Page 62 of The Question of Us
“Wow.” Gazza smiled from his seat at the dining table behind three plates of sandwiches. “And I thought Samoan women took the prize for the most protective mama bears.”
I laughed mirthlessly and slumped into a chair. “I know very little about Samoan mamas, but I reckon a lesbian, Harley-Davidson-riding octogenarian with an ankle tattoo that saysNo Regretsmight just hold her own in the same room.”
Gazza laughed. “I reckon you’re right, and on that terrifying note, I vote we never ever let them meet.” He raised his hand for a high five.
I obliged. “Agreed. I take it you haven’t told your mother then?”
Gazza’s face drained of all colour. “Are you serious? Of course I haven’t told her. Half my family on my mother’s side live in Melbourne. One whiff of what we’ve got planned and they’d all be here keeping an eye on me. Or worse, trying to help. No way. My mother thinks I’ve gone to Fiji for the week.”
I choked on a laugh. “Holy shit, are you in trouble when she finds out.”
He shot me a menacing glare. “She isn’t going to find out, is she? We’re going to do this and go home all in one piece, right?”
“My lips are sealed.” I made a zipping motion across my mouth just as Nick wandered back into the living area, looking pale and somewhat cowed. Our eyes met and he winced.
“Older women are so damn bossy and Lizzie is the worst,” he grumbled. “I felt like I was twelve all over again and she isn’t even my mother. You guys have it easy.”
Gazza and I shared a look and burst out laughing.
We finished our sandwiches and cleaned up, all the while discussing Samuel’s amendments to our strategy for the party. Much to Nick’s disappointment, we couldn’t fault any of them. Having said that, Samuel wasn’t aware that Nick intended to watch Gazza from the garden and not stay in the car as we’d insinuated.
What could go wrong?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Madigan
When Gazza announcedthat he was heading to bed around eight thirty, he made a big song and dance out of telling us to keep the noise down and that we should be conserving energy and not jostling our wrinkled bodies in the bedroom, inviting a heart attack. In response, Nick chased him into his unit, waving an unimpressive paring knife, and Gazza squealed and locked the door behind him.
Mission accomplished.
A few minutes later, Nick and I rolled into bed and started streaming some inane low-budget action movie that I couldn’t have told you the name of if you’d paid me. As distractions went, it failed dismally, and it wasn’t long before Nick rolled me onto my side and pulled me back against his warm body. His knees tucked behind mine and his cock nudged gently at my crease, comforting but with little intent.
“Mmm.” I wriggled contentedly and his arm tightened around my waist, his cock firming.
He groaned and gave a little thrust, whispering, “If you don’t stop moving, you’re gonna get more than you bargained for. We’re supposed to be getting an early night.”
I thought about that very sensible reminder for all of two seconds, then rolled my arse around his groin.
He gave a filthy groan in response. “Jesus Christ. Could you be any less subtle?”
I chuckled and elbowed him gently. “Less talk, more action. I do believe you mentioned something about it being game on?”
“I have no intention of fucking you,” he murmured, nibbling his way into my hairline and along to my ear, sending my thoughts scattering. “I want to take my time with that and not be stressed about anything. Tonight is not that night.” He suckled on the lobe of my ear, sending jolts of electricity zinging to my southern regions.
“Oh god.” I groaned as his hand travelled down my belly to wrap around my dick. I wasn’t in the least disappointed in his proclamation. I wanted that too. Time and no stress. “Sounds good to me.” I gasped as he played with the head to secure a little moisture before starting a slow stroke that rocketed my arousal from casual interest to right the fuck now in about a minute flat.
“Damn, that feels amazing.” Nick’s determined cock found the warm channel of my crease and he began to rock, his breath stuttering beside my ear.
Try as I might, I couldn’t keep from thrusting into his hand, it was just too good, even if it upset his rhythm.
He gave a soft snort. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? Now, behave. You’re not running this show.” He tightened his free arm around my waist to anchor me and make his point. Then with a bit of fancy handwork and repositioning, he got us back in synch, and bliss rolled through my brain rendering me putty in his hands.
With every rock of his hips, Nick’s dick slid up my crease to graze my hole while at the same time sending my cock through his tight fist. The reverse motion was equally sensational, the drag and slide breathtaking in its ability to sever my brain from any rational thought. Senses jangling. Body on fire. His cock. His hand. His breath on my ear. His filthy groans. The scent of our sex. Too much. Too much.
“Fuck, that feels good,” Nick’s voice rumbled in my ear.
Good for him. It was four words more thanIcould manage, so I settled for a grunt that I hoped conveyed my absolute agreement and returned to focusing on the delicious sensation of being the trembling meat in some erotic sandwich I couldn’t get enough of.
