Ripped - Cassia Leo Page 0,19

her eyes as my tongue draws a long, slow line from her entrance to her clit. “This is my house,” I say, then I plant a soft kiss on her swollen lips. “This is my pussy.” I curl my finger inside her and she gasps as I press down on her G-spot. “I will do whatever the fuck I want.”

I close my lips over her clit and suck gently, watching her as she pants heavily, unable to control the volume of her pleasure.

I ease off just as her hips begin to tremble in my firm grasp. “I want the whole world to hear you scream,” I continue, drawing a slow circle around her pleasure spot with the tip of my tongue.

She clutches my hair, holding on for dear life as her thighs quake uncontrollably. “I’m coming. I’m coming. Oh, my fucking God. I’m coming.”

I continue licking her until she begs me to stop, then I lick her trembling, needy pussy clean because I can’t get enough of her sweet taste, her heady smell. Wrapping my arms tightly around her thighs to keep her from collapsing, I kiss my way up to her belly, then I look up at her and smile.

“Bend over the bed. I’m going to fuck the shit out of you right now.”

She laughs as she runs her fingers through my hair, sending a shiver over my skin. “You’re dripping,” she whispers, brushing the pad of her thumb over my chin.

I lick her clit again and she gasps. “What if we just jump out the bedroom window, bounce off the top of the bouncy castle, and plop down into my convertible? Then I’ll take you for a ride on my surfboard.”

She smiles as she nods toward the bed. “I can take a ride on your board right there.”

I smile as I stand up and she yelps as I scoop her up in my arms. “Surf’s up, baby.”

Twenty minutes later, we emerge from the bedroom, bright-eyed and cheeks flushed pink with the glow of hot sex. If Lillian and Michael don’t know what we were doing upstairs, if they can’t smell it on us, then they’re sorely out of touch with reality. Thankfully, if they do suspect anything, they keep their suspicions to themselves. And we find that one of Kaia’s friends and Yuri and Lena have arrived early.

Yuri raises an eyebrow when he sees me dipping a potato chip in the onion dip. “You look awfully chipper. Any particular reason?”

I try not to look at Lena as my mouth curves into a smile. “Nope, just feeling on top of the world right now.”

Lillian pats my back on the way to the fridge. “You should be, Mr. Number One Surfer in the World.”

Lindsay and I look at each other and I try not to laugh as I imagine her riding my “board” just a few minutes ago.

“Lil, you already know this, but Lindsay’s a great surfer, too,” I remark, dumping the rest of the bag of chips into a serving bowl.

Lindsay narrows her eyes at me and Yuri nods as he catches our exchange.

He turns to Lena. “I highly doubt Lindsay’s as good a surfer as Lena. Right, babycakes?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

She rolls her eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that. It’s creepy.”

“Whatever you say, snookums.”

Once all the guests have arrived, and all the food and cake has been eaten, and all the children have bounced away their excess energy, it’s time for Lindsay and me to perform an episode of Charmed Life. I pull her into the downstairs bathroom to go over the lines we rehearsed while she was “waxing my board” earlier.

I’m dressed in a pair of Lindsay’s leggings, which are so tight around my junk that they’re cutting a major wedgie through my asscrack. And just like Grayson’s love interest, Annie, I’m wearing a ginger wig and Pokémon T-shirt, tied at the side of my waist, which I found online last week. I don’t know why kids these days think it’s ironic to wear ’90s fashion when they weren’t even alive back then.

Meanwhile, Lindsay has pulled her hair back into a bun at the base of her neck and she’s wearing one of my gray Gucci blazers, with the sleeves rolled up because they’re way too long on her. She even packed a couple of backpacks with school supplies for us to carry, just like Grayson and Annie. And she went to the trouble of painting a mustache on herself