Love Sex & Other Games: Part 3 (3 page)

“How did she feel?” She closes her eyes and releases a ragged breath.

“Not the same way I feel about her,” I reply.

“How do you feel about her?”

I wait for her to look at me before I answer. “I feel like she’s a nice sister-in-law—maybe not the best wife yet though—but hopefully in time. I’m much more interested in her little sister.”

Evan makes a disgusted sound and it takes a shit ton of effort not to kick him under the table.

“Dude, shut up,” Dante admonishes Evan. “They’re having a moment.”

“Did she kiss you?”

“What? No. NO. Nothing like that. The hug was the only physical contact we had.”

“And you turned down whatever she was offering, for me?”

I release a long breath and give up on not touching her, placing my hands on her face and cupping her jaw. “Not for you.
Because
of you. Because I want to be with you. Only you. And what I said before still stands. Always will. I don’t fucking share and I will never, ever expect you to either.”

“Awwwe,” Dante coos. Then, “Finish her,” in his booming Mortal Kombat voice.

I inch closer to Em, dying to feel her lips on mine. “So you need to ditch the douche-mobile, make it really clear to him we are
not broken up
, and then come home with me so we can make up for the three terrible days we spent apart.”

She turns her head, still inside my hands to look at Evan, sulking with arms crossed over his chest. She shrugs apologetically. “Sorry, Ev. Cooper and I are still together.”

“No,” I say, my voice nearly a growl.

She swings her attention back to me. “No?”

“Don’t apologize for having a boyfriend.”

She grins. “You’re my boyfriend?”

I return the smile. She’s adorable, and I love the way her brain works. “Yes, remember the part about us being together?”

She nods, still beaming.

“And why would you need to apologize to anyone for that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then don’t.”

“Evan,” she calls, her eyes focused on mine. “I’m not sorry Cooper and I are together. But I am sorry I have to go.”

“No you’re not,” I say through a smirk.

She laughs. “I’m really not.”

“Really, Emmie? You’re falling for this guy’s BS?” Evan scoffs. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Can I hit him?” I plead.

She shakes her head. “No. Just take me home, Boyfriend.”

“Seriously?” Dante moans. “I didn’t even get to have a drink.”

THE MAKE UP

Emerson

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Cooper sings much too cheerfully next to my ear. I smack at the air, shooing him away and pull the blanket over my head. Miraculously, I don’t have a headache—probably because Coop made me take ibuprofen and drink a bottle of water as soon as we got back to his place last night—but I’m tired. It’s the first time I’ve slept well in days and I’m not done yet.

“How you feeling?” he whispers, ducking under the covers with me. His arm slides around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. It feels ridiculously nice. I could stay like this all day.

“Sleepy,” I say. “Shhh.”

He chuckles and I can feel his smile against my shoulder just before he trails his tongue across it. He kisses his way to my neck as his hand slips under my tank top, making a slow ascent toward my breast, and suddenly I’m feeling rather bushy-tailed.

“Okay,” he concedes, “I didn’t plan on talking anyway.” This is said against the space just below my ear, causing goose bumps to explode along my skin. What an awesome way to wake up. And to think, I could have been enjoying this days ago if only I wasn’t such a judgmental asshole.

“I’m really, really sorry,” I murmur.

His lips pause their seduction. “You’re forgiven.”

“Don’t let me off the hook that easily,” I protest. “I acted like an idiot. Make me suffer a little.”

He holds the blanket so it’s still cocooning us, but sits up, rolls me to my back, then lowers himself on top of me, circling my legs around his hips one at a time. I can feel his morning wood throbbing between my legs and, holy shit, I want to rub myself against it. But I’m apologizing, so I reluctantly hold back. Although, that might be a great way to make it up to him.

“Ems, I understand why and how you reacted the way you did. The only part that sucked was you not trusting me enough to let me explain. But I get that too. I need to earn your trust. And I’m okay with that. I like the idea of demonstrating how much I’m into you—in every way I possibly can. Now,
shh
. No more talking. Lay there and let me prove myself to you. We need a proper make-up session.”

