She lets out a girly sigh, staring dreamily into outer space. “He’s a total jackass. He’s rude and crude, and he dresses like a department store mannequin. He smells like—don’t take this the wrong way, Luca—but he smells like citrus and chocolate and balls.”
Luca is hanging on her every word. “Why would I take that the wrong way?”
Meenie explains that the new guy is way hotter than Luca. She then goes on to describe him, in detail. I get a really bad feeling from what she’s telling us, so I try to make it clear that she should take her therapist’s advice to stay away.
“I disagree,” Luca says, then he goes on to talk about fate and destiny. He doesn’t know my sister’s background, so he doesn’t know he’s throwing gas on the fire.
I try to focus on my letter tiles and words, letting them talk. My sister has a defiant personality, so if I put my foot down and come out against the guy, she’ll only want him more.
Neither of them is trying to play the Scrabble board strategically, so I beat them easily. Meenie gets all cranky and tosses the board on the floor “by accident.”
When she’s in the washroom, I whisper to Luca, “She’s a sore loser. Sorry I didn’t warn you about that.”
“It must have been fun growing up with a sister,” he says.
“You can have her.”
“When we get married, she’ll be my sister.”
The wine has made my ears not work as well, but he definitely just mentioned marriage. It was in the abstract, but still. Wow, this guy moves fast.
“My family is all yours,” I tell him.
Grinning he pulls me in for a kiss.
We’re interrupted by Meenie, stomping through on her way to the front door. “At least wait until I’m out of the house!” she says, pretending to be scandalized.
“I love you, sis!” I call after her.
She blows me a kiss and stumbles out drunkenly.
As soon as she’s gone, I jump up and zip around the place closing all the blinds. I turn off all the lights, except for the small one in the kitchen, which will cast enough of a glow to keep us from bumping into things.
Luca tosses the cushions off the sofa like he’s trashing a hotel room to find a suitcase of spy money. He folds out the bed, strips, and climbs on, completely naked except for his cast. Even in the dim light, I can see the tension in his body as he watches me, anticipating my touch.
“Bed time at last,” I say, walking toward him and undressing, taking my time.
His eyes stay on me, drinking me in as I slowly take off my clothes and then my underwear. He looks at me like I’m perfect, and that appreciation is even more intoxicating than the wine.
I climb onto the foot of the bed, moving like a wild jungle cat after her prey. He isn’t asking me to do that special thing, which only makes me want to do it more.
Being mindful of his injured foot, I slowly kiss my way up along the tops of his thighs. I smell his musky skin between his legs, letting his scent further infuse me with lust.
With a feather-light touch, I slide my naked body up along his. I gently kiss, lick, and bite my way up his chest to his neck. He moans with urgency as I nibble his earlobe.
I slide back down again, dragging my body over his until I’m settled between his legs. I nibble the skin at his hip bones, then move toward his center.
“Oh my, what’s this?” I coo, acting like I’ve never seen such a thing.
“I don’t know,” Luca says, playing along. “The cast on my foot must be doing something to my circulation and causing swelling over here, in this general area. Honestly, it’s never done that before.”
I drag the tip of my tongue along his length. I hear his breath catch in his throat as I reach the tip and circle around.
“It’s all swollen and hard,” I say, smacking my lips.
“That's quite the sound,” he growls.
“You mean this?” I lick my lips and smack them noisily.
He lets out a low, lusty groan. I smack my lips a few more times, in between licking him and taking him into my mouth.
We don’t have any music playing or noisy distractions, because this is the special thing he likes: lip-smacking noises while I administer First Aid to his swollen appendage.
As far as kinks go, this is definitely something I can work with.
I keep at it, feeling his tension build until he’s like a volcano.
When he can’t hold back any more, he reaches down, grabs my shoulders, and pulls me up. We kiss while he grabs one of the condoms we keep in a hidden pocket inside a pillow and hands it to me.
I’m getting better at this task, thanks to plenty of practice. I know how to wrangle the shark into the Ziploc bag, so to speak. The key is checking that it’s not upside-down.