A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,50
growl it made when he’d cruised into the parking lot that night at school. He’d graduated already, but he’d come back for the big game, and Sun’s world toppled all over again.
Lightning flashed bright and hot to reveal his heavy-lidded gaze as it slid over her. She sat straddled atop his lap and he pulled her down to him. Pressed her mouth to his. Pushed his fingers between her legs.
She’d never felt anything like it. Heat flooded her nether regions like a tidal wave of molten lava. It pooled in her abdomen and throbbed with a sensation so exquisite, she bit her lip to keep from gasping aloud. Then his hands were at the waistband of her jeans. The button. The zipper.
Cool air rushed over her when he peeled them off only to be replaced by the warmth of his palms. Long fingers spread her apart and pressed inside, and that familiar pressure formed in the distance. Each time he brushed his thumb over her clit, the pressure grew, coming closer and closer. He bent his head and drew a nipple into his mouth.
A knock sounded on the window. She tried to look, but he kissed her again. Pushed deeper. Rubbed faster. She sucked in his warm breath, and he laid her back on the seat, parting her legs with the expanse of his shoulders. Then his tongue, like liquid fire, slid over her clit. She grabbed handfuls of hair, unable to keep the climax from rocketing toward her.
The knock sounded again.
“Mom?”
Sun jerked awake and regretted it instantly. Pain exploded in her head, making her dizzy and nauseous. The bed dipped as her daughter sat beside her. Sun scooted back to give her more room, only to run into something beneath the covers. Something large and warm snored softly beside her, and since she didn’t own a dog, she could only guess who was still in her bed.
She fought the urge to slam a hand over her face. Instead, she fluffed up her bedspread to camouflage the lump, pried open her eyes, and looked up into the adorable, angelic face of her child.
“You’re going to be late for work,” Auri said, still in her pajamas. “But if you have a minute, can I talk to you?”
“Of course,” Sun croaked.
“When did you learn Klingon?” the child asked. Hilarious. Then she giggled and the sound burst inside the cavernous recesses of Sun’s mind like a claymore.
Sun raised a finger to her lips and patted the tiny creature’s face.
Auri giggled again. “Here.” She led Sun’s hand to something cool and round. A glass.
Sun pushed it away until she heard two plops and a fizz. God bless her.
“When will you learn not to mix red and white?” the little minx asked her.
“How do you know—”
“Can we talk girl to girl?”
Sun struggled onto an elbow and took a sip of the bubbly liquid. Then she remembered once again who was under the covers with her and the adrenaline rush churned her stomach.
She had to be cool. Maybe her one-and-only offspring couldn’t make out the huge lump in her bed. He was on his stomach, so he was semi-flat against the mattress.
“How did you know you were pregnant?”
Sun’s lids flew open and a loud gasp echoed in the room.
Auri laughed so hard she fell back on the bed beside Sun.
“Aurora Dawn,” Sun croaked. “You are evil.”
“Duh. I inherited my evil ways from you.” Then, as nonchalantly as if Auri were reaching over to pluck a grape off a vine, she lifted the covers and peered at Sun’s bedmate.
“Hi, Quincy,” she said.
Sun saw a set of long fingers wave from under the blanket. “Hey, bean sprout. This isn’t what it looks like.”
Auri tilted her head in doubt and leveled a calculating gaze on her mom. “I think now would be a good time to remind you what a great kid I am. And how I would never judge you for sleeping with your best friend.”
“I didn’t,” Sun said.
“We didn’t,” Quincy concurred.
“Mm-hm.” She leaned in, kissed Sun on the cheek, then bounced out, yelling back, “I get the first shower!”
Sun grabbed her head before it fell off, and sat up, horrified. “I’m going to kill her.”
“You can’t kill her for being a mini-Sunshine.”
She looked at the lump beside her. “That child is nothing like me. I would never have done something that evil to my mother.”
“Oh, please.” He rolled over and sat up. “Ninth grade. Chainsaw. Ketchup. A package of hot dogs.”