Bossy (34 page)

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Authors: Kim Linwood

BOOK: Bossy
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“Nooooooo...” I drag the word out. “But I didn’t bring PJs, since I thought I’d be here with my
boyfriend.
” He actually flinches at the emphasis I put into it. “So I want you to look away while I strip to my underwear.”

To my surprise, he actually turns. “I’m doing this under fucking protest. You’re a tease, babe.”

“Am not.” I slip my clothes off as quickly as I can.

“Are too.”

“Am not.” I climb onto the bed.

“Nice ass.”

Looking back, I find him ogling me with his usual cocky smirk. With a squeal, I rush under the covers, pulling them up to my neck while he laughs. “You said you wouldn’t look, you jerk.”

“I looked away while you stripped, babe. You didn’t say anything about after you were done.” He roots around in his suitcase until he finds a pair of pajama pants. “Some of us came prepared.”

What I’m not prepared for is him changing right in front of me. Tugging his shirt off, Gavin bares his muscular torso, his dark tattoos stark against his skin. I’m too drunk to hide my interest as I watch him strip. He grins, unbuckling his pants slowly. “You like the show, babe? I’ll let you slip in a dollar if you use your teeth.”

Heat rushes to my face, and I make a point of turning around. “You’d have to make change, and there’s not much to look at anyway.”

He only laughs, and I hear his pants hit the floor. “Better hurry if you want to see the main event.”

And the stupid thing? I look. I can’t help it. Pulling down the comforter just enough to peek, I catch him as he tugs off his black boxer briefs, tossing them onto his pants. Oh my God. He doesn’t cover a thing, letting his dick hang out.
Holy crap.

Not quite as impressive as my first look, but still, wow. He catches me, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “Looks good enough to eat, right?” Even as I watch, he starts to grow, and all I can do is stare wide-eyed as he gets longer and thicker. Then he tugs his pajamas up. “Show’s over, babe. Unless you’re up for dessert.” He laughs at my frantic head shake and turns to the other room. Stopping in the doorway, he eyes the couch skeptically.

Gavin throws a pleading glance my way, with big puppy dog eyes and a dismay written all over his face. “I’m going to be walking fucking crooked tomorrow from all the kinks I’ll get sleeping on that thing.”

“Serves you right.” I already know it’s too short for him, and it’s got those wooden armrests. He’s not kidding, but seriously? Sharing a bed?

“Fine. Whatever.” He still looks like a sad, kicked puppy.

I sigh. This was probably the look mini-Gavin practiced in the mirror before he was old enough to work on his mother-pleasing face. It works, damn him. “Stop. Alright, you can stay. But keep on your side. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

He looks genuinely relieved. “I know I don’t say this often, but you’re a fucking gem, Sis.” When he turns, it’s pretty obvious that his pants don’t hide a thing. Still at half mast, his dick bounces freely under the soft fabric, holding my attention in ways I don’t want to admit to.

The bed shifts as he sits down and slips under the comforter. I tuck down the sides, wrapping myself in, but even just knowing that he’s there creates a kind of intimacy that’s hard to ignore.

Jesus, Angie, it’s not like you have the hots for him or anything.

Right?

Chapter 9: Angie

U
gh. I’m pretty sure I’m in bed, but everything’s rocking. My eyes open slowly, and I look around with bleary eyes. Why does my head hurt so much? What is this place? Is it heaven? Everything’s white.

Suddenly it all comes back to me with a crash. The cruise. The wine. Gavin.

Still blinking, I’m convinced something else feels wrong. I shift, or I try to. I’m stuck. Why am I stuck? Drawing a deep breath, I stop and think. It’s like swimming to the surface from far underwater. Mornings are never my thing, but hung over, they’re apparently even worse.

I’m pinned by an arm, slung over me by a large warm presence that’s spooning me. It feels nice. Cozy almost. I’m tempted to close my eyes and slip back to sleep. Of course, the only people in here are me and Gavin, so—

My eyes go wide. Shit. He’s supposed to be on his side, not attached to mine. What’s he doing wrapped around me? And why does it have to feel so nice? Now that I’m aware of him, I can feel his deep breathing, his chest pressing against my back every time he inhales, and his soft warm breath brushing over my neck when he lets it back out. His muscular arm is heavy, holding me close. I’m lying in a sort of running position, with one leg in front of the other, and one of his legs is across the back one. I’m completely stuck.

