Page 76 of Hold Still

A shaky hand runs through her hair. “Really? Like what? I mean, I want you to keep pumping.” Her fingers trail down the center of my chest, stopping at my belt buckle.

My cock strains against my zipper. Grabbing her hand and abandoning it on top of my hardness, I kiss her neck. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

She squeezes and I nearly jump out of the chair. Groaning, I encourage her. The buckle opens and she pulls my cock out, her hand running its length. At the top, she stops and swirls her thumb over the drop of pre-cum that’s leaked. She brings it to her mouth.

“Mmmm.”

The doorbell rings.

I drop my head backward. “Fuck. Dinner’s here.”

She giggles and jumps off me. “I’ll get it. You better stay here and take care of him.” She points to my cock, which is pleading for her to continue what she was doing.

While she gets our dinner, I take off my sneakers. I want my dessert before the main course today. Besides, I’m not sure I could stand unless it was to plow into her tight body.

Rustling of bags snags my attention. McKenna asks, “Want to eat out here?”

“I definitely want to eat you out here.”

She squeaks and drops the bags onto the table. “You’re not dressed.”

“But you are. Let me change that.” And I do.

Much later, we sit with our feet in the swimming pool, all of our appetites fulfilled for the moment. My eyes roam over McKenna’s body, for the first time noting the similarities between her and Teresa. While Teresa was short and skinny with huge tits, brown hair and brown eyes, McKenna’s curvy. More to hold onto, in my book. Plus, her hair is more imaginative, if that’s the word for it, since she’s always changing up the color streak. It’s part of her style and flair. And her eyes. Brown, yes, but more of a latte that change with her mood—blazing when she’s feisty, darker when she’s horny, dancing when she’s happy. No. She’s all woman with deeply-held responsibilities where Teresa was a girl.

“Penny.”

“What?”

She taps my forehead. “A penny for your thoughts.”

I smile. “I was thinking you’re all woman, and I’m really glad that you’re all mine.”

Her teeth overtake her bottom lip. “You sure know how to woo a girl.” She stands. “Let’s get some work done before you try to get in my pants again.”

We both get to our feet and head inside. Instead of heading down the hallway toward the music room, McKenna turns toward the office. “Let’s work in here for a change, okay?”

I shrug. Doesn’t matter much to me so long as I have McKenna and my guitar with me. In that order. Smiling as I make my way to the music room, I gather my guitar, sheet music and a pencil. For a day that started out like shit, it sure has turned around. All because of McKenna.

Entering the office, I stop as if I hit a brick wall. McKenna’s expressive eyes now are nearly slits and she’s holding out the drugs Ginger left for me.

“What’s this?” she demands, shaking the container. The pills clink inside the bottle.

I reach for it but she pulls away. “Just something Ginger left for me and Luis. Thought it would help us write better, I guess.”

For each step I take toward her, she takes another backward. Abandoning our dance, she holds her ground. Eyeing me up and down, she asks, “And did you?”

“Partake?” I shake my head. “No.” Her expression remains the same—all jerky movements, quick breaths and rigid posture. I grab for the pills again. “What’s up?”

She swallows, and her throat expands and contracts. She seems to weigh her responses, finally saying, “I don’t want drugs near me. Anything stronger than an Advil is forbidden.”

Forbidden? “Listen, it’s not like I do them all the time.”

“You were high at Rose and Cole’s wedding.”

“Well, yeah, but I needed the escape. I had just signed the divorce settlement.” And made a ten million-dollar wire transfer.

“Not an excuse.”

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