He stood up, and the boxer shorts stayed where they were, bunched up around his crotch now.
I quickly looked away, fiddling with the toothbrush package in my hands.
After struggling for two point five seconds, big hands reached for it and pushed it through the plastic, clearly not where it was supposed to be pushed through.
“Jesus,” I said. “You’d be handy when I go to Home Depot and buy packaged tools.”
He chuckled as he handed me the freed toothbrush, then turned to the sink.
I walked to his other sink—kind of sad that I couldn’t share the one he was using without making it look weird—and waited for him to get done with the toothpaste before starting on mine.
“You put a whole lot of toothpaste on there,” I said, eyeing the kids’ watermelon flavor. “And I’m happy to see that you like the fun flavors.”
He chuckled. “I do. It’s much more enjoyable brushing my teeth when I’m not frying off my taste buds.”
I agreed.
Only, the other stuff was cheaper, and sometimes a girl had to make sacrifices so she could have nice panties.
Smiling, I used a much smaller dollop of paste and then started brushing my teeth like I normally did.
It was when there was laughing beside me that I turned to find him chuckling, trying to keep it silent as he kept his mouth closed around his toothbrush.
“What?” I asked, confused as to why he was laughing.
Almost to the point of tears!
He finished up and spit, rinsing his mouth out before answering.
I continued to brush my teeth throughout all of this, my eyes never straying from him.
“There are two kinds of people in this world,” he drawled, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “People that hold the toothpaste in their mouth while they brush, and people like you, who allow it to run down their chin. Making them look like they’re foaming at the mouth.”
I rolled my eyes. “I have a texture problem. As in, I don’t like things that are thick feeling, like syrups, toothpaste, milkshakes… and you know what.”
He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling. “I know what?”
I bent, spit, rinsed, and cleaned off my face before drying my hands on the hand towel that Callum had neglected to use.
He leaned his hips on the counter as he waited for me to answer.
My face was flushed, and I decided to equate it to the sweetness in the toothpaste, rather than why I was really getting embarrassed.
“Well,” I admitted. “If you want to know, I don’t like giving blow jobs. It’s the thickness of the, um, stuff, that makes me want to vomit. In fact, I did vomit before. Not the precome part, but the thick, disgusting salty shit that comes out at the end.”
His face scrunched up then.
I wasn’t sure why, so I continued to explain as I turned my back on him and headed into the bedroom.
CHAPTER 11
A penny for your thoughts seems a little pricey.
-Bram to Shine
SHINE
The thought of her with some other man’s dick in her mouth, coming onto her tongue, literally sent shards of rage through my veins.
I followed behind her, eyeing where my t-shirt barely covered her ass.
“It started with ice cream,” she babbled, putting a knee onto the bed, turning, and curling it underneath her as she sat with one foot on the ground. “I have to eat it like super-duper fast, before it melts. Because I don’t like the consistency of it when it’s melted.” She made a disgusted face. “That means that milkshakes and smoothies are out. It also means that things like bananas are out as well. They’re thick and mushy, like baby food. Or applesauce. Gross.”
She was too cute to be upset with for long.
Grinning, I walked to the door and headed out of it, checking on my brother who was still passed out in the middle of my kitchen floor.
When I got back into my bedroom, I locked it, then flicked the light off before heading to the bed.
“I forgot to make my pallet.” She sounded odd. “I need the light to…”
I felt her get up, but before either one of us could think better of it, I reached for her and pulled her down into the bed with me.
We both ended up there a lot harder and faster than I’d intended, with her partially underneath of me, and our mouths practically touching.
“Oh,” she breathed.
That’s when I couldn’t help myself any longer.
I moved, pressing forward those last few inches that were keeping our mouths apart.
Her inhale was sharp, and her body soft underneath mine.
The moment that my mouth met hers, it was like some switch was flipped between both of us.
One second she wasn’t mine, and the next she was.
With one kiss, one press of our lips and touch of our bodies, we were each other’s.
I growled when I felt her shift her body to press more fully against me, and when her hesitant tongue touched mine, I knew that this was about to be freakin’ awesome.
I’d wanted this for what felt like forever.
No more were we going to dance around what was happening between us.
Now we were real.
And I really fuckin’ wanted real.
Especially with Iris.
“Are you sure about this?” I panted, pulling back just far enough that I could allow her lips to move freely against mine.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, and her one unpinned leg around my hip, and pulled me closer with both.
“I’ve done nothing but think about this since I left your house to go to work,” she admitted. “I thought about you in my hotel room while I was…”
I didn’t let her finish her sentence.
Couldn’t.
Mostly because I knew, if I allowed her to, she would be making this happen a whole lot faster than I intended.
And also, I wanted to draw this out.
The last week had been a lesson in control.
If I was being honest, when she jumped on the back of my bike and we rode for half the night, I wanted to take her straight home and fuck the absolute hell out of her.
Something in which I told myself over and over again she wasn’t ready for.
But, after asking her just a few seconds ago, I took it to heart.
She was ready, or she wouldn’t be doing this.
She was a smart cookie.
I trusted her more than I trusted my own brothers at this point.
If she said she was ready…
“Kiss me like you mean it,” she ordered, pulling up using my neck and pressing her mouth against mine again.
That’s when I felt the powerful thighs I’d done nothing but think about since I’d seen them when she’d been in my t-shirt.
Allowing my hand room to roam, I moved it up the length of her thigh, starting at the back of her knee, and stopping at the line of script that wrapped around her upper thigh.
“What does this say?” I asked, allowing my fingers to run along the line.
“It is the lyrics from a Garth Brooks song,” she snickered. “Not the one you sang the other night, though.”
“Which one?” I asked curiously, pulling back and looking into her face.
“‘Friends in Low Places.’”
Her lips were plump and full, showing off my attentions. Her eyes were glazed, and when her tongue came out to lick her lower lip, I couldn’t stop myself from my hand clenching her fine ass.