"I didn't even know we were negotiating."
"And whose problem is that?" She reaches down to my jeans, unbuckles them, and pulls my pants off with a little assistance from me, leaving me in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.
She pouts for a second and says, "I thought you would be wearing those grandpa panties I like so much."
She straddles my lap and presses her hands against my chest while her hips start to slowly move over my erection. Fuck yes, that feels good.
"They're not grandpa panties. They're just regular briefs."
"Yes, they are. They're gramp-ties."
"Is this your idea of foreplay?"
She rubs her thong-clad ass over my lap. "I don't know, you tell me. Seems like it's working."
"Only because you look so fucking hot."
"You like this outfit?" She continues to maneuver on my lap, my cock hard as a fucking rock, and I'm certainly enjoying the view.
"If that's what you want to call it." I nod at her chest. "Take your bra off, babe."
A wicked smile appears across her face. "Make me."
"You really want to play that game? You know I'm significantly bigger than you, right?"
"Size means nothing."
I thrust up into her, causing a little moan to pop out of her mouth. "It should matter."
Her hands fall to my chest as she braces herself against me. "Maybe it does a little."
I reach behind her and pop off her bra, watching it fall down her shoulders and exposing her gorgeous breasts. Wasting no time, I bring her chest forward and lower my head so I can suck one of her nipples into my mouth.
"God, yes," she moans.
God, yes is fucking right. Everything about her is so damn right. Every. Fucking. Time.
***
Slap.
"Ouch, that hurt." I shake my hand and then hold it to my chest.
Emma points her wooden spoon at me and says, "Stop eating all the croutons out of the salad or else there'll be none left for our guests."
There is a knock at the side door. I go to answer it as I say, "You can ask nicely; you don't have to go whacking me."
She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "I thought you liked a good whacking."
Fucking sassy woman.
I open the door to find Adalyn, Smalls, and Racer waiting to be let in. Emma cutely asked me the other night if we could have a little dinner party to break in the new dining room table and honestly, I can't deny that woman anything, so I agreed. And it didn't seem like that bad of an idea, although I was nervous about Emma inviting Logan, but since she didn't mention his name on the attending guests list, I assumed she didn't ask him to come over. Smart move, because I don't know how long I could fake being nice to that douche.
"We're here," Racer says, shaking a bottle of wine in my face. "Wine is from me."
Smalls smacks Racer on the back of the head. "Wine's from me, asshat. Is that why you offered to carry it in?"
"Of course." Racer hands me the wine and then says, "We picked up this little lady in the driveway as well. I'm assuming she belongs to Emma, either that or we found a lurker and invited her to dinner."
"Hi, Adalyn. Glad you could come." I step aside for her to enter with the boys. I slug Racer in the shoulder as he passes and say, "Don't call Emma's friends lurkers."
Racer rubs his arm. "Damn, did everyone's sense of humor take a trip to the shit pit? Or are we supposed to act all proper because we're having a dinner party?"
"Little class, man," Smalls mumbles as we step into the kitchen. Emma and Adalyn are already hugging when I finish closing the door.
Adalyn pulls away and gestures to Smalls and Racer. "Going to be honest, I'll be staring at those two all night." She turns to the guys and continues, "Listen up, boys. I'm not going to be sad if you eat with your shirts off. Just a suggestion, take it or leave it."
Racer pats Smalls on the back. "Trust me, sweetheart, you don't want this guy taking his shirt off. His pancake nipples will scare you for weeks. I still have yet to put a flapjack in my mouth, too scared I might be eating Smalls's nipple." He nudges Smalls in the side with his elbow. "Talk about nipple confusion."
Smalls shakes his head. "You're fucking twisted, man." Smalls takes off into the dining and living area and from the kitchen you can hear him say, "Damn, it looks nice in here."
Emma nudges me with her elbow and kisses my jaw before turning back to the cheddar broccoli soup she's been working on. "Should be done soon. Table is set, Tucker, so if you want to pour that wine for everyone, that would be great."