Rachel nodded, opened her legs even more. “Please…”
“Please, what?”
“Don’t tease,” she begged, arching her back and lifting her hips.
He chuckled and moved his hand lower, to her open folds. “You’re wet already,” he said in a growl, spreading her juices around her pussy without penetrating her. “I’ve been dreaming about having my fingers inside you since Saturday, when I made you come just by cupping your pussy through your pants.”
“It was hot,” she whispered.
“Yes, it was. I had to jerk off several times that night, but it didn’t help. I still wanted inside you.”
At his words, she whimpered, her legs parting wider. Adrian took his eyes off her and closed them, praying for calm. This was getting too hot, too fast. When he opened them, he realized the one thing he’d never liked about his kitchen—the shiny black cabinets—were now a godsend, because he could see her reflected in them.
He moved his hand up her chest. She had no bra on. Better. He cupped one of her breasts and roughly caressed it. His Grease Barbie gasped aloud, flinging her head over his shoulder. “More,” she pleaded. She liked it rough. Good.
He did the same to the other breast, stroking it hard, pinching her nipple while his other hand cupped her pussy. When he had her thrashing in need, he probed her entrance. It was so damn tight, but she was drenched. It would have to do.
He slid two fingers inside her, as far as they went.
Rachel flinched. “Hurts,” she whispered in a moan.
“How much?” he asked, stilling but not retreating.
Her legs were shaking but she opened them even more. “Just enough to make this hotter.”
Fuck, she was made for him. He thrust his fingers as deep as possible, the palm of his hand flush against her engorged clit, rubbing it. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at yourself in the cabinets.” She obeyed, and a new rush of liquid heat met his fingers. “You look so fucking hot.”
“Where are those nachos, guys?” came from the other room.
They froze. Adrian tried to listen for footsteps, but his heart was pumping so hard, he couldn’t hear shit. Rachel was panicking, doing her best to disentangle herself from him. No way. He tightened his hold on her and spoke as loud and as calm as he could. “Issues with the oven. Start playing without us. We’ll be there as soon as the nachos are ready.” Then he whispered to her, “Stop wiggling on top of my dick or I’ll fuck you on the spot, bareback.”
“Fine,” came from the living room.
“Now, where were we?” he asked her, sliding his fingers out and then roughly shoving them in as deep as he could, smacking her clit against his palm. Her gasping moan and the way she arched her back told him she was on again, so he continued. “Ah, yes, you were going to come for me. And I was going to spill on myself just from watching you.” She’d looked so sexy in the bathroom, with her lips red and thoroughly kissed and her rosy expression, but her face had been buried in his shirt and he hadn’t seen her coming. He wanted to see that. Feel that.
She was panting, holding his hand in place with her own. Asking for more. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m not moving my hand until you explode around my fingers.” He took turns pinching her nipples and squeezing her breasts, and he felt her tensing in his arms. “Can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy and have it strangling my cock like a vise. Milking me.”
From there, he lost control of the situation. Thank fuck the sounds of shooting and the kids’ yells were loud. She rode his fingers, gasping and moaning, her sweet ass bucking against his cock while he clenched his teeth and prayed to all the gods he knew that he wouldn’t lose it on the spot.
“Fuck me,” she let out in a whimper. “Hard. I’m going to come, Adrian.”
She was getting too loud, so he covered her mouth with his hand and obliged.
The view reflected from the cabinets was damn hot, with his hand deep in her pants and the other on her mouth. Rachel writhed on his lap, her shirt rolled up, her nipples tight and puckered.
And then it happened. Her body tensed and her pussy clamped around his thrusting fingers, spasming in rhythmic contractions, while her back arched and she dug her short nails into his hand on her mouth. She looked so fucking beautiful coming in his arms. Thank the Lord he’d had the presence of mind to gag her, because she was a screamer.
It took a while before she floated back. As she opened her eyes, the timer went off.
“Just in time,” he said smugly, and she burst into laughter, covering her face.
“You’re good,” she admitted.
Adrian turned her face to him and kissed her. “Were you telling the truth when you said that what we did in that bathroom meant nothing and that it was already forgotten?” Because he hadn’t been able to get any sleep since without waking up with a motherfucker hard-on or wet sheets. If she said it really had meant nothing to her, it was going to crush him.
Rachel shrugged and, after rolling her shirt down and tugging her pants up, stood on shaky legs. “You seemed to be out of words, so I helped you blow me off.”
“I didn’t need help because I wasn’t blowing you off.” He followed suit and got up, grimacing as he tried to rearrange his dick, which probably had the zipper engraved on it. He bracketed her against the counter with his arms. “As long as you’re okay with the terms—that is, no strings attached—I’m more than willing to fuck you as much as you want for as long as you want.” He had the feeling it was going to take a while to work her out of his system. He cupped her face. “Deal?”
She chuckled softly. “Such a romantic. You’ve proven your expertise, though. I guess I’ll try to fit you in.”
So cheeky. He kissed her, long and hard, until she whimpered. Better.
“Nachos?” someone yelled from the other room.
She pushed him away gently and cleared her throat. “Coming.” She opened the oven and grabbed the tray.
“You can’t go in there with that poking out of your jeans.” She looked around, saw an apron his cleaning lady used, and gestured at it. “Use that.” Then she leaned close and whispered, “My sweatpants may be a fashion fiasco, but this flowery apron ain’t gonna be much better. Oh, and wash your hands, Boomer. The smell will give us away.”
He painted her lips with her juices and then kissed her thoroughly once more. “Love your smell. And your taste.”
She left the kitchen, laughing, and he stayed behind, unable to walk. Again. So far, all their encounters had finished in the same manner for him. And yet, he couldn’t erase the smile on his face. He washed his hands and, after waiting for several minutes, opted to wear the damn apron, because that thing in his pants wasn’t going down any time soon.
When he made it into the living room, he glanced at Rachel, who winked at him. She had the just-screwed look. He was jealous of anyone seeing her like that, but the kids were too busy to notice. Heck, they didn’t even notice his apron.
They played and ate and laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much in Alden, never mind the pathetic state of his cock.
Rachel’s cell beeped with a message. It was near Ash, so she asked him to read it for her.