Page 39 of Mistle-Ho

“What about this?” I drag the flat of my tongue up her slit, stopping to flick against her clit before lifting my eyes to her face. “Like?”

I don’t really need to ask that question. I know she likes it, but I want to hear her say it. To me. To herself. I want Alexis to admit she likes what I do to her.

Because I want her to keep asking me to do it. I don’t want her going to assholes like Huge-nose or Dill-hole. I want her to come to me.

To come for me.

Alexis gives me a jerky nod, her blue eyes fused to mine. “Like.” Her thighs jerk as I tongue her again. “Like a lot.”

It’s exactly what I want to hear. What my pride and the jealous streak I’ve worked so hard to suppressneedto hear. So I reward her.

Sealing my lips against her heated, slick flesh, I work her up quickly, hoping to prove myself. Determined to give her a reason to forgive me.

With her hands fisted in my hair, back arching to press those glorious tits higher in the air, my dick jerks in my pants, threatening to send me over the edge with her. But then my name erupts from her lips and the need to come is replaced with a different sort of satisfaction.

I’m the one who gave her that and she knows it.

Alexis slumps against the cushions, eyes glassy and dazed, limbs askew and boneless. Her full lips are parted as she fights to catch her breath, giving me time to offer the thighs just clampedat my ears a little attention. Her skin is soft and smooth against my tongue as I nip and tease my way toward her knees, kneading her muscles as I go.

“That was...” Alexis blinks a few times, still staring at me. “That was...”

“Amazing?” I’m happy to help her finish the sentence. “Fantastic?” My lips curve as I offer one more option. “Something you want to do again very soon?”

Alexis gives me a sly smile, lifting one shoulder. “I could be persuaded.”

“Then I guess it’s good I can be persuasive.” I want to keep touching her, kissing her, but she straightens, pulling herself from my grip as the soft, satiated expression on her face shifts to something that has my stomach clenching with dread.

“But I feel like we should have a conversation before things get too…” Again, she fails to finish the sentence.

This time, I’m not helping her out. Not when I’m afraid I know where she’s headed.

“Complicated.”

The upset trying to squirm through my insides stalls out. That’s not what I was expecting her to say. I was expecting something more likeseriousorinvolved. A word that would remind me this thing between us isn’t a thing at all.

Complicatedis different.ComplicatedI can work with.

“We passed complicated the night you climbed into that treehouse, Al.” I run my hands over her skin, memorizing the curve of her hips. “Simplicity was gone the minute I touched you.”

Alexis pinches her lower lip between her teeth, watching the path of my touch as it slides past the dip of her waist up to lift the weight of her tits. “Is that why you were jealous of Dillon?”

If her fingers weren’t tangled in my T-shirt, pulling me closer, the sound of that prick’s name on her lips when she’s likethis—naked and flushed—would have me jerking my dick until her skin was painted in my cum. Inme.

Proving she will never be his.

But there’s no judgment in Al’s tone. The expression on her face is soft and gentle, devoid of the hostility I expected to receive over the way I acted. It makes me want to believe she could understand me. To believe that once again Alexis will prove herself to be as different as I think she is.

I shake my head. “No.” Wincing, I amend the statement. “It’s not theonlyreason I’m jealous of him.”

Alexis rubs her lips together, studying me for a minute. Then she tries to straighten away. “I feel like I should get dressed for this conversation.”

I don’t want her to walk away. I don’t want to give myself time to think over what I’m about to do. I’ll change my mind and go back to burying my shame. “Wait.” I shuck my shirt, immediately dragging it over her head. “You can wear this.” The solution solves two problems. It keeps her from giving me space I will fully take advantage of, and seeing her wearing something of mine soothes a little of the jealousy I need to explain.

Gently, I work the curls of her blonde hair free of the neckline, letting my fingers linger on the skin of her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

Al’s lips twist, making me hold my breath as I wait to see where they’ll end up. I never know with her. She’s as likely to smile as she is to frown, but the expression on her face doesn’t always go with what she feels. I’ve seen her scowl and roll her eyes over something I know damn well she found hilarious. I’ve also seen her smile when everything else on her face says she’s contemplating murder.

But this time, it all matches up when her full mouth tips into a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

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