Skin Tight (Skin Deep #4)

Skin Tight (Skin Deep #4) Page 24

He roared his release, his whole body bucking and juddering beneath me, his cock swelling and jerking as he buried it deep inside me. My sex clenched around him, milking him as I ground my hips down, wringing every last drop of pleasure from him until I collapsed against his chest, both of us breathing like we’d just run a marathon.

Finally, after a long moment, I roused myself enough to unclench my fingers from the back of the couch, groaning as I straightened them.

“Ow…” I grumbled, then glared up at Ian as he chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath my cheek.

“It’s your fault,” he said, smirking down at me.

I didn’t reply, choosing instead to bask in the afterglow of my orgasm. I cuddled closer to him and he wrapped his arms around me tighter, his cheek resting on the top of my head.

“I love you,” he said, softly.

I closed my eyes. “I love you, more,” I whispered back before I sighed and shifted, lifting up off of him. I shivered as I felt him slip out of me and smiled at his soft groan, leaning down to kiss him once more before going to clean up.

It’d been a month and a half since the last incident with Icktoria (Chloe came up with the new name) and, hopefully, she’d gotten the message, because we hadn’t heard anything from her. Does that mean that I breathe easy thinking that it would never happen again? Hell, no!

We’d gotten the window replaced and put a lock on the gate, plus we’d had an updated alarm system installed. I’d replaced my clothes and underwear that she’d damaged, and yes, we had a bonfire with some hellaciously expensive luggage that would probably make some people weep and question our sanity.

In fact, most of the guys had been on fire and baby duty that night, being the gracious husbands/fiancés/boyfriends they are, and we women had gotten gloriously wasted on Ice Wine, champagne, and sangria. Even Nanny had attended and had sipped a finger’s worth of champagne (she’s not supposed to be drinking), claiming that as the reason she took off her bra (underneath her shirt, thank God) and whirled it around her head as she danced around the fire.

What’s worse? My mom and Allie’s mom joined in.

So we couldn’t be left out, right? And there may or may not be a video swimming around a phone somewhere that I just know is gonna end up on YouTube. My brother’s a dick sometimes. A funny one, but one nonetheless, and he lives to torture us. Add in the chance to torture our Mom? It’s inevitable. I just thank God that Calland was nice to me at my graduation party. He almost didn’t live to see the end of Emma’s…poor girl. But still, that video is going to come back to haunt us…

Ian walked into the bathroom while I was getting in the shower, breaking me free from my thoughts. I couldn’t help the thrill that shot through me at the sight of his naked body, impressive in all ways, even when things were…let’s just say sleeping.

“You okay? You were taking forever,” he said, conversationally, as he opened up the shower door and pushed me back, stepping into the enclosure with me.

I quirked my eyebrow at him and reached for the shampoo.

He took it from me, squirted some in his palm, and then spun me around before sinking his fingers into my hair, gently massaging my head as he worked up a lather. I moaned and let my head fall back, giving myself over to his ministrations.

“So, do we have plans today?” he continued speaking, rinsing my hair carefully under the spray and moving on to conditioner.

“Umm…” I mumbled, unable to think right then. “I don’t think so…”

He rinsed my hair once more, and when he was done, I leaned back into him, feeling that not-so-sleepy-anymore part of him prodding my back. “You’re poking me,” I grumbled, playfully, still keeping my eyes closed and my head tipped back.

He muttered something under his breath that I didn’t catch, but when I turned my head to look at him, he just gave me an innocent look and reached for my bodywash and loofah, sudsing it up to the max.

“What’d you say?” I asked him sweetly.

He shook his head and smiled to himself as he bent to his current task, which was cleaning my body thoroughly. And by thoroughly, I meant that ten seconds into it, he abandoned the loofah and just slid his soapy hands all over my skin, teasing, tickling, and cleaning at the same time. He paid special attention to my nipples, rolling and pinching them with his fingers and then palming my breasts and massaging them until I was moaning against him again.

I arched my hips back, rubbing myself against his cock, which made his hands clench on my breasts, squeezing them almost painfully.

“Oh!” I gasped, arching even more into his hands, then staggered when he spun me quickly until we were facing each other. He caught me against his chest and his hands slid down to grasp my hips, lifting and opening my legs so that I was held in his arms, my back against the shower wall, his hardened length nestled right where I wanted it most.

He pressed himself forward, the tip of him barely parting the moist folds at the apex of my thighs, then slid back and forth, bumping against my clit over and over again until I was panting and shuddering against him.

I squirmed, trying to slide him inside me when he glided back toward my entrance once more. “Ian!” I groaned. “Please, now…” I begged him.

With no further hesitation, Ian slammed himself high inside me, pressing me fully back against the wall. He dragged his cock out of me slowly and then thrust back in, quickly setting a pounding rhythm that had me screaming out with release in seconds, and he wasn’t far behind.

When we were finished, he let me slide slowly down his body, both of us winded but more than satiated since we’d essentially fucked the morning away.

But I wasn’t complaining!

“Trick or treat!” my sister yelled, waving like a madwoman as she walked up the sidewalk in front of my house, pushing Everly in front of her in the stroller.

“Oh my God!” I cried, clapping my hands together in delight. “She looks so cute!” I moved out onto the sidewalk and unclipped her from the straps holding her in and hefted her into my arms.

Emma had dressed the baby up as a little ladybug, complete with a red and black polka-dotted tutu. Emma herself was dressed in an all pink sweatsuit, and a tennis shoe was strapped to her head.

I kissed Everly’s cheek and asked her, “And just what the heck is your Mommy tonight, huh?” She giggled and smacked my cheek before pointing at her mom.

Emma raised her eyebrow and twirled. “Really? You can’t tell what I am?”

“Uh, no,” I answered, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”

“I’m bubble gum on the bottom of a shoe!” she crowed, grinning widely.

“Aaaaahhh…” I said, nodding my head slowly. “I see now. Where’s the rest of the group?” I asked her, looking down the driveway.

“They’re coming. I just got a little ahead,” she mumbled guiltily.

It was Trick or Treat night in Phillus and Emma, Allie, and Jenna had banded together to make the rounds with the kids, not only to make sure the family got to see the kids in their adorable costumes, but to maximize the amount of candy they’d get to confiscate. Lucky for me, Jarrod and I have a deal worked out. He’s not a fan of Kit Kat bars and I love them, so every year at Halloween, I trade him a small bag of Reese cups for his Kit Kats. It’s a win-win situate that has served me well for the past couple of years, provided I get to his bag before Jenna does. She likes Kit Kats, too.