Page 47 of Lucky Laces
But he’s frozen in place, and my orgasm is hovering in the air, just barely out of reach.
“Please—”
His eyes flash back to mine, but they’re no longer twin thunderstorms of need.They’re confused and pissed and a little sad.
“What’s—?”I begin to ask.
Though, I don’t finish.
Because I hear it then.
The voice echoing through the hall—well, at the end of it.Because it’s being projected up the stairs.
To where my bedroom is.
“Yoohoo, darling!I wanted to check in on you after the quake,” Ernest calls.“I’ve brought your favorite—” I hear the crinkling of what I know is a brown paper bag.Because it’s morning.And I have one favorite morning meal.More crinkling and I’m imagining Ernest shaking the bag like it’s a container of kitty treats and he’s trying to get the pussies to run out.
Too bad mine is?—
I freeze.
Because Ernest and the wordpussiesis about ten steps too far.
And becausemypussy is exposed, my pajama shorts shoved down to just above my knees, Hudson’s fingers between my legs the only thing covering me.
“Diana?”he calls.“Missy, are you all right?”
I hear footsteps coming closer.
Know that he may go upstairs and check my bedroom first, but that sooner or later he’s going to make his way down this hallway and?—
I’m practically naked.
And Hudson is in bed next to me.
Another crinkle, that bag shaking.
Only this time it sounds much,muchcloser.
As though, he’s going to skip the upstairs searching and check the downstairs level first.
Shit.Shit.Shit?—
Hudson moves faster than me, reaching for the blankets and dragging them up and over me.
And not a second too soon because the second—the freakingsecond—that I clutch them to my chest, Ernest toddles into view.
His gaze is pointing down the hall, toward the door that leads out to the back yard, so it takes him a minute to realize the guest room is occupied.
Then he turns to face us and if I wasn’t naked and throbbing and so fucking close to an orgasm that my skin feels like it’s on fire and my nerves are aching (not to mention other things), his almost comically shocked expression would have made me laugh.
As it is, I’m too close to the edge to be truly amused.
Hudson grunts softly as he slides out of bed and I watch Ernest’s expression change, watch it become somehow even more shocked as Huddy limps to the door—it’s better than yesterday but more than I like to see as the woman in bed beside him, and definitely far more than the coach who has him on my roster.
A thought that has cold water dumped over me.
Icy fucking cold water.
