Authors: Tori Brooks
In Her Sights
In Her Sights
Copyright © 2014 Mike’s Basement, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from Mike’s Basement, Inc. For permission requests (outside of the scope of “Fair Use” doctrine), contact:
This book is a work of fiction. The characters and events described are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
For Mobi Editions
Thank you to Lee, Cailean, and Alexander. While my characters resemble my own teens less and less as time goes on, they and their friends are my inspiration. My husband has been my rock. Sometimes almost literally as he holds me back when I want to launch myself at previously mentioned teens. I think some of my readers have the same feeling on occasion. I don’t miss being a teenager or young adult, but sometimes it’s fun to sit back and watch. Sometimes. Occasionally. From a distance.
Dev was coming home for her graduation and Lindsay vibrated with excitement as she did her makeup. She was eighteen now,
she finally got him into an actual physical relationship. That meant when he left to go wherever the hell it was they were going to record their next album, she could go with him. There was no reason for her to be left behind in Seattle anymore. And she wouldn’t put up with it, Lindsay decided.
Glancing at the clock, she hurried to finish, only slowing down again for her mascara. You didn’t rush mascara. With her makeup and hair done, Lindsay checked her dress one last time. It was short enough to make her dad raise one eyebrow, but probably not both. She could sit without causing a riot, and per Dev’s requirement, she didn’t show the color of her panties or bra – which meant she was wearing a bra. She’d have to talk to him about that, it was a restriction she didn’t appreciate.
Lindsay grabbed her purse and keys on the way out the door and slid behind the wheel of Dev’s Ferrari. That he let her borrow it while he was across the country at college said something, and Lindsay loved him all the more for it. Trying not to total his car really improved her driving, so Dev’s trust in her paid off.
Thinking about Dev’s unwavering trust and devotion made Lindsay remember his friends’ less complementary opinions of her. Bryan and Brenda were supportive, but it didn’t seem to make an impact. Kenny, the leader the rock band Dev played in, thought she was evil. And Jess, the idiot lead singer ... Lindsay wasn’t actually sure what Jess thought, only that he didn’t like her. It was distinctly possible Jess didn’t think about anything other than getting laid. She wouldn’t be surprised.
The thing was, Lindsay was a diagnosed nymphomaniac. She thought about little else besides sex. If that really was all that Jess thought about, they should be kindred spirits. They weren’t. Recognizing their similarities made Lindsay dislike Jess even more. She had a reason for her problem and she was working on it. It was a daily struggle for her. Jess didn’t have an excuse beyond possessing a Y-chromosome.
Even Flynn, Dev’s stepfather, fought and struggled against a similar weakness. Lindsay didn’t know exactly what was wrong with Flynn, he wouldn’t talk to her when she reached out to him, but she recognized the signs. It was too bad Dev wouldn’t understand and give him a break. His mother did before she died. Lindsay was betting it’d be years yet before Dev made the connection between her condition and Flynn’s and understand his stepfather enough to forgive him.
Don’t worry, Flynn, I’ll give you and hand,
Lindsay promised quietly for Dev’s sake. She hated to see families torn apart by one stubborn twenty-year-old, even if that twenty-year-old was hers.
The traffic slowed and Lindsay frowned at the delay. She left early in anticipation more than necessity, so this wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t as though getting to the airport was going to make Dev get home any faster, she was just anxious. For the first time he gave
his flight information instead of his little sister – and therefore stepfather, or the guys. They knew he was coming of course, but Dev was trusting
to pick him up. She got to see him first for a change. Lindsay wondered what the odds were of luring him into his room for a game of ‘Simon Says.’
She smiled at the memory and let her mind wander as traffic slowed still further. It was only a couple of months ago that she finally got through to Dev it wasn’t that she
intimacy with him so much as she
it. Lindsay didn’t have the heart to tell him how many times she’d slipped in the three years they’d been together. He didn’t ask and didn’t want to know.
