I hated seeing her like this.
So I did something about it.
I slid onto the floor, ignoring the pinch of the hard tile beneath my knees as I positioned myself between her legs. Obviously startled, she moved her hand to the side to see what I was doing. But the second I ran my palm over her bare thigh, my thumb grazing the sensitive skin between her legs, she dropped her hand to the couch.
Her body had relaxed so much that her legs were practically limp on either side of me. And as I bent over to taste her skin, her breathing had changed as well. No longer were they strained inhales and hesitant exhales. Now they seemed to flow in and out of her chest like waves in the ocean—effortless and natural.
It didn’t take long for her uh-huhs to turn into mmhmms. The few words she did have to give in response to whatever he said were slow, dragged out, and partially mumbled. How he didn’t question her was beyond me.
I’d only meant to relax her, maybe help take away some of her stress. But once I had my face between her legs, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to back away. It definitely took major restraint to stay over her shorts when all I wanted to do was taste her.
A few mumbles later, she disconnected the call and tossed her phone onto the cushion next to her. With the most contented smile I’d ever seen her wear, she ran her fingers through the sides of my hair and held me captive in her slate-colored eyes.
She was so damn sexy.
All I wanted to do was bury my face between her legs and let her grind herself into my mouth. And while I was sure she’d be up for that if I initiated it, I could tell by her expression that she had heavier things on her mind. Her grin was soft, not reaching her eyes—which were a paler shade than I was used to seeing. Rather than the faint, light cyan color that had the ability to silence the world with a single glance, they were more of a pale blue, like a heavily diluted watercolor. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it wasn’t a reaction to my sexual advances. I knew, without a doubt, exactly what shade of grey her eyes were when she was aroused.
Which was how I could tell that, while not opposed to taking this further, she had other things on her mind. And the first time I tasted her, the first time I felt her, the first time I pushed inside her…I wanted her complete, undivided attention. If that meant I’d have to wait until the show finished filming and she was back to living her own life then so be it.
“Need a beer?” I asked, giving both of us an easy out without making it awkward or obvious.
A despondent groan vibrated past her lips as she scrunched her nose. It was the most pathetic whine I’d ever seen—so pathetic that she didn’t even open her mouth to release the sound. One side of her top lip quirked up in a scowl, completing the image of absolute misery on her face right before she muttered, “I think it’s going to be a rum night.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, other than it wasn’t good.
“Straight or mixed?”
Sadness blanketed her face. “In hot cocoa.”
“Are you sure? Because it doesn’t sound like that’s what you want.”
“It is, it’s just that Dave always makes it for me, and he does it perfect. I have no idea how he does it, and he’s not here to make it for me.”
I never thought I’d be competing with a gay man for the love of a woman.
Yet here I was.
“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do my best.” I gave her hips a squeeze and then pushed myself onto my feet. My dick might’ve been sad that I was walking away, but my knees couldn’t have been happier to be off the tile floor.
It was probably close to ten minutes before I returned to the living room with one mug of spiked hot chocolate for Tasha and a bottle of water for myself. It had taken a bit to locate the box of cocoa in the pantry, and then I had to make it. I also needed a minute or two to get my blood pumping north again.
Tasha locked her phone screen and then set it next to her. She was more than likely texting Dave, which made me slightly jealous. I wanted her to talk to me, open up to me, but I couldn’t blame her. If the roles were reversed, I’d go to either Jessa or Marcus, not because I didn’t trust Tasha, but because my sister and her husband could offer me a level of comfort that she simply couldn’t match…yet.
She took a sip to taste it, hummed, nodded, and then set the mug on the coffee table. Turning her body to face me, she tucked her feet beneath her bottom and propped her elbow on the back of the couch, resting her head in her open palm. The element of stress was still in her eyes, though the rest of her body language insinuated that she’d begun to relax—at least a little.
“You hummed and nodded…does that mean you like it?”
“It’ll do.” She shrugged and playfully sucked her teeth, yet it didn’t hide the smirk that tugged at one side of her mouth. There was no reason for her to deny it if she thought it was good—or possibly as good as Dave’s—which meant her blasé attitude was in jest. And that meant she was on her way to being herself again.
“How do you spell especially?”
My random question clearly caught her by surprise. However,
