At some point during the meal, Herkie worms his way under the table, and he periodically rests his head in my lap, looking for food. He doesn’t get any from me, but he still manages to be more successful than G attempting to eat off Tessa’s plate.
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much.” Q rubs her belly. “Don’t tell my abuela.”
A mixture of pained groans and laughter sounds from around the room, each of us finding a place to get comfortable after we were shooed away from cleanup by Bette and Mama G.
“That was only round one,” I tell her, rubbing my own food baby.
“Round one? How many rounds are there?” Mase asks in my ear, shifting us so we’re snuggled closer together.
“Um…” I catalog what we eat. We do dinner during the first game, dessert during halftime of the second, and then turkey sandwiches before calling it a night. “Three.”
“I knew I loved this house.” Trav stretches out with his feet on the ottoman.
“Of course you do. You are ruled by your stomach,” G says on a laugh.
“Like you’re one to talk.” Em playfully slaps G on the thigh her head is resting on.
A chorus of “Preach!” comes from his fellow frat brothers.
“I don’t think I could eat another bite,” CK chimes in.
“Don’t worry, you have time to digest. The next course isn’t until halftime.” I point to where the Dallas game has just kicked off.
“Heaven…this is what heaven has to be like, right?” Trav’s eyes take on a look of wonder.
Conversation starts to putter off as people either focus on the game or fall into a food coma.
I feel myself start to drift toward the abyss of sleep myself when Mase’s nose and stubble trail along the side of my neck, shooting tingles down my spine. I wiggle against him, my ass brushing against his growing erection.
“Keep squirming like that and I’ll be eating you for dessert.” His voice is gravel rough against the shell of my ear.
I feel myself go slick, and if I wasn’t going commando, my panties would need changing.
“Promise?” My voice comes out breathy I’m so turned on.
“Say the word and I’ll make it a reality.”
My eyes close as his teeth scrape down the shell of my ear before pulling the lobe and attached diamond stud into his mouth.
“Right here?” I squeak. Damn it’s embarrassing how much he affects me.
His deep chuckle rumbles through my body.
“Well maybe not right here.” He drags his tongue down my throat in a swirling pattern. “E would kill me before I could get you off.”
Lust causes my eyelids to grow heavy and shut, but I force them open and cast a look around the room. Across the couch, Em is now asleep on G, and he doesn’t look too far away from joining her. T is passed out with Herkie on his luxurious memory foam dog bed—no surprise there.
Trav, Noah, Alex, and Kev are living every little boy’s dream in deep conversation with both B and my brother, while Bette is cuddled in E’s lap. CK looks to be splitting his attention between the football talk and the Dallas game. What surprises me most is Q is asleep with her head in his lap. Maybe, finally, he’ll give the girl a chance—she’s crushing on him hard. And Mama and Papa G are FaceTiming with D at the dining room table.
No one will miss you two if you leave. *twirls hair around a finger and cants head to the side* And that’s if they even notice you left.
With a rare piece of helpful advice from my inner cheerleader, I take one of Mase’s bear paws into my hand, his callouses brushing across the smooth skin of my palm, making me think of what they are going to feel like on the skin of my more sensitive areas, and I pull him from the couch.
Being the smart guy he is, he doesn’t question, following me silently.
Nobody stops us, but I hesitate after crossing the threshold of my bedroom. If I close the door, it’ll not only be obvious where we went but also what we’re doing. I know I’m nineteen years old and there’s nothing wrong with having consensual sex with my boyfriend, but E isn’t the most rational person when it comes to me and sometimes he forgets these facts.
What to do? What to do?
My gaze falls to the door of my walk-in closet, and inspiration strikes. Never in my life have I been more grateful to have the kind of closet most girls dream about. The large space has bars and shelving on both sides and the back wall is the perfect display of shoe porn, but its most important feature? The lock on the door.
“I didn’t think we had a closeted relationship,” Mase jokes as I click the lock home.
God that devilish smirk can get a girl in trouble.
I sure as hell hope so. My inner cheerleader gives a hair flip.
“Funny.” I slip my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt and pull it from his body. “We’re less likely to be interrupted this way.”
“Have I told you I like the way you think?” He matches my actions and has my shirt and bra on the floor before I can blink. Equally efficient, he’s on his knees in front of me, pulling my leggings from my body and lifting me into his arms, spinning around.
My back hits the cold marble surface of the island chest of drawers, and I’m pretty sure he’s found his favorite feature of my closet. With one hand spanning the width of my chest, he presses me flat while using the other to unwrap my legs from his waist. His green eyes scorch me as he stares down at me spread out like I’m the Thanksgiving feast.
“God…you’re so fucking beautiful.” His reverent tone slays me. “And you’re mine. All
