“There’s a dish towel right there!” I wave a floppy hand in the direction of the hanging towel.
“I’m not done yet.”
My brow furrows, but because I’m still in orgasm-aftershock mode, I don’t fully process that statement.
One side of his mouth curls up in a smirk, and he slides his hand under my hair—not the one covered in my vagina juice. His palm curves around the back of my neck. His free, still-damp hand moves up my thigh, and he pushes my very, very soaked panties to the side again. His middle and index finger drag over my still-sensitive clit, causing me to jolt, and then he dips inside. He twists until his hand is facing palm-up. Which is when it finally clicks as to what he’s about to do.
I grip his wrist. “That’s a really bad idea.” It comes out all breathy and more like a moan than actual words.
“It’s a great idea, actually.”
“You’re gonna need to change your shirt,” I warn.
“I know. This was my pre-dinner outfit.” He presses his palm against my orgasm button. “You ready.”
I shake my head and say yes at the same time. I love it when he does this, but it’s taken me a while to get over the initial embarrassment that accompanies my bodily reaction to what he’s about to do.
“I don’t have to,” he says softly.
“I know. I want you to.” I grip the back of his neck like he’s doing to me, so I have an anchor point.
Our gazes meet, and he starts pumping and curling, fingers pressing into my G-spot on the inside and his palm moving against my clit. I bring my fist to my mouth, bite my knuckle, and groan a low, “Good fucking God, Kodiak. I’m already on the edge.”
“You are so damn sexy. One day we’re going to spend a week in bed together, no interruptions.”
“I’ll probably flood the room,” I moan at the next curl of his fingers.
He chuckles and keeps up with the slow pump and curl, but as my moans get louder, he speeds up, hand moving at a furious pace. I’m half a second away from coming again when there’s a loud pounding on the door.
My eyes go wide, and Kodiak shakes his head. “Ignore it. I know you’re about to come.”
“Hey! Who left the oven on unattended?” shouts BJ from the other side of the door.
“Fuck off! We’ll be there in a minute!” Kodiak yells back.
“K-k-kodiak, I can’t be q-quiet,” I stammer.
“So don’t be.” Aggressive finger curl. “It’s BJ’s fault for interrupting.” Another pump of his hand.
I don’t have a chance to argue, because orgasm number two rolls right through me, and as predicted, I’m sure as hell not quiet about it. I flail and jerk and groan my way through it even though I’m still biting my knuckle.
The incessant knocking stops, though. “Oh my God,” Lovey mutters. “Leave them alone.”
“I’ll just watch the oven, then,” BJ croaks like a preteen boy with his nuts caught in a vise.
Kodiak and I are both breathing hard, and I’m sure my face is as red as beet. My chest goes blotchy as embarrassment settles in. “Oh my God,” I whisper and poke Kodiak in the chest. “How the hell am I going to look them in the eye tonight?”
He grabs my fingers and gives the spot where I left teeth marks in my knuckle a kiss. “It’s their fault for trying to be cockblockers. Or vagina hackers.” He leans in and presses his lips to mine before pulling back. His expression is somewhere between self-satisfied and chagrined. “Are you going to be okay?”
I uncurl my hand from around the back of his neck and wave it around in the air. “I’ll be fine. I would prefer it if my friends didn’t know what I sound like when I come, that’s all.”
He grimaces. “I’m sorry.”
“Better that than having a blue bean all night, I guess. Speaking of blue things—” I glance down at the front of his pants where his very ample erection is pressing hard against the fly of his dress pants. Which are splattered with girl jizz, as is his shirt, the inside of my thighs, and the floor beneath me. The first time Kodiak made this happen, I’d been mortified, thinking I’d peed myself. It took two minutes of internet research to conclude that I hadn’t.
He pats the head, poking at his fly. “It’ll settle down in a minute, and it’s better if I have to wait until later.”
I have no idea how Kodiak manages to get his dick back under control when he’s this aroused, but for whatever reason, it doesn’t seem to bother him when he has to wait several hours before he gets his own relief. Delayed gratification is his jam, I guess.
He uses the dish towel to mop up the mess on the floor before he helps me down from the counter. I shuck off my panties and he nabs them from the floor. I’m a gross mess, so I pad across to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I use the removable showerhead to wash away the evidence of my excessive orgasms while Kodiak changes into a brand-new outfit.
Five minutes later, Kodiak’s hard-on has disappeared, and we’re dressed and ready to face our friends. Kodiak is wearing a ridiculous grin, and I’m wearing a very red face. I grumble about embarrassing situations and not giving in the next time he wants to dine at the pussy buffet right before a dinner party.
You’re My Superhero
Lavender
Lovey and Lacey are busy preparing salad, and BJ is busy shoving chocolate covered Jujubes from my candy charcuterie board into his face and washing it down with beer. Everyone turns to look at us when we walk into the kitchen.
BJ pushes back his chair and stands, slow clapping. “Nice work, man. Be thankful Mav wasn’t around to witness that stellar performance, or I have a feeling he’d kick your ass, K,” BJ says.
I roll my eyes. “Seriously, that doesn’t even make sense. I’ve heard Mav giving it to his flavor of the month plenty of times, and none of us give him grief about it. Why would he need to kick Kodiak’s ass for taking care of my needs?”
“Because you’re his baby sister and Kody is his best friend.” The duh is in BJ’s tone.
“That still doesn’t make sense to me.”
“What doesn’t make sense to you?” River appears in the kitchen with his phone in his hand. It might as well be another appendage. He hasn’t set it down the entire time we’ve been home for the holidays.
“Quadratic equations,” Kodiak all but shouts.
I give him the side eye.
“BJ thinks Mav would kick Kodiak’s ass if he heard me having an orgasm,” I tell my twin.
River holds up his hand. “Nope. We’re not talking about this. Kodiak and I are finally on decent terms. I do not want to know about this stuff. There are lines. This is one.”
“I witnessed Dad trying to hook you up with lube and condoms before we came here! Where were the lines then?” I throw my hands in the air and accidentally smack Kodiak in the arm.
“I love your parents.” BJ looks overly mirthful.
“ Why is it okay that I have to hear about the Waters’ Men foreplay mantra or whatever, but it’s not okay to know that my boyfriend gives me orgasms?” I can feel my face turning redder and redder by the second. I’m surprised I haven’t burst into flames yet. I don’t think my mom was right about me not getting the verbal-diarrhea gene because I seem incapable of shutting up, despite the horrible direction this conversation has taken.