Fix It Up - Mary Calmes Page 0,105
my arms and knocked him back against the door. “You have to go sing now.”
“No,” he whined, licking his lips, staring at mine. “I want it in bed now.”
I took his face in my hand, the one that was not covered in his semen. “Next time, I’ll eat my cum outta your ass. Sound good?”
He jolted and closed his eyes, swallowing hard, the muscles in his jaw cording.
“I dunno about me, but you taste really good,” I said, licking his spend off my fingers.
His eyes popped open, and he watched me like he was in a trance. When I felt his cock bump my thigh, I grinned and dropped to my knees, taking him down the back of my throat.
“Oh dear God,” he groaned as I sucked and laved, using my tongue and my teeth until his hands were in my hair, holding tight.
He used me hard and came a second time, dumping what little was left for me to swallow and then lick clean.
When I rose to my feet, grinning at him, he shoved me back and pointed to the bed.
“Lie down. I want your dick on my tongue and––”
“Nope,” I told him, shaking my head. “Pull up your pants and get out there.”
He had cum dripping down the inside of his thighs, but he stared into my eyes and pulled up his underwear and then his jeans, zipping and snapping and then fixing his belt.
“It’ll dry,” I teased him.
“Promise me when I’m done, you’ll get in bed with me and do that all over again.”
“Are you sure? Because I seem to recall you like to do the fuckin’.”
“It’s not fucking, and you know it.”
“I do,” I agreed, because how it felt, like a joining, like a fusion of two into one, him and me becoming us, that this was more than the act itself. Somewhere in our time together trust became faith, and I knew what he needed, and how I could be, and he knew the same about me. It was such a short time, not even four months, but still, the bond was there, solid and irrevocable. “What I meant to say was that I love you too, Nick.”
His eyes filled fast.
“No, no, that’s not hot.”
His arms opened, and he bit his lip, and I stepped into him and kissed him. His moan of happiness made me smile against his mouth.
He didn’t sit on the stool on the stage, and I coughed so I wouldn’t smile as he glared at me. I left him to walk back up to the house because I’d left my phone in the room, but when I reached the porch, Gwen was standing there looking like someone had just hit her.
“Gwen?”
She was looking out past her front gate, toward the two-lane road, and there was a car there, idling between the rows of parked cars on both sides.
I waited and the car moved, leaving two women there to make their way between two cars and up to the gate.
“Ah,” I said, because I wasn’t stupid. Nick’s sisters had finally arrived.
“They both look…” Gwen choked out, and turned to look at me for a moment and then back. “They’re the spitting image of their––”
“Neither one of them is her,” I soothed Gwen, climbing the steps to take her hand. “Those women are not your sister, no matter how bad you want them to be, and if either of them, or both of them, say something awful to you, I want you to remember that.”
She turned to me, and I saw the pain on her face.
“I’m bossy, because that’s my job,” I told her. “When I was a cop, it was even worse, so that’s where this is coming from, but really,” I said, grimacing, “you need to listen to me.”
“Yes,” she agreed under her breath.
“Deep breath in,” I told her.
She followed directions.
“And out.”
After the exhale, she looked a fraction better.
They were overdressed for an evening of home-cooked delicacies and a sing-along and people visiting and talking deep into the night. One was in a black short-sleeve top and rose-print floral skirt, with stilettos that sank into the grass as she reached the gate. She had on oversized sunglasses and was dripping in gold and diamonds; her hair, and what I could see of her makeup, was utterly perfect. The other woman, who she waited for before opening the gate, was in a tweed Chanel skirt suit with a Peter Pan collar and nude heels. Her hair, unlike her sister’s, which was up