He’s asleep. Thank God. Maybe he doesn’t know. I don’t want to wake him, but I’m not sure what to do. I want to stay put, even burrow in deeper against him, but with how things are, that would be a Terrible Idea. But what can I do? It’s hard to think when my head feels like I’m wearing a helmet one size too small.

Indecision makes me pause, pausing makes me lower my head to my pillow, and being hung over makes my eyes slide shut. I’ll fix it in the morning. Or whenever I wake up. Then all the white fades back to black.

Chapter 10: Gavin

M
mm... Nothing like waking up with an almost naked girl in your arms and her sexy ass pressing against your morning wood. I don’t usually stick around long enough, but so long as I’m here... except wait, shit. This isn’t my place, and that’s not where that particular ass is supposed to be. Or I’m supposed to be. Or something.

My eyes pop open, finding wild, dark bed hair sticking in all directions right in front of my face. Angie. Not only is she pressing against my hardon, I’ve got my arm around her. It also looks like it’s decidedly my fault, as I’m about as close to her side of the bed as is possible without pushing her off the bed.

Well, fuck.

I listen and hear her soft steady breathing. At least she’s still asleep. My cock twitches, thinking this is awesome, but this isn’t my gig. God knows I’d love to fuck her brains out, and if I take it soft and sweet, she might even let me, but when it happens, it’s going to be because she wants it, not because I’ve got her trapped and unconscious. I have my pride. And morals, I guess, but don’t let it get around. A guy has a reputation to maintain.

Alright, easy does it. I try to slide away, but she’s grabbed onto my arm, which is fucking cute and all, but doesn’t make it any easier to pull away. Still, she’s a heavy sleeper, and with a little tug I get my arm loose. Then it’s just a matter of rolling away carefully.

It’s when I immediately run out of comforter that I understand how I ended up on her end of the bed. Self-preservation. The little blanket thief. Most of it’s hanging over the edge and down on the floor on the other side of her. I’ve probably just been chasing her across the mattress in my sleep, trying to stay warm. So nothing happened.

No harm, no foul. Unfortunately.

I grab my phone from the nightstand. Almost eleven. Man, we’ve slept in. Good thing we don’t have a schedule. Throwing my legs over the edge of the bed, I gather my will before pushing myself to my feet. Mornings suck, my mouth tastes like cotton and I need a shower.

That, and my hardon’s refusing to die down.

I close the door to the bathroom quietly so I don’t wake her. A quick brushing of the teeth, one really awkward leak since I’m still hard as rock, and then into the shower. Fuck, I need one like this at home. It’s fucking huge, and the pressure’s the kind that peels the dirt right off your back. We’re fucking millionaires. Why do I have a crappy shower?

As soon as the hot water hits my back, I forget about it. The shower fills with steam and the hot water pounds down my back, relaxing every muscle in my body. Well, apart from one. Apparently my cock’s pissed I didn’t get my morning fix, and has decided it needs attention. Since the odds of getting Angie’s help in the immediate future are pretty fucking slim, I guess I’m fisting it. Not as much fun as with a little help, but a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

Immediately, my mind tries to imagine how this morning might’ve gone had Angie actually been interested. And naked. Definitely naked. The swell of her gorgeous tits is already burned into my mind from that first night. I only got a glimpse of her smooth pussy before she bailed on me, but that glimpse will stick with me for the rest of my life, along with the view of her rounded ass and the slope of her sexy back I left behind only minutes ago.

I close my eyes and remember the brief taste I had of her soft lips. Nice and plump, they’d look good wrapped around my cock, sliding up and down the length of it in time with my fist. The warm hollow of her mouth. The wet touch of her tongue along the underside. Oh, Jesus.

I stroke faster, my body tensing up as I approach the point of no return. Images of Angie on her knees in front of me and working me with that pouty little mouth flash over the backs of my eyelids. My calves tighten, bringing me up on my toes as I work myself harder and faster. I feel the boiling in my balls, and my cock swells in my hand. And that’s of course just the moment the door opens.

The point of no return flashes by, and my cock explodes, shooting thick streams against the glass shower door, one after another. Just on the other side, Angie’s wide eyes stare at me in shock, but there’s nothing I can do. I pulse over and over until just a dribble seeps out the end, the shower door between us plastered with translucent white trails.