Cooper slides my top over my head, his mouth closing around my nipple immediately. We moan in unison and I give in, grinding into his erection. His teeth nip at my sensitive skin before he’s pulling back and dragging my pants down my legs. My panties follow next and this is new for us. I’ve never been completely naked in front of him. Not all at once.

He positions himself between my legs, his lower half hanging off the bed as he kneels on the floor. I gather the blanket, tugging and rolling it until I can toss it aside. The cool air chills my skin, but Cooper lowers his head, placing a single, lingering kiss to my inner thigh, heating me right back up.

His eyes never leave mine as he grips me behind my knees, drawing me closer to him. And then he lowers his head, his tongue delving between my slick folds, circling the delicate skin. I gasp, sucking in a quick breath and release it on a groan. He smiles against me, repeating the movement, his gaze full of hunger as he openly watches my shameless response.

He dips two fingers inside me and I press my head into the mattress, biting down on my lip. Unable to bridle my own appetite, I flex my hips, moving them to ride his long fingers.

Seriously. How could I allow myself to miss out on this for days? So. Damn. Stupid.

I fist handfuls of his hair, provoking him to growl into my flesh. His tongue, soft and hot, continues to devour me, sampling, savoring. I’m not sure how he does it, but I feel cherished—worshipped. Sexy, beautiful…cared for. My lashes drop, eyes falling shut, and I let the sensations consume me until I’m crying his name through panted breath.

Cooper lifts his head, mouth glistening. I cup his strong, rough jaw, guiding him up my body, basking in the weight of him against me. When I can finally reach him, I lick myself off his lips and into his mouth in a passionate kiss. When we come up for air, I roll us until Cooper is on his back. I guide his boxer briefs past his hips and down his muscular legs, dropping them to the floor, and then I twist and tuck my hair into a messy bun as quickly as I can.

Picking up on my intentions—I think knotting the hair was a sure giveaway, because nothing says ‘I’m about to provide you with the best blow job I can’ quite like tying up one’s hair—he scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth.

His dick twitches as I reach for him. He’s hard steel under smooth velvet. This isn’t a skill I’m advanced in, but I have enough friends and I’ve watched enough tumblr porn gifs to pick up the basic idea. With one hand kneading his thigh and the other wrapped around his cock, I duck my head and swirl my tongue around the tip.

Cooper drops his head back to the pillow with a hiss. “I want to clone you a hundred times,” he husks. “Mostly for dirty and nefarious purposes.”

~*~

Cooper

Emerson and I are seated at my mom and dad’s dining room table after I was summoned for dinner. Mom said she was worried about me, which after the reception incident and ignoring her bi-weekly phone calls, I understand. So I very grudgingly left my bed and dragged Em along with me to offer the only other woman in my life some reassurance.

I assumed it would be my parents and us, but as I examine the two extra place settings, a terrible feeling takes root in the pit of my stomach. Em notices too, shooting me a panicked look, followed by a scowl when all I can do is shrug. I didn’t know. I should have—Mom likes to pull crap like this—but I really didn’t.

Now it occurs to me that she wasn’t just worried about me. She was worried about my relationship with Miles and his new bride.

Oh, Mom, if you had any idea…

“Who else is joining us?” I question, not bothering to conceal my annoyance. “You made it sound like it would just be us.”

Mom sets a large, covered roasting pan in the middle of the table, shifting the salt and pepper shakers to the other side of the table, farthest from Dad’s seat. The doctor said he needs to cut back, but Dad insists he’d rather die sooner and happy, then live longer and miserable. Mom prefers the latter.

“It is just us,” she says, lifting the lid to reveal her famous pot roast, my all-time favorite meal—after Em. I’m momentarily distracted because the aroma hits me and it smells amazing. Which is probably the reason she did it.

“What are those plates for?” I ask, pointing directly across from where Em and I sit.

“For your brother and Roselyn.”

Yeah. That’s what I thought. “You said it was just us.”

