the way down onto him and flexing his own up into me.
I watch his face as it contorts into a full pleasure mask as if he’s found the holy grail in my pussy. Those blazing blue eyes flash open, homing in on me as the last of his climax subsides.
We’re left breathless and sweating, with the rest of the world shut out past those steam fogged windows.
In all my life, I’ve never had a more singularly erotic moment. And this is after we’ve already had sex.
Something in my heart flips over like a surrender and scares the living shit out of me.
“Well,” I try to say casually while climbing off his lap. “Now I have to go back to the high school to teach children to wait for sex until they’re in love.”
Forrest snorts as he tucks himself into his jeans and pulls the zipper up, not even bothering to clean up. It’s so contradictory of his neat and orderly persona that it makes it doubly as dirty hot as I originally thought it was.
“Make sure to also tell them that the pull out method works every time. Oh, and that using birth control is against God’s plan for them. You know, all those great sex tips that make a lot of fucking sense.”
I hold my laughter until I’m in my own car, driving back to work. Because really, Forrest Nash is funny as hell.
But I’ll never let him know I think so.
13
Forrest
We don’t see each other after our tight squeeze in my car for about a week, due to Penelope’s hectic schedule.
I didn’t consider how truly often she wouldn’t be able to meet up, as evidenced by the two offers for sex that were shut down due to one of the boy’s homework issue or a tripped fire alarm that wouldn’t go off until Bowen came out and fixed it.
But aside from the inconvenience in scheduling that prevented from getting laid three times a week like I’d prefer—we still usually managed two—our situation was a dream. I didn’t have to small talk or take her out on dates, and there was no need for calling or texting to check in. Penelope didn’t want flowers or poems, just a good banging and a wave goodbye.
The new agreement fits into my life perfectly. I got to work my all-hours of the night schedule, do as I pleased with my days, answered to no one, and still got a fantastic few rounds of fucking in per week.
Besides the blip in our schedule, that very first time, with her son’s sickness, Penelope didn’t miss a meet up and I didn’t have to pretend to care about her home life.
So when I meet up with my brothers and their wives at the Goat for a drink on Saturday night, I’m surprised at two things. One, that my brother Fletcher came along for this night out, considering he rarely steps foot in his old drinking hole as a now sober man. And, that Penelope wasn’t cackling into her vodka martini after offending Lily with some sexual remark.
Keaton, Presley, Bowen, Lily, and Fletcher all sit around one of the high-top tables, and I wave to Gerry behind the bar as I stroll into his establishment. It’s the only place to grab late-night alcohol in Fawn Hill, aside from the farm fields we used to drag kegs out to as teenagers.
“Always the last one to arrive.” Bowen huffs in annoyance at me as I pull up a barstool.
“I have to make a fashionably late entrance, or who else would you guys look to for the cool factor,” I jab back.
Fletcher snorts, and I see he’s nursing a soda water with lime. “Out of the four of us, I’d say you’re the least cool. You live in your little virtual reality world all day with your Dr. Who theories and Call of Duty cheat codes.”
“You wish you knew what I knew about video games. It’s why I always beat you.” I stick my tongue out at my twin like I’m five.
I shout across the bar to Gerry that I’ll have a bottle of the local IPA on tap and he gives me his gruff gaze but nods.
“Well, who made varsity first?” Fletcher spits back, his jesting smile letting me know he’s ready to verbally scrap all night.
“Enough.” Presley rolls her eyes. “If I have to listen to one more victory tour by the Nash men, I’ll claw my ears off. We get it, you’re the pride of Fawn