a look at Amberly. Christ, she looks fuckin’ pissed, doesn’t she?
“What?”
With her hands on her hips, she points at me. “I can’t believe I invited you to a wedding!”
If I remember correctly, I told her it was a bad idea, didn’t I? “Why?” I don’t recall anything that happened last night once I got started on the vodka.
“I’m not surprised you don’t remember. It seems you’ve forgotten a lot of things lately.” I have no idea what she’s talking about because I don’t remember forgetting anything. Picking up a pillow at her feet, she tosses it at my head. “Like the fact that you took a pitcher of Kool-Aid and vodka to the hot tub with you last night. Grandma Lillian found you passed out in the middle of a blood red tub. She thought you died.”
Admit it, you’re laughing, aren’t you? Amberly’s certainly not. She secretly, or not so secretly wants to kill me.
Wearing a bathrobe and her hair knotted up in a towel, she flops down next to me and I sit up beside her, bumping my shoulder against hers. It’s then I realize River’s not in the room. “Where’s the kid?”
“She’s with my mom and sister getting her toes painted for the wedding.”
I side-eye her. “Why?”
“Not sure.”
“So we’re alone?”
“Yes.” She gives me that look, the one that says don’t even think about it. But I do. Always.
Without much resistance, she lets me lay her back against the mattress, my hands running over her smooth bare legs. Untangling the knot in her robe, I push the fabric aside leaving her bare for me.
My dark stare finds hers, my mouth on her nipples. She likes it. No, she fucking loves it. Her lashes flutter closed, her hands in my hair as I hover over her.
Pulling myself closer, I stroke her cheek with my thumb. I want to place my hand on her chest, feel her pulse beneath my fingertips. I want to lay next to her and listen to her heartbeat in hopes it’ll calm my mind. I want that sound to end the noise in my head and the anguish pulsing inside me to dissolve.
I draw back, spreading her legs with my knees and then hook my hands around the backs of her knees to bring her hips in line with mine. Pressing forward, I give her my weight and grind my hard cock into her pussy. I don’t enter her, because I still have my boxers on and she won’t let me anyway. If there’s one thing Amberly’s hanging on to, it’s her virginity and I have no idea why.
Arching off the mattress, she moans into my ear, her hips squirming. “River will be back soon,” she breathes out, but doesn’t stop herself from shamelessly rubbing her pussy up and down my cock. It never does. I’ve brought her to every single one of her orgasms and I can say that with absolute certainty.
My hands shake when I bring them to cover her cheeks, my unstable eyes lost in hers. “Do you want me to get you off?” My breathing hitches, a sudden jolt of pleasure shooting through my body at the tiny whimpers leaving her lips. I’d give anything if she’d just let me inside her tight wet virgin pussy. I crave it like nothing before.
She nods, and I want to fucking kick myself for offering because I know I’m getting nothing in return. Or at least not what I’m really wanting from her.
“How long before she comes back?” I ask, my mouth at her ear. With my hands curled under her shoulders, I push up with my hips, driving her into the mattress.
Her hands fist in the sheets, legs locking around my waist, heels digging into my ass. “Ten minutes, maybe.”
Well, I could blow my load now, but I’d like to draw this out a little, so I keep moving. I haven’t come from drying humping since I was what, thirteen? I don’t know, but I distinctly remember the chick and the fact that I came inside my riding pants and had to finish a motocross race with cum sliding down my leg. Good times. Bad when you’re on a podium finish and when they ask you what drove you to push so hard at the end through those gnarly whoops and your answer under your breath is, “’Cause my spunk’s sticking to my thigh, that’s why.”
Of course, I didn’t say that.
Only now, I’m twenty-three and do you think I care about coming in my boxers?
No. Well, maybe a little, but the way she’s working her hips, desperately massaging my cock with the heat of her pussy, aching with need, I don’t really give a shit what happens as long as it ends with me getting off. She squirms, panting and gasping. She’s so wet, it’d be easy to slightly change the angle and thrust inside her. I don’t.
We rush, or maybe I do, because goddamn this is a nice way to be woken up. Way better than a pillow to the face. With my hands under her ass, I drag my cock over her clit, pushing, dragging, rubbing, anything to create enough friction and just about the time I feel like I’m burning the skin off my shaft, Amberly comes.
It’s the most beautiful fucking sight in the world. I would have given anything to have been inside her, feeling the seizing, the jerking breath and wild buck of her hips on my cock. I pull back to watch, her mouth gently parted, her eyes close, her body tense and shaking underneath mine. I could watch that sight forever.