Baewatch - Xavier Neal Page 0,19
tease on a heated groan, leading us further in the living room.
“Will he mind me being here?”
“Doubtful.”
Truth is, I’m not entirely sure.
Hooking up at my place is a rarity.
I’m not opposed to women coming over, it just feels more comfortable and like they have more control when it happens at their place. On their terms. It’s not a tide I need to swim against, so I don’t.
“Good,” Brooklyn states at the same time she pulls her head through the neck of her dress revealing an amazing rack ready to be freed from a black strapless bra. “Because I’m hoping to stay at least until morning.”
Groans both greedy and possessive fester in the back of my throat prior to me proclaiming, “You should make that lunch.”
Our bodies gravitate back together, open mouths overly anxious to exchange new swipes. The twisting and tangling of our tongues are done in tandem with the clawing and pawing of our clothes. Her purse is dropped in the process, and the thud causes my cock to thump in anticipation of its pending freedom. My shirt is sacrificed next only to be proceeded seconds later by our shoes. Growls grow exponentially louder when her hand eagerly caresses the cut edges of my abs, and I do my best to fight against my hooded stare to follow her finger. It teasingly trails to the left and right, snaking its way to the rim of my board shorts, enslaving my attention, and stealing my ability to breathe.
I leak an impatient moan and lunge forward with one very clear goal in mind.
The unexpected sound of my front door opening followed by the unpredicted sight of my brother and his displeased wife rip an irritated roar right out of me. “Wh-”
“Whoa!” Harrison hisses and rushes to shield his eyes. “Why are you doing whatever it is you’re doing in the living room?!”
Brooklyn’s voice faintly starts, “Who-”
“For crying out loud, Scott, why aren’t you doing that in your bedroom?!” April scolds like I’m an out of control teenager instead of a grown-ass man in his own home.
Houndrix howls his two cents; however, it’s hard to tell if he’s in agreement with them or trying to defend me.
“Who the fuck is Scott?!” Brooklyn squeaks in outrage while rushing to re-cover her chest.
“I-”
“You didn’t even tell her your name?” Harrison judges while shutting the door behind him.
“I-”
“What’d you do? Just tell her to call you counselor to keep it more anonymous?”
“Counselor?!” my date croaks at a new volume.
“Did you at least tell her your age this time?” April continues to unnecessarily parent.
“Is that something you don’t typically do?” Brooklyn briefly pauses to shove her dress back into place. “Do you keep that a secret or something? You know like your actual profession and apparently your name!”
“I-”
“Your housekeeper?!” April scoffs when she catches her first full glimpse of Brooklyn. “You know you shouldn’t be sleeping with the help.”
“The help?!” my dates sharply bites as she snatches up her clutch from where it was abandoned on the floor. “Did she really just fucking call me the help?”
I race to defend her yet am somehow cut off once more.
“She meant employee, I’m sure,” Harrison poorly tries to cover for his wife. “He shouldn’t be having relations of any kind with someone who works for him at the office or at home.”
“Is that not what I said?” His wife screeches.
Another attempt is made by me to seize the conversation. “She’s not-”
“Why exactly are you just assuming I work for him?” She grunts and angrily slams her foot back into her shoe.
My brother takes the initiative to answer, “Because the only types of women Scott hooks up with are…for lack of a better term-”
“Don’t-”
“-beach trash.”
“It’s like trailer trash but specifically for the beaches,” April needlessly explains. “And most beach trash we’ve seen him with is tan, teeny, and just barely on this other side of twenty-one.”
“Wow,” Brooklyn croaks out in such a way it’s hard to deny the pain it creates in my chest. “Okay.” She promptly nods and tosses me a disgusted glare. “I’m gonna go.”
I quickly reach out for her despite the fact I have no idea where to begin or any idea of what to say, “Brooklyn-”
“No.” Her body effortlessly maneuvers away from my potential grasp. “No, thank you. I’ve had more than enough of,” she motions her finger in a loop to encompass the family I’m currently not thrilled to call family and me, “whatever this was.” She gives me one last look during her