In Chicago, he finally got it. She didn’t mean to push him as far as she did, but it worked. Lindsay still felt twinges of guilt about it. And Kenny still gave her seething glares whenever they crossed paths. He’d better knock that off before Dev got home. But in that single blissful week of spring break, she and Dev got a lot accomplished. They only left the hotel a few times. When they did, Dev spent a lot of time on his phone’s browser doing research. Lindsay appreciated the effort, but she kept telling him she’d tell him what to do.
For years, Dev didn’t understand telling Lindsay he loved her and sending flowers wasn’t enough to really make her
loved. Similarly, even the most precise verbal instructions weren’t enough for him when it came to sex. Thankfully, Lindsay learned her lesson in mere days.
Lindsay remembered the incident fondly as she came almost to a complete stop on the freeway. At this rate she’d never get to the airport. Although she could see the problem: an accident, and it wasn’t too far ahead. Traffic was moving, just slowly.
“You’re always going to win. I said it and I meant it, Lin. But I have no idea what I’m doing,” Dev had said with a sigh. Lindsay smiled softly when she remembered the sweet expression on his face as he caved to her yet again.
“I propose a ‘Simon Says’ sort of scenario where you give me direction,” he kissed her, “and I do what I’m told.”
“So you’ll be my love slave?”
“Baby, I already am.”
“That’s a great place to start.” Dev smiled and tenderly kissed her. Lindsay let it go on for a while before breaking away.
“Simon says lower,” she said.
Dev moved down to her neck, he’d been there before and excelled at his work in the region. Lindsay enjoyed the attention before returning to his education.
She smiled at Dev’s shift to her shoulder then collar bone instead of skipping just to her breasts like most men did in her experience. Her boyfriend and his attention to detail.
Breasts. She let him play with those for a while and he did a great job.
Dev chuckled softly and slid down her body, kissing the mid-line to her belly button. That was interesting, Lindsay considered his actions. He dipped his tongue into her belly button and swirled slowly as he pulled it back out, like a reverse blow job. It also reminded her of the suggestive way she nibbled his ear back when she was still trying to seduce him. It made her hot!
“Lower,” Lindsay said, her voice gravelly with need.
“I’m loving your belly button actually. It’s not an inny, it’s not an outy, it’s just flat. A dimple. Perfect.”
“And you’ve played with it enough. Lower. Simon says.”
“We didn’t discuss forfeits.” Dev continued teasing her relentlessly. She was on the verge of writhing. This wasn’t good. Actually it
good, it was very good. Except
was supposed to be teaching
so they’d have to revisit his mad belly button skills.
“Devin, you don’t get to forfeit. You’re learning new things, be brave. Lower.”
He hesitated, then Lindsay felt him take a breath and nod. “Right. I can do this.”
“I know you can. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.”
Dev kissed a trail down Lindsey’s stomach from her belly button to her mound. Lindsay came to Chicago expecting to give Dev a blow job, but hoping for more so her Brazilian was freshly touched up. Dev was enthralled when he discovered how smooth she was. She hoped for a repeat of that reaction now.
“Can I hop online really quick?”
“Use your fingers and spread the lips.”
Lindsay smiled as Dev delicately did as directed. He kissed the sides of her labia, almost her thighs actually, and she had to suppress her laughter at his timid approach.
“Okay, honey, up at the top is the clit. Find it,” she directed and waited. And waited. He searched, she could tell he was looking. “Higher.”
“You’re really lost, aren’t you?” Lindsay asked gently.
“It kind of reminds me of an art exhibit I went to once,” Dev admitted.
Lindsay propped herself up on her elbows and stared at him. “Mood’s over. Who took you to an art exhibit featuring female genitalia?” The idea that it was Erika Atlas as part of their fake dating scheme crossed her mind, but she didn’t say it. It would have made headlines.
Dev’s eyes focused on her behind his lashes, leaving most of his face hidden between her legs. His eyes were gorgeous and the overall sight was – while not exactly innocent, it was just adorable. She had him right where she wanted him.
