He reached for her to stop the madness, but she backed away.
“It’s cool. I’m fine. I can still do the walking thing.” She straightened her shoulders and blinked back the tears in her just-poked eye while muttering, “Stop showing off, Lacey. Stick to the basics.”
She took a deep breath and started toe-heeling it across their front porch. He stayed close behind, ready to catch her if she fell. She made it a good ten feet, and although the line was more serpentine dodging-a-bullet than a straight path, he slow-clapped for her when she stopped and bowed.
“How about that? Bet you didn’t see that coming.” She looked very pleased with herself, so he bent low and kissed her senseless. When he finally came up for air, her hands were fisted in his hair and she was breathing hard.
“That’s nice. Let’s do that again,” she whispered.
He chuckled even as his blood heated, and he led her into the house.
“Why don’t you sit down and tell me about your night while I make you some eggs?” He tossed the keys into the wooden bowl on the side table then crossed the room to the fridge.
She pulled out one of the walnut kitchen chairs and settled in with a sigh. “Sounds good. As long as you promise we can do the tube steak boogie after.”
He chuckled and nodded. “Deal.” He dug through the stainless steel refrigerator,pulled out some butter, eggs, and cheese and then deposited his haul onto the marbled granite island.
“So The Meat Market, huh? Is that going to be your new hangout?” he asked with a grin as he cracked the eggs into a ceramic bowl and started to whisk them together.
“Well, apparently it was on my bucket list, but I’m going to have to say no. I can’t speak for your sister and Courtney, though. They seemed like they were really enjoying themselves.”
He could only imagine. Good thing Shane was used to Cat’s insanity, or else she might have found herself looking at some serious groveling. When they’d walked in, his sister was in the midst of a drinking contest with a guy named K. Long. He only had to stand for them to figure out the origin of the name. Galen wasn’t a hater and had never had any complaints, but damn, the guy looked like he was packing a pony in his pants.
He slid four slices of bread into the toaster, and then popped a pod of Columbian roast into the one-cup coffee maker.
“So where did you guys go before that? I hope they at least fed you…”
Lacey’s face scrunched in thought and then she shook her head. “I don’t think they did.” She held up a finger. “Wait. They did. If you count lime Jell-O shots.”
He didn’t, and annoyance pricked him. When he saw his sister, he was going to ream her out for it, whether Shane liked it or not. Cat knew Lacey was a total lightweight, and she should have kept a closer eye on her. Luckily, once he’d gotten there, he’d had the bartender switch her to virgin drinks, so the worst of it should be over soon.
He sprinkled the eggs with salt and pepper, added some shredded cheese, and then folded the cooked eggs in half to make a perfect omelet big enough for two.
He made his way over to the table and gestured for Lacey to hold out her plate. She did, and he cut the omelet in two and slid half onto her plate.
“Oh, that smells so good,” she groaned.
Her enthusiasm gave him hope. It had been almost two weeks since the last time they’d had sex, and he missed it. He missed her. The way she smelled, the way her smooth, trim body felt against his. It wasn’t just the release—although, fuck, that part was good. It was the closeness. Damn, did that make him sound like a sap.
He piled the rest of the eggs on his plate and went to snag the toast. With a quick slather of butter, it was ready to go, and he carried it to the table to add to the feast.
Lacey had already plowed her way through a third of her omelet and seemed to be picking up steam. “Seriously. This is the best food I’ve ever eaten. You should be a chef.”
He snorted. “I can only make three things. Eggs, steak, and grilled cheese. What kind of restaurant would that be?” He forked up some eggs and started eating.
She was right, they were pretty damned good.
“The best one in the world. At least, for after hours. You could cater strictly to drunk people with questionable palettes,” she said before digging into her toast.
They ate in companionable silence, and he urged her to drink her coffee. A few minutes later, their late night breakfast was obliterated, and he sat back in his chair, full and satisfied.
Almost.
“How you feeling?” he asked, hoping the desperation didn’t show on his face. Lacey was the best girlfriend in the world, and their sex life was better than any he’d ever experienced. If she was going through a hard time emotionally, he was hardly justified in being upset or begging—
“Actually,” she said, pushing her chair back from the table with a screech. “I feel a lot better.” She stepped behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, dipping her head low to catch his earlobe between her teeth.
He dropped the napkin he’d been holding and let out a hiss. Oh, thank god.
He made to stand so he could implement plan “Blow Lacey’s Mind”, but she put her hands on his shoulders and pressed him firmly back into his seat.
“Give me a minute, would you?” she asked softly, her eyes making sexy promises that made his pulse pound.
He would give her just about anything at that point but settled on a nod. His cock had already gotten the memo that things were about to get popping and was pressing insistently against the fly of his jeans. He couldn’t wait to be inside her. Feel her tight, wet heat closing over him, and the slow drag of soft flesh against his. Maybe she wanted time to change into a negligee that she’d bought when they went to New York. His blood pumped hard as he recalled the way the black silk skimmed her curves, ending right where her thighs began, so he could see her—
“Move your chair back.” She ran her hands through his hair and gave it a tug.
