Page 53 of Second Sets Omnibus

“You good, Pretty Girl? Can I stick my fingers in your pussy and make you come on my bike?”

What I don’t tell her is I want her to christen my winning bike with her pussy juices so I can continue to win fat stacks of cash to fuck her on.

Shit. My dick rages inside my jeans, begging to punch through and fuck her right here. But If I fuck her first, I can’t show our precious Callum how to use his tongue correctly. Soon, he’ll be an expert. First, though, I need to prime her and get her juices flowing, so he has a juicy fruit to sink his teeth into.

“Yes,” she moans as I shove my fingers inside her, basking in the feel of her contracting inner walls seizing around my fingers.

“Good girl,” I whisper, slowly pumping my fingers in and out. “You’re so goddamn wet, Pretty Girl. Did you really not like the ride? Was it the vibrations that got you going?” I murmur, nipping at her neck again and leaving my marks behind on her flesh.

Mine. Fucking mine.

“Shut. Up,” she gasps, hiding her face in the crook of my neck. “Harder, Rad.”

Well, she doesn’t have to tell me twice. Grunting, I pick up the pace, enjoying my name on her lips. Her moans ring in my ears like music until she cries out into my neck, squeezingaround my fingers as she comes so hard her damn body trembles.

“You are fucking exceptional,” I whisper, kissing her cheek.

Her warm breath brushes across my skin when she pulls back, staring at me with glossed-over green eyes—a small smile tugs at her lips when she looks my face over. Dare I say, she seems impressed and likes what she sees.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she murmurs in a daze, leaning her forehead against mine.

Her breath picks up again when I wiggle my fingers, still nestled inside her. I contemplate leaving them inside her but decide against it. Bringing my soaked fingers to my mouth, I suck them in. Her taste explodes on my tongue. And yup. I’m keeping her forever. There’s no doubt about that. I’ll lock her on my bed or tie her up in my closet.

“God, you taste so damn good. I want to put this in a jar and keep it forever and…” River puts a hand over my mouth with a shake of her head.

“You’re really disgusting sometimes, but I’ll forgive you just this once because you gave me an orgasm,” she huffs, but my damn pride blooms, and I lick her hand.

“The best one ever, right?” I say with a grin, lifting her off the bike and setting her on her wobbly feet. I jump off, kicking the kickstand down so the bike rests. “Now, let’s throw some cash around and teach Callum a thing or two.”

“Teach him?” She raises a skeptical brow but still follows me through the back sliding glass door into the spotless kitchen—my domestic work of art. “What would we teach him?” Her skeptical voice echoes through the room, turning to me, awaiting an answer.

“Well, definitely not science or math, Pretty Girl. I’m talking…” I stick out my long tongue again, loving the way her eyes dilate at the sight, and wiggle it around. “Butt stuff, pussystuff, tongue stuff… Any type of stuff, really.” I shrug, walking further into the house with wild ideas running through my mind.

Ideas like River sprawled out with her pussy in the air and my mouth on it while he fucks her mouth, and then we take turns fucking her until my cock can sleep inside her. Shit. I discreetly adjust my cock inside my pants, watching her from the corner of my eyes.

Her nose wrinkles. “Butt stuff? Really? What are you, an alien?” Her eyes roll toward the ceiling.

“I could dress up as one if you wanted! I could paint my skin blue and probe you all night long.” My grin spreads when she shoots me a scathing look, shaking her head. “Well, in that case, welcome to Casa Callum and Rad,” I offer, spreading my arms wide and highlighting the beautiful house we own together.

“You two?” she asks, running a finger over the countertops. “You weren’t kidding about your domestic duties, were you?”

“I am the man of this house,” I proclaim with a grin, pulling my pants up further on my hips.

“Second man,” Callum mutters, moseying into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. The telltale sign that he’s nervous as fuck, having a chick in the house. But not just any chick, our River.

His eyes light up when she turns toward him and grins, offering him a little wave.

“Did you like your ride?” he asks quietly, never lifting his head. His eyes drift over the floor, studying the damn tile like it’s more interesting than the beautiful girl standing before us.

She side-eyes me, mischief sparkling in the depths of her green eyes, and shrugs. “Meh, it was okay.” I nearly sputter at her but decide to bite my tongue.

He smiles softly, finally lifting his eyes and meeting hers. Hearts explode over his head at the sight of her. “So, you hung-hungry?” he asks, taking a deep breath. I’ve never seen him so damn flustered before, let alone talk to a girl.

She shrugs again, once again looking around our place. “I could eat…” she trails off, looking off toward the small living room. “This place is nice,” she murmurs, offering him a warm smile. “How did you two?” I jerk my gaze to Callum, who looks off toward the small living room again, getting lost in his head.

“After my parents kicked me out, I came here,” I say, fondly looking around. I’ve only lived here for three years, but this has been more of a home for me than my other one ever was.

The environment my parents cultivated behind their four walls was more than toxic; it was downright deadly. My father, the beloved pastor of the Lutheran church, ruled that house with an iron fist. They placed rules upon rules on me, their only child, for years. No one ever knew the moment he stepped into the church, a firm mask fell into place. He became the man he thought the world wanted to see. Father of the year, if I say so myself. The moment I could escape, I did.