Page 17 of Brazen Deceits

I settle between his legs, running my hands up his thighs, my right hand wrapping around his cock, my left gently cupping his balls. Something cold brushes against my hand. Somethingmetal.

Curious, I shift, and there, where his cock meets his body, is a ring, three beads attached to a hoop. It doesn’t take long to realize exactly where those beads would hit my body, and I clench in anticipation. I run a finger over the ring, following the bumps from one side to the other. Jansen watches me, his smile spreading. “Not yet, beautiful. You made a promise.”

I rub the large center bead one last time, then with a grumble about lost opportunities, I dance my fingers around his dick, teasing him with barely there touches. A few circles later, I pull my hand to my mouth, licking each of my fingers, then my palm, debating a peek at Jansen, but too worriedabout what I’ll see there. A sharp intake of breath from him lets me know that I’m doing okay so far.

I stroke my damp hand up and down, trying to gauge his rhythm. A few fast strokes, and a bead of pre-cum seeps out of the tip, and I pause my pattern to spread the pearl around the head, adding slickness to my hand. Fast and hard, I stroke again, my other hand gliding between his balls, around them, gentle but insistent. A few more pumps, circle the head. A few more pumps, play with his balls.

The rhythm takes over, time flexing and shifting with each shiver that crosses Jansen’s skin, pleasure and maddening patience rippling through him.

After what feels like both forever and no time at all, Jansen tenses, his eyes fluttering shut. With a sighed, “Oh God,” he comes, a puddle collecting on his abs.

I still, letting the spasms slow in my grip before sliding my hand up into the pool, an insane desire to draw in the fluid coming over me. I settle for slow circles in the mess, watching Jansen relax, morphing into a creature I’ve never seen before, one bereft of anxious energy and spontaneous movement. His eyes hood as he watches my fingers, swirling in his cum, stickier the longer I play.

“God, Clara.”

I smile, oddly proud. “Are you awake now?”

He laughs. “I’m something, for sure.”

I shift, rubbing my thighs together. Watching him come apart—yeah, it turns out that makes me horny.

He looks around. “I might need some help here,” he says, motioning at the slowly drying puddle. “I have a spare towel in the bottom drawer of my dresser. Could you get it?”

I tilt my head to one side. “Exactly how long do you think we have? Because I’ll help you if you help me.”

A grin cuts across his face. “That seems fair.”

I walk to his dresser, bending at the waist to get the towel, putting on a show. Turning back with the towel, I preen with his eyes locked on me. Strutting to the side of the bed, I slip down next to him before wiping off his abs. Once I’ve cleaned him up, I go to toss the towel, but at the last moment he snags it, wiping the places that I can’t see but that he can feel.

Clean, he props himself up on his elbows, eyes scanning over my half-naked body perched beside him. I lean forward for a kiss, right as athud thud thudpounds on the door. “Jansen, you fucker, you’d better be getting dressed, or I’m out twenty bucks,” Trips hollers through the door.

“Chill out. We’ll be down in a minute,” Jansen yells back, not taking his eyes from mine.

“You’ve got one. Make it count,” Trips says, his feet heavy down the stairs.

I cut my gaze to the door, both disappointed and embarrassed. I’d waltzed in here with a simple task—wake up Jansen. Now I’m half naked, fully horny, and we almost just put on a show for the one guy in the house I’m not even sure likes me.

What the fuck am I doing? I’ve never been this forward before. It’s like last night, a wildness in me shook loose, and I don’t know if I can lock it back in. I want to tease, to flirt, to fuck, and while the feeling’s not totally foreign, it’s never been on my terms before. This is unfamiliar territory, and I have no idea how to navigate it.

Jansen doesn’t let me wallow, though. He snags my chin and kisses me deeply. “Later,” he says, a promise, before tossing me my bra and shirt from the floor. He bounds up and pulls on some pajama pants and a sweatshirt as I navigate my bra in the half light. Both of us fully clothed, I open the door, but Jansen presses me against the cool wood with his body, clicking it shut again. After one last, breathless kiss, we head blinking into the light, Jansen’s promise hovering between us.Later.

Chapter 9

Clara

Walker has a carafe of coffee ready for everyone, boxes of cereal and cups scattered across the coffee table. It must be too early or too urgent for a real breakfast. A kettle whistles from the kitchen and Jansen s thanks at Walker before disappearing into the back, returning a few moments later with a pot of tea, a cup, and a trivet. If it weren’t so adorable, I might make fun of him, but he’s obviously thrilled as he sniffs the pale brew, so I leave him be.

Trips is in his usual chair, a sleepy RJ taking up the other one. A smile inches across my face as I take in his adorably sleep-squashed hair and bleary gaze as his amber-brown eyes crinkle back at me. I hope I didn’t take too long to feel like myself again. I like him too much to give up before we even started.

Because I’m a glutton, I like all my guys, and I’ve decided not to think too hard about it. If it works, it works.

If it doesn’t, well, then I’ll figure that out later. Sort of like the hum of arousal that is currently centered on my clit—later is my word of the day.

Walker hands me a cup of coffee, a dash of cream added, then passes Trips a twenty. I grin as I sit cross-legged in the middle of the couch, excited for my first big crime meeting. Is that what you would call it? A planning session? A criminal conclave? Huh. I’ll have to ask Jansen or Walker about the right terminology.

I sip the coffee as Walker settles on my left, Jansen on my right. Trips finishes fixing up his mug, his face grim. RJ doesn’t have anything to drink, but he’s scooping handfuls of Honey Nut Cheerios as he picks up his tablet. Once we’re all settled, Trips clears his throat, resting his elbows on his knees. “So Walker met the fence last night.”

RJ leans forward. “Do I need to do a sweep of the room?”

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