“Doesn’t matter,” Dev tried to shrug it off. “On this, can I just check something?” Without taking his eyes off her, he reached for the pile of clothes beside her on the bed and pulled his pants toward him. He pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Lindsay plucked the phone from his fingers and put it back on the bed.
“Please?” Dev whispered.
Lindsay was furious. She was beyond explaining to him just how inappropriate it was that he ... then she stopped to consider just who it was she was dating. Lindsay loved Dev because he wasn’t normal. He was a shy, awkward geek. It was the rest of the world’s problem that he could play the guitar, sing, and happened to be adorable so all the other girls fell in love with him too.
He finally listened to her about how to tell her he loved her. She had to listen to him about how
needed to learn to do these things.
With a sigh, Lindsay handed him back his phone and lay back on the bed. Given access to his preferred choice of learning medium, it didn’t take Dev long to figure it out.
Lindsay reflected on the memory as she passed the accident and cleared the traffic jam. She’d spent the time since spring break creating a website for Dev. When she asked him to host it, he agreed, but he was nervous about it. She somehow convinced him it was therapy. Maybe. At the beginning anyway. Lindsay was pretty sure he wasn’t buying that anymore.
Nellie the Nympho
site was all about positions and techniques. Lindsay put everything she knew online. Then she discovered the others in her sex addiction support group were eager to offer up their experiences and tips.
Her visitor counter exploded. Dev noticed and looked at what she was doing before she had a chance to properly prepare him. He called her with what she might conservatively call
“It’s a porn site!”
“No it’s not. There aren’t any pictures. I ran it by Becky. You know how rabidly anti-porn she is,” Lindsay told him.
“There are drawings and animations. Lindsay, there are cartoons doing – I can’t even describe what they’re doing,” Dev said. She heard the distress in his voice, it sounded like he was online at that moment.
“Well, there’s a title of the position at the top and a number of the page at the bottom right. Give me either one and I’ll tell you what they’re doing,” Lindsay suggested.
“Okay, listen. What exactly is bothering you?”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. Is it the information? The animation? What? What
do I need to change?”
She heard him sit. “Why do you need to do this at all?”
“Because you reached for your cell phone when you needed help with cunnilingus. If you need a resource besides me talking you through it, I’m going to make sure you have it. I don’t suppose you want to give me the website you –”
Lindsay sighed. She didn’t think so. “All right. So talk to me.”
Lindsay scrambled to get her mind back on driving when she realized she was nearing SeaTac International Airport and she was in the wrong lane. Traffic had picked up again while she was daydreaming, and she nearly rear-ended the car in front of her when she took too long checking her blind spot. Slamming on her brakes to avoid the collision resulted in an angry horn behind her as she was nearly rear-ended herself. Meanwhile, she lost her small opening, and now had to start over trying to change lanes in the congested traffic.
Fighting tears of frustration, Lindsay finally fought her way through the traffic and into the even worse traffic of the airport. She didn’t realize she had to enter the parking garage before reaching the terminals and had to loop around to try again. The generous window she left herself to get to the airport was gone. Dev’s flight would land in about ten minutes. Granted he didn’t expect her to meet him at the gate. Actually he told her not to even try. She was supposed to meet him by the luggage carousel. But still ...
Lindsay parked farther away from the skywalk than she would have liked and made her way into the airport. At least she wore low-heeled sandals instead of something sexy. Open-toed and a fresh pedicure was as daring as she was willing to risk on this particular venture.
The baggage carousels came into view faster than she expected. Lindsay paused and pulled her phone from her purse, hearing it beep as she did so. Dev apparently landed, turned his phone back on, and sent her a text. Smiling, she sent him back a little heart.
Checking her earlier messages, she found the flight information and compared it to the board. Lindsay found the carousel she’d theoretically meet him at and sent him a message so he’d know. Then she found a map, figured out where Dev would be coming from, and planned an ambush.