Page 94 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer
Columns??? Who does that?
Jaq argues that P.E. shouldn’t count as a real class because dodgeball is traumatic. Noah listens like he’s starving, and their voices are the only thing to satisfy.
After, he insists on doing the drop-off, which somehow turns into a parade. He walks Jaq to the curb with a hand at the back of his neck like he used to when backpacks dwarfed him. He talks to Jill about her suspension and doesn’t lecture; he asks questions that make her roll her eyes and answer anyway.
We come back to a kitchen that looks like a breakfast grenade went off. Noah rolls his sleeves and starts in without being asked. He fixes the squeak in the pantry door that’s been haunting us for months with a spritz of WD-40 and a glare that could exorcise demons. He tightens the loose handle on the junk drawer. He replaces the burnt-out bulb in the stairwell I’ve been ignoring because life is a triage unit. Then does the same with the bulbs in the garage.
I take a long shower that includes a lot of thinking, shaving, primping, and reminiscing. When I’m out and dressed for the day, I find him in the kids’ bathroom.
“That’s hot,” I say, watching him reach, stretch, disappear under a sink to terrorize a trap that gurgles like a dying walrus and reattach water lines who forgot their purpose long ago.
“Plumbing?” He grunts. “Or acts of service?”
“Yes,” I say. “Seduction by either is a thing.”
“Yeah?” His head pops out from under the cabinet and gives me a sheepish smile.
I nod. Feeling reckless. Sexy. Free.
I reach under my sundress and shimmy my panties down my thighs.
“Are you doing what I think you’re going?” He asks, a hopeful look on his face.
I bite my lip and nod again.
His sweatpants begin to tent. Making me feel powerful and in control. He starts to move from under the sink.
“Uh-uh, Detective Grant. Don’t move.”
“Detective, huh?”
I pull the band of his sweats down in front just enough to free his cock. Then I straddle him and run my already slick pussy along its length.
“Oh fuck, Elle.” He grabs my waist. I take his hands and put them back under the sink.
“You can hold the big pipe under there if you need your hands on something,” I say, already breathless.
I run my hands under his t-shirt and along the hard ridges of his chest and abs, loving the feel of how they jump under my touch. Then I reach between us to grab his cock and position it at my entrance, rise to my knees, and sink down on him with a groan.
God, he feels good.
“I need to touch you. Please let me touch you,” Noah begs.
“Touch me and I stop.” I rotate my hips with each rise and fall. Gyrating and undulating until I find that one spot that is going to bring me right to the edge.
“Oh God, Noah.”
“Elle, baby, so fucking beautiful. You take my breath away.” He’s panting.
I don’t think I’m too far from the same. I pick up my pace, more back and forth than up and down. A different feeling but no less potent.
“I’m going to come, Noah,” I cry.
“Get it, baby. Come all over my cock. Take what you need.”
My core clamps down around him as I my orgasm comes barreling forward. The force trying to push him from me.
“Fuck, yes,” Noah moans. “There you go baby; you take it all.”
