to her temple. “That’s it, Princess. Ride my fingers.” She was letting herself go, so un-self-conscious, and it was beautiful. “This is the girl I’ve been missing. The one who comes hard for me.”
Her breath broke on a sob and he angled his hand, so a finger pressed against her clit, rubbing and swirling and pinching until she was done for. She pulsed against his hand, her cries echoing throughout the kitchen. And he smiled as his princess came apart.
Every instinct in him screamed to unzip his jeans, to relieve this pressure in his balls and take her right then, right there in Ethan’s kitchen.
And that was the problem. This was Ethan’s house. This was Ethan’s sister. And there he was, with a bare-assed Chloe, his hand still buried inside of her, while she caught her breath from the orgasm he’d just wrung out of her, little whimpers escaping her throat.
God, what was it about her? He was fucking addicted to her body, to the sounds she made when she came, to the look in her eyes when she was aroused. But if Ethan ever found out…
“Chloe, we need to talk,” he said in her ear.
And just like that, her body stiffened. She took a giant step to the side, so his fingers slipped from her. She pulled up her panties and shorts, and ran her hands through her hair. She was shaking, her whole body trembling. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to get back to when she was putty in his hands.
“Chloe—”
“You need to go before Ethan gets home.” She’d picked up her sponge and was back to scrubbing the countertops. Completely ignoring him like he hadn’t just had a part of his body inside of hers.
“Chloe, Jesus Christ. We have to talk about this. I mean, we both wanted that, and it happened, and I don’t see why it can’t happen again—”
She whirled to face him, green eyes terrified. “No. No, it can’t happen again.”
He stared at her. “Uh, well you said that last time and here we are, in post-orgasmic-fucking-bliss. Well, at least one of us.”
At least a glimmer of sympathy flitted across her face as her gaze flicked to the front of his pants. “Look, I—”
The front door opened, effectively freezing them both.
“Grant? Chloe?” Ethan called.
Chloe’s eyes were huge, and all Grant could do was stand there, the smell of her still on his fingers. He was a grown-ass man and this was some teenage bullshit. “Guess Daddy’s home,” he muttered.
...
She’d gone insane. There was really no other rational explanation for why she’d let Grant spank her and finger-bang her in Ethan’s kitchen.
No, let wasn’t the right word. God, she’d asked for it, begged for it.
Damn Grant, with his perfect hair and beautiful eyes and talented fingers. Damn him. He’d known exactly what she’d needed to let go, to give in to her body’s cravings. He gave her a role and she’d slipped right into it. She’d always had a bad maid fantasy. She had a lot of fantasies like that, but hell if she’d ever acted one out. This fantasy now could have used a better outfit, and a feather duster. Maybe one of those little caps? That would have really done the fantasy justice. She had to wing it a little without her props.
Now here she stood, the skin between her legs wet, a hollow feeling where Grant’s fingers had been, and the sound of her brother’s footsteps getting closer.
Grant was tense, the bulge in his pants less now, but he was surely still uncomfortable.
Ethan walked into the kitchen, frowning when he spotted them. “Chloe, I told you that you didn’t have to clean. I have a housekeeper.”
She nearly swallowed her tongue.
Ethan dropped a bag of groceries on the counter and turned to Grant, raising his eyebrows. “What are you doing here? I saw your car outside.”
Grant shrugged, shoving his hands in his jeans. “Just wanted to say hi.”
Chloe decided that was her cue to leave. She’d come over that morning, unwilling to sit in her apartment by herself because she couldn’t get Grant out of her head. And all that did was lead her right into his hands. His very capable hands.
She dropped the sponge in the sink and grabbed her iPod off the counter. “Well, uh, I’ll leave you two then.”
She walked by Ethan, who protested. “You don’t have to leave—”
“I have some errands to run,” she lied. “Have a great Saturday.” She dropped a kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks