A Date With Fate (38 page)

I’d gone from never having sleepovers in years to waking up two days in a row next to the same man--this second time appearing to be a veritable pajama party.

Last I remembered was listening to the girls debating the perfect crime disposal method of a butchered body (namely Cheryl Crookston) while I was industriously licking chocolate frosting off my fingers. We were sprawled on the sofas after getting smoked out of the dining room. I had no desire to play poker last night and, after sitting restlessly for a few minutes with the boys, forced the girls to come with me into the living room. They wanted to protect me and keep me indoors; they could damn well follow where I lead.

We’d raided Reggie’s closet for T shirts to sleep in. The girls also borrowed boxers that I hoped were jokey gifts Reg had received. I didn’t want to think my brother would seriously wear a pair of undies that said, “Here pussy, pussy” across the front. My borrowed shirt hit my knees, so I skipped the boxers. We’d arranged pillows and blankets on the sofas. We found a fan to drown out the poker playing noise and cracked a window to get some fresh air. After arming ourselves with beers for Tre and Jazz, a hard cider for me, filling a bowl full of potato chips, and snagging the whole pan of black frosted brownies--we were ready for a slumber party.

I must have been more exhausted from all the fun events of the day than I realized. I didn’t move a muscle when Luke joined me on my makeshift bed. I missed knowing I was horizontal with him all night. I couldn’t believe he didn’t wake me up. Also, several people had to know he thought he had the right to sleep with me. That was part of the reason I wasn’t my usual chipper self.

Another reason was thinking over the text I’d received last night from Mike McClain. I had no idea what could be so important that he needed five minutes of my time. We’ve had no contact for years, so what could possibly be of any significance between us at this point? I wasn’t happy with the cryptic drama of his message, but I figured I’d hear him out if it didn’t inconvenience me. I didn’t want the man in my life, but I was way over any feelings for him other than indifference.

I was also ornery knowing I had to deal with Candy on my weekend off. I don’t go looking for confrontations, but I won’t back down from one either. She wasn’t getting away with stealing the gun from my apartment, fortuitous or not. She’d probably continue trying to avoid seeing me, yellow-bellied coward that she was, but I didn’t want to put it off. Since I wasn’t chasing her down; I had to orchestrate a meet. It made sense it would need to be at the family dinner tonight. She’d smugly think there was safety in such numbers, and that I’d be too busy being hostess with the mostest to get her.

This made me think about her hook-up at Luke’s last night. Again, not an enticing image anytime, but especially bad before the morning caffeine. Maybe I’d ask Luke to bring his weekend guest, John the Fuck-and-Runner, to liven things up tonight. I’d sic Jaz and Tre on him.

That thought alleviated a little of my crabbiness.

Then thinking about The Hammer possibly hunting me even as I lay here spiked the cranky levels back up again.

I carefully turned around in Luke’s arms and faced my sneaky prince. I propped up my head with my left arm and studied his sleeping form in the soft light from the lamp. Our blanket was pulled partially up to his waist, but one muscular leg stuck out over both of mine. He had on a T shirt and undecorated boxers. The white shirt was in stark contrast to his dark skin and the light trail of silky black chest hair revealed by the V neckline. I could see the brown, flat discs of his nipples clearly through the thin fabric. Even in repose, his biceps were cut with muscle. I clutched the bottom hem of my shirt to stop myself from reaching my free hand up to trace their outline.

I know being infatuated can be explained as an actual biochemical reaction occurring in the body. But if I found out I also suffered from the ongoing, extreme reactions the psycho-babblers termed Limerence; it would be the last straw. I’d commit the Hokey-Pokey, Hari-Kari hands down versus mooning endlessly over Luke the way I was right now. Even his short beard was a turn on to me, and I hate beards.

“What are you looking at, Princess?” Luke asked softly without opening his eyes. I smiled at his use of my royal title, so in tune with my own thoughts of him a moment ago.

“Please, it’s Princess Ruffles.” I whispered in correction.

On the floor behind me were wild thrashing noises. Sam Sheedy gasped, choked, and snorted like a huge pig at the trough before groaning and falling back asleep.

Eyes still closed, Luke swore succinctly. “That prick kept me up all night.”