“Yes, us. The family. Your dad, me, Miles, Roselyn, you, and Emerson.” She beams at Em when she says her name. It’s been a while since I’ve brought a woman home. The fact that Mom’s known this one all her life—and she’s her daughter-in-law’s sister—is a bonus.

“You should have told me,” I complain.

Mom fixes me with her mom-stare. “You wouldn’t have come if I told you.”

“Exactly.”

“Cooper, I can see that you’re happier and I’m glad,” she states, her voice firm, but mom-soft at the same time. “And now that you are, you and your brother can start to heal your relationship. The best way to do that is to spend some time together. Let’s start with dinner, all right?”

Right on cue, the doorbell rings.

Mom leaves to answer it, yelling for Dad to get his ass to the table on her way.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Em breathes. “Want to make it fun?”

“How?” I honestly cannot imagine how that’s possible—unless we leave.

“Let’s play a game.”

Okay, maybe I was wrong. I raise a brow, my lips forming a lecherous smirk. “What kind of game?”

“No, not that. Not at your parents’ house, you perv. I was thinking more like we have to do something every time Miles or Rosie look like they feel awkward.”

“Like what?”

She shrugs.

“Okay, how about every time Miles looks like he’d rather be at the dentist having his teeth drilled, I have to feed you. And every time Rosie looks like she wants to run out the door, you have to break out in song.”

A burst of laughter puffs from her lips. “What? No way. Mine is way more embarrassing. Trade.”

“Fine, on one condition,” I yield as everyone files into the room. I put my lips against her ear, so only she can hear me. “When we leave, I get to finger you in the car—all the way back my house.”

She swallows forcefully. “Agreed.”

“Game on,” I whisper. And then to everyone else, “Who’s ready to eat?”

~*~

Emerson

I did not foresee how weird it would be to feed Cooper in front of his family. I wanted to back out as soon as I took one look at Miles and Rosie and realized the entire damn night was going to be one long, awkward nightmare.

Not only that, but it never occurred to Coop or I that we would be fueling our own game. Each time I fork a piece of roasted potato into his mouth, Rosie winces a little, causing Cooper to start singing, which in turn makes both Miles and Rosie look thoroughly confused, definitely uncomfortable, and a little like they want to disappear. It’s become an endless cycle. Oh, and also, I’m fairly certain Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick think we’re on drugs.

Regardless of all the collective discomfort in the room, I’m still having fun. The fact that I shouldn’t be makes it even funnier somehow.

“You are aware he can feed himself, right?” Miles asks, rolling his eyes. Cooper chuckles, shamelessly amused, opening his mouth for another bite, which I feed him because I have to. The more annoyed Miles gets, the more I have to annoy him. It’s the most ridiculous—yet hilarious—situation I’ve ever been in.

Who would have ever thought I’d be having a good time aggravating Miles after crushing on him all these years. For the first time in my life, I’m enjoying playing the part of irritating little sister.

“I think it’s cute,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick says. “I wish you were sweet to me like that,” she tells her husband. He grunts, shoveling a bite of pot roast into his mouth.

“So,” my sister starts, then stops to clear her throat. “When did you two, um, start seeing each other?” She’s addressing me, but Cooper answers her—in song.

“Just in time,” he sings, turning in his seat to look at me. “I found you just in time. Before you came, my time was running low.”

Oh, my god.

He’s serenading me. With an old love song. And he sounds thoroughly perfect. I know I’m staring at him, slack-jawed and stunned, and most likely a little dreamy, but oh. My. God. The man can croon.

“I was lost. The losing dice were tossed. My bridges were all crossed. Nowhere to go.” He grins at my expression, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, miraculously turning this voyeuristic moment intimate. “Now you’re here. And now I know just where I’m going. No more doubt or fear. I’ve found my way.”

“Awe,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick sighs, clapping her hands. “I love Nina Simone.”

“That’s Tony Bennett,” Mr. Fitzpatrick argues.

“Frank Sinatra,” Cooper corrects, eyes still on me. He inches closer, brushing a feather-light kiss on my cheek before sliding up to my ear. “Don’t forget to take your panties off before we leave.”