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He shrugs, zipping his jacket higher and adjusting his gloves. “Didn’t know if your house guest changed your plans.”
“No.” Other than me fucking her in every position I can think of, no, she hasn’t changed my plans. “She’s eating with us, but it’s still on.”
“Can Lil come?”
I bust out laughing. “You’re still married, your wife refuses to leave, and you’re bringing another girl to dinner?”
He shrugs. “If I’m going down, might as well do it in a glory of flames.” He puts his hat back on. “Besides, Carly moved out this morning. Said all she wanted was half our savings.”
My eyes widen. “What? Really?”
“Legally she’s allowed to half of it.”
“Because you’re an idiot,” I remind him.
He stares me down, daring me to say something else.
“I never said I wasn’t either,” I’m quick to add before he punches me in the face.
Then I think about his situation. When Tara and I got married at eighteen, we didn’t have shit. Dad hadn’t given me the repair shop yet. I didn’t have the house. We were living in a single wide trailer on my dad’s property when Camdyn was born. It wasn’t until after Sev was born and Tara left that I started building the house, and dad handed the business over to me.
Morgan, that’s a different story. He’s the firstborn Grady boy. The ranch was his before he was a year old, and he risked it all marrying Carly. He’s fucking lucky all she wants is half their savings.
“What’d Johnny have to say?” Morgan asks, stepping toward the four-wheeler and then swinging a leg over it.
“Said he wanted to see the girls.”
Morgan rolls his eyes. “Fuck that.”
If you had any doubt we’re brothers, that line there pretty much sealed the deal.
As Morgan’s leaving, Kacy comes out of the office. She’s still filing and doing odd shit around here like I’ve hired her. I have. To suck my dick on a daily basis.
Oh, come on. I’m joking.
Kinda of.
She smiles at me, standing in front of me. I drop my eyes to her tits. “What are you doing back here? Trying to distract me?”
“Yes, and no. The girls said tonight’s some kind of spaghetti night. Do you want me to stay at a hotel?”
I glare at her. “We’ve been over this before. You’re not staying at a fucking hotel.”
Her eyes darken, but not with rage or annoyance for me. It’s lust. “I love it when you get bossy.”
I sneak a glance around the shop and then grab her ass when I see that no one is watching. “You haven’t seen bossy yet, honey.”
“Fuck. Stop using that accent. It makes me wet.”
“In that case,” I shove her inside the parts room and shut the door behind me, locking it. “Get on your knees.”
And then we’re at it again. This time she’s sucking my dick while I hold onto a parts shelf for support, because I fucking need it. She takes me into her mouth, further than I expected, and I hit the back of her throat. Gripping me at the base, she sucks harder, and I lose it. I’m struggling, trying not to come within a minute, but it’s not an effort I care to fight long.
She pauses, licking my tip and smiling up at me, reaching for one of my hands. “Fuck my mouth,” she breathes and then goes back to giving me the best blow job I’ve ever gotten in my life.
I do as she asks, guiding her head up and down. At some point I spin us so I’m leaning against the wall for support and cradling her face in my hands. I can’t imagine how this must look if someone were to come in here, but I don’t care because I’m about to come in her mouth.
The pressure builds, her head bobbing faster, and before the tension can peak, her right hand that’s flat on my thighs cups my balls as she moans around me. “Come in my mouth,” she begs.