Page 65 of Body Check
“Shouldn’t you be working out right now?” I tease.
“I will be. I’m just waiting for you to spread your legs.”
Well, when he puts it that way, how can I refuse? The cold temperature barely registers in my mind as I let my legs dangle over the pool’s edge. I’m fairly certain someone could pour ice water over me right now and I wouldn’t mind. That’s how much heat is coursing through my veins as Dutton grips my knees and parts my legs before trailing a line of open-mouthed kisses down my belly and right to my mound.
“I’m so damn hungry,” he says.
“What are you waiting for?” I tease. “You can start whenever you want to."
That’s all the invitation he needs. My body nearly melts into the concrete as his lips make contact with my pussy. He’s relentless in his pursuit of my orgasm, and he’s eating me like he’s been starved for a week. I’m naked in broad daylight, letting my boyfriend devour me as his very talented tongue fucks mypussy. He’s not quiet, and neither am I. Every kiss from his lips, every lash of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers brings me one step closer to coming undone. His hands move to my hips, gripping the flesh there and holding on tight.
“You taste so fucking good,” he praises as the vibration of his voice sets off tingles all over my body. “I’m not done, though. I just want more. I’m going to eat this sweet pussy until I feel you come on my tongue.”
Those same tingles are back. Between his dick, his mouth, and his words, I know I won’t last long. I give myself over to him, letting every sensation take me closer and closer to the edge until I’m powerless to stop the orgasm that crashes over me.
28
Dutton
“You sure you don’t need help?” Ollie asks, getting in my way as I reach for the cutting board.
“Nope, I’m good,” I assure him, turning my attention to the garlic I’m chopping.
“Because I could make the salad while you work on that. I really don’t mind,” he says, reaching into the fridge and pulling out ingredients.
I sigh, but I don’t argue. And I don’t order him to get the hell out of the kitchen. That’s progress. It’s also resignation. I know from experience that Ollie won’t let up, and since he’s a pretty good cook, I don’t put up a fight.
We work in silence for a few minutes, and I’m beginning to think I shouldn’t have been so reluctant to let him help.
And then he opens his mouth.
“So, how are things with Birdie?” he asks, unable to hide his smile. This guy’s the biggest gossip I’ve ever met. He’s got his nose in everybody’s business, and he actually believes he’s some kind of matchmaker.
I consider ignoring him, but since I know that won’t work, I give in and answer. “Good.”
He waits for me to elaborate, and when I don’t, he sputters, “Good? That’s it?”
“Really good,” I amend.
“You’re killing me here,” Ollie says, shaking his head.
“Why? Because I’m usually so chatty and you can’t figure out why I’m not gushing about my love life?” I ask, but the poor guy looks so damn wounded that I give in and gush a little.. Dammit. I’m getting soft. “Things are great. Bridgette’s incredible. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m going to my fucking best every damn day to show her just how much she means to me.”
“Damn right you are,” Mickey says as he walks into the room and starts opening cupboards. “When’s dinner gonna be ready? I’m starving.”
I check the timer on the oven. “Ten minutes.”
“Cool,” he answers, nodding as he reaches for a box of crackers. He’s tossing them in the air and catching them in his mouth. I don’t even bother to tell him he’s ruining his appetite. The guy’s a bottomless pit.
I also don’t bother mentioning the crumbs he’s leaving all over the counter and the floor, or the fact that his shirt’s on backwards. Not so long ago, those things would have annoyed the shit out of me, but after watching Bridgette’s family dynamic in action, things shifted between us. I’m not sure how much he loves the idea of me dating Bridgette, but he wants what’s best for her, just like I do, and that’s the most important thing.
When we all sit down to dinner a little while later, I eat my meal while the guys chatter all around me. I catch a fair amount of shit for being antisocial, but there’s so much noise in this room, and there are at least three full, separate conversations going on, so if I ever did develop a sparkling personality, I’d just be adding to the chaos. No thanks. I’m happy eating my food and keeping to myself.
Until Blue drags me into the fray.
“Are we heading home?” he asks me, and though I understand the words, I have no clue what they mean.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, shoveling a bite of chicken into my mouth.
