Meghan shook her head, an expression of distaste on her face. “Oh, yeah, I get that. Eww. Just even with her stuff still there ... yuck.”
“Which is a problem.” I sighed. “You’re living with Grandma, and I’m upstairs right next to Bridget’s room. I know I said the porch floor wasn’t an option the other night, but desperate times and all that. Maybe I could bring down a blanket.”
“Sam, relax.” She stood on her tip-toes and kissed me, just the barest of touches on my lips. “We’ll work it out. Ali and Bridge aren’t here all the time. Right now, for instance, we have an abundance of privacy.”
“Damn, that’s right.” I was mentally kicking myself. “All this time we were standing here talking about stupid stuff, and we could have been taking advantage of this opportunity. I could have you upstairs, naked on your back. Or ...” I smiled, thinking of the possibilities. “Maybe on your stomach, with your ass in the air.”
Meghan’s lips parted, and her eyes dilated. “I like the way you think.”
I was just about to grab her arm, drag her inside to my room and put my plan into action when I heard the sound of voices. I recognized my niece’s excited chatter and her mother’s answer.
“Shit!” I moaned the word and tugged Meghan close to me again. “We waited too long. Listen, the next time I’m about to miss a chance to make love to you because I’m talking too much, stop me. Tell me to shut up and get busy.”
She giggled. “Okay. Same goes, all right?” She made as though to slide away from me, and I caught her arm, lowering my head to nuzzle her neck.
“Porch tonight, after dinner. Yes?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” She rubbed her body against mine as I let go of her arm, and my whole body lit up when I felt her little grind over the bulge beneath my fly.
“You’re making me crazy.” I smacked her on that tempting little backside as she bent to retrieve the peaches, making her yelp in surprise.
“Good. It’s all part of the plan.” She winked and skirted around me, making sure to keep well out of my reach.
God, I couldn’t wait until after dinner.
“SHHH! YOU’RE MAKING THE chains squeak. Don’t wake up Ali and Bridge.”
I shifted in the swing, trying to keep quiet while I did so. But it wasn’t simple, since I was holding Meghan in my lap at the same time.
“This isn’t as easy as it looks.” I kept my voice to a whisper and lifted her hips to resettle on top of me. “Keeping the swing quiet when you’re one person is hard enough, but when you have a whole other person to balance—”
“Hey!” She leaned back away from me, her mouth turned down and her eyes dangerous. “What are you saying? I’m too heavy to sit on your lap? To be on the swing with you? Are you calling me fat?”
“God, no.” I’d lived with women long enough not to fall into that particular trap. “Why would you think that? I was just saying it’s a matter of finding my center of gravity.”
“Are you sure?” She still looked worried.
“Meghan, are you kidding me? You’re perfect. You can’t really think you’re heavy.”
She stuck out her lip. “My boobs are too big.”
“No such thing.” I hoped she picked up the fervent tone in my voice. “Babe, I fucking love your boobs.” I slid my hands up to demonstrate, lifting them together and then rubbing my palm over the stiff nipples. “If I tell you that the first time I saw you, passed out in your car, I noticed your—um, assets right away, will you get mad and call me a pig?”
Meghan shook her head. “Nope. I’d only ask why it took you so long to actually touch them.”
“Because I’m an idiot, remember?” I lowered my mouth and laved one nipple through her shirt and bra. She moaned a little, just under her breath.
In the ten days since we’d begun ... doing whatever this was, our after-dinner porch time had become the highlight of my day. Unfortunately, it also represented the only private time we’d had, since everyone’s schedules had conspired to keep one extra person at home any time Meghan and I were here together.
I was getting desperate. We’d managed to find some creative ways to get each other off during our porch make out sessions, but it wasn’t the same. By a long shot. I felt like a kid again, stuck with dates that ended in chaste goodnight kisses and blue balls.
Meghan slipped a hand between us, her fingers teasing my stiffened cock over my jeans. “If we were alone ...”
I groaned. It had become a game for us, to drive each other crazy by describing what we’d do if we were alone. She could get me hard just by whispering, “IWWA” when we were sitting at dinner or if she walked past me at the stand.