“Speaking of airports, how do you feel about Portland, Oregon? Nobody knows us there.” She laughed out loud, and he had to laugh. “You didn’t recognize me when I wore my knit cap,” he said.
“I must have been under the influence of those chocolate caramel ganache bars. I knew I’d seen you somewhere before. I just couldn’t figure out where.”
“What was the giveaway?”
“You took off the cap.”
“See? It’s foolproof. I’ll buy another one of those knit caps—”
“I’ll get some dark glasses and a wig or something.”
“That’s the spirit. I like where this is going.”
He touched his mouth to hers. She tasted like cake, and he couldn’t resist going back for more. Her lips parted in invitation as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He stroked her tongue with his. She half-rolled onto his chest.
“And your mom and dad are still upstairs,” she whispered.
“My mom has been known to get up in the middle of the night for a glass of water or to check on the kids. She has a tough time sleeping.”
He slid one hand under the hem of her sweater. Her office clothes concealed her curves, which was a crime against nature in his opinion. He breathed in another wave of green apple scent too. He was going to have a hell of a time visiting the produce section of any grocery store from now on. He had no idea before he met Kendall that the scent of green apples added to her clean, warm skin was going to be the most powerful aphrodisiac he’d encountered yet.
“She caught my brother and his wife red-handed on their living room couch a couple of years ago,” Drew said.
She let out a little gasp when his hand cupped her breast. He moved his thumb over her nipple, stroking slowly until he felt her arch into his hand.
“My parents went to their house for dinner, there was a storm, and my sister-in-law didn’t want them driving in such bad weather. Dad has a bad back. Sleeping on the couch is tough for him.” He was still slowly stroking her nipple, and he was losing his train of thought. Maybe the explanation wasn’t all that important after all.
He pushed the sweater up, scooped her breast out of her bra, and took her nipple into his mouth. “So your mom and dad slept in their room . . . oh, God, Drew,” she said. He suckled her, moving his tongue over the hardened flesh, and she let out another moan.
He reached up to unhook the bra. He blew softly on her nipple as he made short work of the lingerie. He lifted the bra and sweater off over her head, dropping them onto the family room floor. To his surprise, she reached out, took his ponytail in one hand, and slid the elastic band out of his hair. Her fingers moved through his hair seconds later.
“We’re probably getting interrupted, aren’t we?” she whispered as he took her nipple in his mouth again.
“Mmm hmm,” he said.
“I know I should care about that, but I’m not sure I do right now.”
Her breathing accelerated. She was still running her hands through his hair. A few seconds later, she pulled up the back of his sweater and whispered, “This needs to go.” He let go of her long enough to yank it off over his head. He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans while he was at it, and slid them down her hips as he moved down the couch, trailing his mouth over her abdomen. He could spend all day on her gently rounded belly.
“Your hair is . . . oh, God. It’s ticklish.” She squirmed a little. He shook his head a few more times over her as he licked and kissed his way to where he wanted to go as he pulled her pants off. “Drew!”
He wasn’t doing this well enough if she still made sense when she spoke. He wasn’t going to stop until there was nothing but heavy breathing and a little begging. Moans or screams would be acceptable too. The screaming would probably work out better for them if it happened behind a locked bedroom door. Noise would definitely bring his mom on the run.
The threat of discovery turned a fun little make-out session into something sexier than he’d experienced in years. He pushed her underwear aside, decided it wasn’t enough, looped one finger around the underwear and yanked them down her legs. She slipped one foot out and left them dangling off of the other.
“We’ll wreck your couch,” she gasped. “We need a blanket.”
He reached behind him and pulled the cotton throw he’d been using earlier off the back of the couch, rolled her onto him, and spread it over where she’d lay. It wasn’t perfect, but it would work. She settled onto the couch again and reached out for him.
“You’re still dressed,” she whispered as she sank her hands into his hair again. She wrapped her legs around him, grinding against his erection.