Oh fuck me.

She’s frozen in place, but finally finds her voice. “Oh God, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t—I just needed a glass of water, and—I’ll close the door.” She slams it shut.

Yeah. So sorry. Awesome.

I hose down the door with the showerhead, rinse myself clean and shut the water off. I dry myself slowly, dreading going back out there. If my brain had been working enough, I should’ve invited her in to help clean up, but it’s too late for witty one liners. Like relations weren’t bad enough already, now there’s going to be an ice front worthy of the fucking Cold War.

Talk about something coming between us.

Maybe I should just go out there naked, it’s not like she hasn’t seen the whole show by now. That might shut her up. Except I just came, so I’m feeling good. Embarrassed, but good. Pulling my pajama pants on, I take a deep sigh before opening the door, prepared to face the music. I’m sure this will be awesome.

Angie’s in bed, rolled away from me, her shoulders shaking. Fuck, is she actually crying? What the hell am I supposed to say to that? “Listen. Angie. I’m sorry.” Why the fuck am I sorry? She’s the one who burst in on me.

Her shoulders heave. That seems over the top. Did I hit some sort of trigger or something?

“Gavin...” Her voice is strained.

Drawing a deep breath, I wait for it. She snorts. Hold on, is she—

That’s not fucking crying. “Angie...” I put all the menace I can into my tone and she loses it.

It explodes out of her, peals of laughter rushing out like a burst water main. I’d call it musical, but it’s so out of control and raw. It’d be fucking cute if it wasn’t at my expense. It’s so bad, she rolls over onto her back and beats the sheets with her fists and wheezes for air.

“Oh God.” She barely gets it out between breaths. “You should—you should see your face right now.”

For fuck’s sake, it wasn’t
that
funny. Can’t a guy have a little private time without it turning into comedy hour? “What, and you don’t take care of business, babe? Didn’t you hear the fucking shower?”

For a moment she stops, staring at me with those big brown eyes, her lips pinched tightly. The corners of her lips are pulling up, as if she’s just barely hanging on. She shakes her head no. She snorts, then loses it again.

Completely out from under the covers and sprawling across the bed, I don’t think she realizes how amazingly fuckable she looks right now in only her bra and panties. It takes a lot of a willpower to not jump up on the bed and throw myself down between her legs.
That
would shut her up. Instead, I roll my eyes and pretend to look for something in my suitcase so she won’t see me stiffening up. In this mood she’d probably just laugh, and my pride can only take so much fucking abuse.

While I’m rooting around, Angie seems to quiet down. Maybe she’s finally done.

She snorts.

Or not.

“Enough already. I fucking get it. Watching me jerk off is fucking hilarious. Are we fucking done yet?”

She sits up, biting down on her lower lip. Lifting her hands, balled up into fists, right in front of her she pushes out at me while spreading her fingers wide. “Splooosh!” Then she throws herself at the bed, losing it again.

Alright. That’s it. I’ve fucking had it. She wants to act like a kid? I’ll show her what happens to bad little girls. Two quick steps and I leap onto the bed. She looks up in confusion, but doesn’t have enough time to do anything before I pick her up. Fuck, she’s so light.

“What are you doing? Put me down, you perv!” She doesn’t know whether to be mad or laugh, and does a little of both, still giggling while her eyes spark angrily.

“Only doing what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Sitting down at the edge of the bed, I throw her over my lap, face down and cheeks up. Fuck, that’s fine. Putting my left arm across her back to keep her in place, I put my right hand right on the perkiest ass I’ve ever had my hands on. Her smooth skin is warm and soft underneath my palm.

She wriggles, trying to get loose. “Get your hands off me!” She’s not laughing quite so hard anymore.

I don’t answer. Lifting my hand dramatically, I bring it down with a loud smack. Her soft flesh quivers, making me want to sink into her from behind and watch. She looks so fucking sexy like that.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

I smack her again, watching her ass jiggle. “Just a little lesson in respect, Sis.”

“What? Fuck you!”

“Rule number one, when the bathroom door’s closed, it means it’s busy. Were you raised in a fucking barn?”

Smack
.

Her ass reddens a little. “Ow! Jesus, Gavin, I was half asleep, alright. I didn’t even think about it.” She tries to get loose, but I’m too strong for her.

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