“What do you mean?”
She dropped to her knees and stared up at him, her eyes wide and hot. “I mean like slide your chair back so I can fit right”—she leaned forward and slid her hand around to his cock—“here.” She patted him and her lips stretched into a knowing smile. “Apparently part of you is way ahead of the rest of you.”
He pushed his chair out, hard enough that he nearly knocked the table over, and turned it until he faced her.
“Now what?” he asked through gritted teeth. Was she going to give him a lap dance? Sit on him and grind against him?
“Unzip them.” The demand in her voice was something he’d never heard before, and he narrowed his eyes at her.
“Lacey—”
“Do it. You always get to be the boss, now I want to be the boss for once.”
Well, well, well. Little Lacey Drawers was feeling tough. He’d just have to make sure he was—what had Rafe called it when he was telling them why he and his latest squeeze hadn’t clicked?—topping from the bottom. He liked being in control, and he wasn’t going to apologize for it, but if she wanted to take a spin at calling the shots, he’d give her a go at it. It wouldn’t be the first time, although usually, it didn’t take but a well-placed nibble or a flick of the tongue to get her to change her mind. Tonight would be no different.
“I’m at your mercy, love,” he murmured and settled back, trying to keep his muscles loose. They’d been coiled tight since he’d convinced her to hit the dance floor with him and she had started shimmying and swaying in her sexy librarian work clothes. Now, he needed to chill, let her play for a while before he hit the point that he had to take the reins and drive them both over the edge.
Lacey stared at him for a long moment, suddenly seeming unsure. She wet her lips and jerked her head at him. “Well? I said unzip ‘em.”
Indeed she had. Galen reached for the button of his jeans and tugged. It came open easily, and he slid one hand down the front of the worn denim. With her eyes locked on him, he couldn’t resist sliding his hand lower to stroke the length of his cock one time. Her eyes went glassy, and he groaned. She always had liked to watch him, but this wasn’t the time to take matters into his own hands.
“Do it again,” she whispered and leaned forward to grip his thighs with her warm, soft hands. Her face was close enough that the fall of honey waves brushed his hips.
He obliged her, first yanking the zipper down and freeing the throbbing cock from its prison. He circled the shaft with his fist and stroked upward, squeezing when he reached the broad head.
“Mmm,” she moaned and then leaned toward him. The breath suspended in his lungs as she flicked her tongue out and rubbed it across the tip of his cock.
Fuck, her mouth was hot. It felt like months since she’d sucked him off, but it’d probably only been a couple weeks. Before he could think on how lucky he was, she dove forward and took him deep. She shoved his hand out of the way and took him deeper still. He let out a choked groan. “Jesus, babe, slow it down.”
She pulled back and met his gaze. “You’re on my time right now, so I’ll let you know when it’s time to slow down. How’s that, big guy?”
Hard to argue when the sexiest woman in the world was on her knees in front of you, her mouth already red and a little swollen from having your dick in it. He wised up quick and shut his mouth, settling back again to give her better access. “Sorry,” he rasped out, taking a breath to try and get his pounding pulse back under control.
She didn’t give him the chance as she leaned in and took him into her sweet mouth again. It was all hot breath and soft tongue and incoherent sighs. He wanted to watch her so bad. To see every second of her plump lips closing over his thickness. Her cheek bones going sharp as she increased the suction, taunting him with the tender flesh of the inside of her mouth. But his lids drifted closed, the lure of total oblivion, the need to just feel too strong to fight.
Her fingers dug into his thighs as she found her rhythm, up and down. Fast then faster. She swirled the tip of her tongue over the swollen head as she passed, sending a bolt of pure lust through him, and he held his breath. Shit. His balls went tight, and he slid a hand into her thick mane of hair.
“That’s enough, Lace.” The words sounded like they’d been dragged over a field of glass, broken and guttural. Because he didn’t want her to stop. He wanted to grab the back of her head and urge her on. Beg her to never stop. To flex his hips and quicken the pace until he exploded in a hot rush of liquid, emptying himself into her throat.
She pulled back, gave him one last long lick and peered up at him. “Now I want you inside of me. But I don’t want you to come because I’m not finished here. Understand?”
His cock pulsed and jerked, a pearl of translucent liquid leaking from the slit at the tip. It must have caught her eye because she stared down, mesmerized.
She was halfway to his lap, ready to suck him into the crazed tornado again, but he stopped her, cupping her chin in his hand.
“If you want me inside you, you’d better quit while you’re ahead,” he whispered, and leaned in to kiss her. She opened her mouth to argue, but he was beyond the point of reason. He stood, drawing her up with him, and slid his hands downward to cup her sweet, round ass.
“Play time is over, babe.”
He bent and hoisted her up, forcing her to wrap her thighs around his waist to keep herself from falling. She squealed and slid her arms around his neck.
“I got you. Let’s get you upstairs. I have something I wanted to show you.” Galen carried her down the hall and kicked open their bedroom door. They stepped into the room, and he flicked on the light with his elbow.
She froze in place and gasped. “Holy mother of god.”
Chapter Three