I smiled and leaned back. I gave in and trailed my hand up his arm. “So, you can see with your eyes closed? What else do you have? X-ray vision?”

Luke opened one eye and squinted down the length of my body. His hands tightened on my hips, squeezing. “Yes, Princess Muffles, I can see through your shirt. It’s useless as cover. Take it off.”

I didn’t take it off, but I did slowly lift the thin material up high in the front so that I wasn’t the only one doing some endless, infatuated mooning.

“It’s Ruffles, Princess Pink Ruffles, to be precise.” I then answered his original question. “I was just looking at you. I like you in a beard and longer hair.”

I left my shirt hiked up while I trailed my fingers lazily down from his arm and over my exposed bare breasts. My thumb lightly brushed over a soft nipple and I felt the tip hardening. “I’ve been wondering why you are looking so…drug dealerish since I saw you last.”

Luke’s focus was concentrated solely on watching my wandering, plucking fingers when he murmured absently, “I needed to look like a dirtbag for a couple of weeks.” He took his left hand off my hip and rested it on his thigh. “Have I told you lately how much I love how you mind me, Princess Fink Ruffles?”

“Mmm…Dirtbag, it’s Pink, not Fink. Is this what you had in mind for me?” My fingers continued playing over my skin. They strolled unimpeded down my side, and spread across my stomach before moving lower. I lingered along the top of the narrow strip of tight silk barely deserving the name panty. I stroked one finger leisurely up and down the middle of my lips. I allowed my long fingernail to slip under the edge, and then paused.

My voice was low. “Of course you got the bad guys.”

“Don’t stop. I want to see you touch yourself.”

I waited. A few beats of silence later he answered. “Yes. Of course I got the bad guys.”

I smiled a little at his arrogant, impatient murmur. I dipped my finger all the way under my panty and lightly petted myself.

I wiggled my hips a fraction.

Luke moved his heavy leg off mine, stretching out full length on his side and facing me with his back against the sofa. Freed, I lifted my right leg slightly, sliding my foot up the sheet covered cushion towards my left knee. Luke decided I needed to move my leg higher. He put a hand around my ankle and brought my foot up, planting it flat above his slightly bent knee. The draping blanket covered me completely along my backside and raised leg. It created our own little world. As long as we were quiet and moved slowly, nobody would know what we were doing.

Luke’s other arm under me glided down. His hand started caressing and kneading my ass with strong fingers. Then I felt those long fingers reaching. They slipped under my panties and touched me from behind. He began rubbing my wetness over my own finger stroking deeper between my parted legs. I moved the tiny swatch of silk to the side so Luke could see how well I was minding him.

Luke glanced up from staring between my thighs and smiled lazily. “You’re right. It is Princess Pink Ruffles.”

I had to close my eyes and suck on my bottom lip to keep my answering, moaning laugh contained. My left hand clutched onto Luke’s arm. It was maddening having to hold my hips perfectly still to avoid detection. Every instinct was clamoring to rock and writhe against the fingers rubbing and flickering over Queen Victoria. Like good managers everywhere, I believe firmly in immediate feedback. I have been known to tell Luke if I like his performance on the job by screaming and cursing his name to the heavens, or threatening horrific consequences if he stops.

I stayed quiet even when Luke started doing my third, or maybe fourth, most favorite thing in the world; he began toying with my breasts with his other hand not busy between my legs. Without haste, he ran the back of his hand over my stiffened nipples. He teased languidly, and then captured one distended point between two fingers. I somehow remained silent, but I couldn’t help arching my back for more when those fingers tightened their grip. His clever fingers pinched and pulled one erect peak and then moved to the other, each time squeezing a little harder and tugging a little farther. I swear the man has magic fingers; he seems to touch me precisely how I desperately need it, even before I know I do.

Call me weak, but when Luke’s finger down below started dipping and circling, and then slowly penetrated from behind in my tied-for-third-place favorite move; I did moan softly in the back of my throat. It was torturous ecstasy. I went AWOL’ing. I thought hazily if there truly was a God; men would have been given three hands.

I don’t think my low moan was noticeable over the noisy snores from the floor behind us. When Luke added a second, large finger while his wonderfully intuitive thumb stayed busy, my louder moan was in sync with some loud choking and gasping from Sam.

