Marshal's hands lower to my behind, and he pulls me closer until our hips collide. "So are you saying that we go to your parents and tell them about us?"
I nod.
"Then we come back here and I get another one for the team?" His eyebrows dance in a way that makes my insides clench.
Damn, I need to change.
With just the thought of his inference, my panties dampen.
"The team," I say, "got many last night."
Marshal takes one step toward me and then another, moving me backward. Once again, I'm pinned between the wall and his hard body. Leaning forward, his elbow lands casually near my cheek and his chin rests on his fist. The spicy, masculine scent of him fills my senses as his blue eyes drink me in. I can't help but think about last night, about his monster cock, and about how having him right here erases all the hurt that Jack's wandering inflicted.
"I want more," he says, his cool spearmint breath tickling my nose.
I try to swallow. "More?"
His grin inches upward, lopsided and sexy as hell. "Our new agreement needs some revision. I don't think we can be friends with benefits if I haven't tasted your pussy."
“You—”
He touches his finger to my lips. "Correction. Not tasted. Eaten, devoured, consumed. That small sample last night has been lingering in my thoughts. Today at lunch, with you right across the table, I kept thinking about it. All day really. Your come on my fingers was sweeter than honey. Sami, I have never told you, but I have this condition that can be serious—life-threatening even—if not treated."
I can't look away even with all of the bullshit in his tone.
"It's a real thing," he says. "You can look it up on WebMD. It has to do with my blood sugar. I need come—sweet and honey-like—to survive. I've searched and searched. Up until last night, my life expectancy was dropping by the day. But now that I found it, I need more."
A giggle bubbles in my throat. "That does sound serious.”
“It is.” He shakes his head. “The quest has been tireless, but finally it’s paid off.”
“With me.”
“Right in front of me the whole time.” The glint in his eyes is sexy and fun. “My life is now literally in your hands.” He lowers his gaze and brings it back up. “Okay, not your hands.”
“I wouldn't want you to die, not yet."
"I'm much too young. Besides, I have a plan, a plan that could quite possibly save my life." He reaches down and cups my core, then one of his strong fingers begins running along the seam of my jeans, and I wish I would've worn a dress, a skirt, shorts, something. With his other hand he pulls me against him. My breasts smash against his wall of a chest. “My plan will require a regular routine involving my mouth and your life-saving pussy.”
My nipples harden as my core clenches at nothing. I try to breathe, but each breath is shallow.
Marshal tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. "Think about that," he says, "while we're talking to Paul and Jean. Think about my face buried in your pretty pink pussy. Think about your sweet come dripping from my chin as your legs squeeze my face and you shout my name."
My mouth dries and I can't help but wonder if it weren't for him pressed against me, I might fall, my legs no longer seeming capable of holding my weight.
He kisses my lips, sweet and chaste like a friend, but his words aren't friendly. They're sexy and deep. They go beyond my ears to my core, twisting it, soaking my panties, and creating a void I need filled. The ripples of his tone send vibrations deep inside of me as I imagine everything he's said.
His face between my legs.
His tongue teasing my clit and the sight of him dripping with my essence.
I reach up to his scruffy cheeks and pull him closer, smashing our lips together as my tongue invades his warm mouth. Spearmint. I savor the minty coolness as our tongues probe and stroke.
When we finally pull apart, my lips are bruised and his cock is hard against my stomach.
Marshal kisses my nose. "Yes, now we're ready to convince Paul and Jean."
Marshal
I've known Paul and Jean most of my life. I've known all of Sami's family, including her brother, Byron, and her two sisters, Jane and Millie. When we were all children, our entire neighborhood had an open-door policy. Her parents were like my parents and vice versa. Not just hers but all the families in the neighborhood.
Now as we drive to Johnson, not too far from Grand Rapids, a million childhood memories fill my thoughts. A million adventures. A million childish schemes...and in so many of them, the woman sitting beside me was an integral part. I steal a glance her way.
Sami's looking out the window, her lips pressed together in a straight line as she takes in the old neighborhood, the small houses that long ago seemed big and the park where we used to play.
Jack is an ass.
This is hardly slumming it.
This is our heritage.
My parents lived down the street from Sami’s family for years before they moved to a different neighborhood. Sami's parents still live in the same house where they raised their four children. Though these homes aren't mansions, the houses have fared well, many with new paint, new porches, and all with well-kept lawns.
Driving these streets is coming home.
I reach over and squeeze Sami's hand. "What are you thinking about?"
Her green eyes twinkle. "Your monster cock."
"I don't believe you."
"And why not?"
"Because you weren't smiling. If you were thinking about my cock, you'd be smiling ear to ear." I wink. "Or touching your own pussy."
Sami giggles. "Pretty confident in yourself, aren't you?"
"Yes. See, now you're smiling. Now you're thinking about my cock. If you want me to pull over, I'll be glad to touch your pussy for you."
"Maybe later," she says, not fully dashing my hopes but not raising them any higher.
I try again. “What were you thinking about before?”
"Jack."
Well, fuck. There goes that conversation. "No wonder you weren't smiling."
"I don't want my parents to know what he did. It's not to protect him—it's to protect me."
"You? You didn't do anything wrong."
Her lip disappears as she turns back to the window. "I didn't, but to be honest, I now see that he wasn't my Mr. Forever. I should have realized that. I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I should have broken it off...
“I am remembering things, times...I didn’t say anything or I just pacified him.”
“Pacified?” My grip of the steering wheel tightens. “Tell me he has an anger problem and ever hurt you. I swear to God, he won’t live to see tomorrow.”
Sami flashes me a grin. “Not like that. He hurt me by cheating. By pacifying I mean that I agreed to the fancy restaurants when I really wanted a burger from The Suds.”
“The Suds,” I repeat with a grin. “You know, we could go there after we leave your parents. They still bring the food to the window of the car.” It is a drive-in restaurant about a mile away that never read the memo that the 1950s are a thing of the past.