Page 61 of Sister of the Bride

Toby shoots me a wicked grin, like maybe hedoesknow about my thighs and what’s happening between them. Smoldering Toby isback, and my god, he’s working for me.

“Don’t get brain freeze,” I stutter, a suggestion that must come directly from my own frozen brain. I have no idea what to do with a smoldering Toby, not when we’re crammed together in this tiny kitchen, no one to interrupt us. Not when I’m wearing only a bra and my nipples are so hard I worry they’re going to bore through the fabric. Not when I’m squeezing my thighs together with enough force to start a campfire.

“Cold is not my problem at the moment,” Toby says. His eyes drop to my mouth, still sticky sweet from the ice cream. My tongue involuntarily swipes my lower lip as I pull in a shuddering breath.

Honesty. Might as well try it.

“Toby, it feels like…” My brain is swirling, working overtime to both form words and restrain my body. Toby is so close, and I want to touch him so badly. But…honesty. “Are you flirting with me?”

“For a while now,” he says with a sly grin. “Is that okay?”

Honesty.

“Yes.”

Toby reaches up and runs his knuckles down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind, his eyes on the swelling of my breasts over my bra as I try to keep my breath from coming in heaving gasps.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

I don’t even need an honesty check this time. Theyesbursts out of me with such force that it draws a low chuckle from Toby.

I don’t know who moves first. It happens so fast. One minute we’re looking at each other, the next our mouths are crashing together. Toby grips the nape of my neck, his other hand going to my hip. He pulls me close, my knees parting so he can step between them like he’s always been there.

The first time I kissed Toby, I was caught off guard. Even though I was the one who started this whole kissing thing, at the time I was too busy being shocked and flustered to fully enjoy it. This time, though? This time I revel in the way he claims my mouth, his tongue demanding as it sweeps across mine. This time I moan against his lips as his hand creeps up from my hip, his thumb pausing at the lacy band of my bra, sweeping beneath the swell of my breast. This time I flex my fingers against the muscles of his back, this time I tip my chin up and tilt my head to take in more of him, wrap my legs around his waist and memorize the hard ridge of him, all too apparent in those gray sweats as I pull him closer.

“Fuck, Pippin, you feel so good,” he says, his forehead pressed to mine. His hips roll against me, sending a ripple of pleasure through my core. His fingers tangle in my hair, gripping tight, the slight pull on my scalp so delicious I can practically taste it. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” I hiss, answering with a hip roll of my own. We’re already racing past just kissing, and there’s a part of me that wants to ask if this is a good idea. But that part of me quickly drowns in the feel of Toby’s thumb skating over my nipple. I drop my head back and sigh, giving him a chance to lower his lips to my throat, dropping a line of gentle kisses along my collarbone. His fingers gently tug at the cup of my bra, freeing my breast so he can roll my nipple between his fingers.God, just that alone makes the taut tension of an orgasm form low in my belly, and when he couples that with another thrust of his hard cock against my center, I nearly come apart.

Holy fuck, I have never felt anything like this, and I’m still wearing most of my clothes.

I reach for Toby’s face and bring his lips back to mine. I need to give, because if I just sit here and take, I will lose it and this will all be over too fast. I busy myself with exploring his lips, his tongue. He nips at my lower lip, and I let out a low moan that would embarrass me if I didn’t feel so goddamn good. But that’s nothing compared to the sound that comes out of me when Toby dips his head and pulls my nipple into his mouth, his tongue laving across my pebbled skin, his hand kneading my other breast.

Holyfuck, honesty was a good idea.

“You are so…delicious,” Toby says, his lips fluttering against my skin with each word. “The most goddamn gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

I could spend all night here, my head pressed against the kitchen cabinet as Toby lavishes my breasts with attention. Hell, I could come from just this.

But Toby’s not done. His hands leave my breasts and float down to the hem of my leggings, grasping the waistband. He drops to his knees right there on the kitchen floor, then gazes up at me. Before he speaks, he leans forward and nuzzles his nose along the seam. I writhe against him, desperate for more.

“I want to taste you,” he says, his hot breath causing me to move even closer to the edge of the counter, closer to his lips. His eyes flick up to mine, and his voice is low and husky, but sure. “Please?”

I have lost the power of speech, so all I can do is nod as I stare down at my best friend between my thighs. His cheeks are flushed, his brow furrowed, every muscle in his body taut and corded. He tugs on my leggings as I lift myself slightly off the counter, canting my hips so he can slide them down. He discards them on the floor, then places his large hands on my inner thighs, spreading me wide, the evidence of my arousal pink and glistening before him. Feather-light kisses dance up my left thigh. He crosses over to the right with the most torturous puff of air that makes my back bow, then kisses down that thigh. I’m nearly levitating by the time he returns to my center. The tip of his finger slides ever so gently down my seam as he gazes at me in wonder.

“For me,” he says, and I can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or if it’s a question for me. Either way, I’m unable to respond, all the breath gone from my lungs. He leans close, his curls tickling the insides of my thighs, and I groan in anticipation. I have never wanted anything as badly as I want Toby’s tongue right now.

“Please, Toby,” I gasp, arching to bring myself closer to him. My entire body feels like a live wire, tight and quivering.

The anticipation is no match for the feeling, though, when he finally laps me up in one long, firm stroke. God, I hope these old brick town houses have good insulation, because I cannot suppress the guttural sound that explodes out of me when his tongue begins working in light circles around my clit. My legs tremble, and I tangle my fingers in Toby’s curls so I don’t rocket right off the countertop. He lifts my calves and rests my thighs on his shoulders, his hands going to my ass to steady me as he meticulously takes me apart. His firm grip, kneading into my skin, lets me tremble and shake without fear of falling.

Except I’mdefinitelyfalling.

But I shove that terrifying thought out of my brain, or maybe Toby’s tongue banishes it, because as his fingers sink into the curve of my ass, his mouth works to bring me right to the brink.

“So sweet,” he says as he devours me. “You taste so fucking sweet.”

“Don’t stop,” I whine, pulling hard on his hair.

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