I slipped my hand out from inside my panties and into Luke’s tented boxers. My hand could only form a C around his hard on instead of an O, but I could live with this problem.

When I pulled his eager penis out to play through the front panel of his boxers, I smiled with empathy into his eyes at his tense expression. He was having a great time, too, trying not to move against my firm grip and slow wrist action.

Looking down, the creamy drop glistening on the tip of his cock beckoned. I massaged it all over while pulling on the thick head. I stroked around the rim, and under. I loved how Luke’s penis felt like hot, silky velvet sheathed over the hardness of steel.

Luke’s hand left off fondling my breasts and glided under the covers to join the other cupping my ass. Both hands explored and fondled QV from behind; his two lubricious fingers inside me moving to the slow rhythm of my fist moving up and down on his dick.

He drew me up against his lounging body stretched out along the sofa. With my leg canted up on his thigh, the hard length of his erection in my hand was added to the mix of his fingers and thumbs. Forehead tilted against mine, it took Luke only a few deliberate, rubbing strokes for the friction against my clit to send me on my way to orgasm heaven. Tingling, I stiffened. Clenching spasmodically around his fingers, I tried not to cry out, tried not to move. Luke kissed me with a deep thrust of his tongue. I moved to hold on around his neck with my arms. The rippling waves of pleasure kept building throughout my body, even as I craved to feel the large fingers inside me replaced with his thicker, much larger erection.

My mind-reader consort was still on my wavelength. He pulled his fingers out from inside me to tightly grip my bottom. He entered me with his cock, slowly thrusting in and out until he worked fully inside me. Then he stopped. I groaned against Luke’s mouth at the incredibly tight, stretched almost-too-full sensation that was just what I desired. The waves peaked and crested. I came and came gloriously around him buried deeply inside me. He growled low in my ear how the feel of me gripping and clenching around his dick was driving him crazy.

Luke and I froze at the same moment. We both reared back a few inches to stare into each other’s faces in mutual, shocked disbelief. He was inside me to the hilt, skin on skin and unprotected.

I couldn’t tell from Luke’s still face and quickly lowered eyes what he was thinking, but I was dazed and freaked. I have never allowed a man’s penis to penetrate Vicky unprotected, not even as a virgin queen with Mike McClain. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t a trusting soul and was never
that
young or
that
innocent.

Sam Sheedy chose this inopportune moment to erupt on the floor like the reenactment of Mount Vesuvius destroying Pompeii.

Jazy sat up and threw her pillow at him while shouting, “THAT’S IT! I have had it, you damn, snoring fuckhead! Wake up, Tre! Come on, we are leaving this hell-hole!”

My sister stood up and swiped a kick at the spluttering, befuddled Sam in his sleeping bag, grabbed her things off the end table, and marched off down the hall towards the bathroom. She yelled over her shoulder, “Anabel, get up---we’re out of here in five!”

I quickly pulled my long T shirt down in front as best I could. Luke’s face was against my neck. His shoulders silently shook and his dick throbbed inside me and his hands still squeezed my ass and he held me close.

I didn’t know if he was laughing or crying, but flustered, I pushed at his shoulder. I hissed under my breath, “I can’t believe we did that! Let me go!”

His hair was a disheveled mess from my hands. His sensual mouth was twisted with sexual frustration, but as Luke leaned back, the eyes that met mine were tear-free and lit with laughter. He slid his hands up from under the covers and respectably cupped my shoulders. With a smile as slow as his withdrawal, Luke didn’t take his eyes off my face as he pulled out of me inch by inch. My hands clasping his forearms, I closed my eyes and went still at the sensation. The receding aftershocks of my personal seismic activity continued to shake me up inside. It caused me to clench and grip him around him harder, instinctively wanting him to stay put.

“Stop it, Anabel.” He ordered softly on a laughing groan.

“No.” I murmured, not opening my eyes.

Tre J sat up, swinging her legs to the floor and pulling the blanket over her lap. Yawning wide she asked, “What’s going on? Was that Jazy yelling or was it a dream?”

As Luke circumspectly adjusted his boxers, Sam sat up right behind me.

“That’s what I want to know! I was sleeping when she woke me up with her bitching!” Affronted he whined, “Can you believe she kicked me?”