Page 107 of Summer People
I also have a feeling I know who’s responsible for all of this, but I’ve yet to confirm it.
I close out of the email and will my heart not to pound at the idea of having to leave the island. TheGreaseperformance is this weekend. I guess I’ll have to head to Boston once that’s over.
Though the thought fills me with trepidation, there’s pride there too. Because I did it. I got the part. Another new beginning. Another chance to discover who I am now that I’m no longer the Hollywood starlet who arrived on that trash boat almost three months ago.
Light on my toes, I collect my things and rush out the door, determined to enjoy every minute I have left with my two favorite people.
When I walk into the house, Bing doesn’t run to the door, which means Sutton is asleep and he’s curled up in bed with her. Fisher must have his headphones on too, because he doesn’t peek out to greet me. I take my time putting my bag in his room and then head for his office with my Kindle in hand.
I peek into Sutton’s room, and when Bing catches sight of me, he lifts his head, on guard. Though an instant later, when my identity registers, he settles at the foot of her bed. Like I thought, she’s fast asleep, the rainbow moon lamp beside her bed bathing her innocent face in a soft glow. I stare at her for a few seconds, a smile on my lips. I love this little girl something fierce.
When I push the door to Fisher’s office open, he turns, his lips hooking into a smile. He pulls the headphones down around his neck and motions for me to come closer. “You have a nice shower?”
I drop my Kindle onto the couch and climb into his lap. “So good.” I snuggle into his chest, inhaling him. He’s wearing one of his old Boston Revs shirts that’s so soft because of how worn in it is.
He runs his hands up and down my back, inadvertently hitting the tender skin caused by my time in the sun and causing me to wince. Hands coming to a stop, he studies me, and when I smile, his expression relaxes. “I’ve got a little more work to do, but then I want you in my bed so I can inspect your sunburn.”
“Oh, you want me naked?” I say, all tease and innocence.
Fisher shakes his head. “You aren’t getting rewarded for not taking care of yourself.”
“Oh, are you going to punish me, Hacker?” I tease.
He chuckles, the sound deep and dark, vibrating through me. “Wouldn’t you like that?”
“Actually.” With my lip caught between my teeth, I slide off his lap and onto the floor. The hardwood bites into my knees, but I relish the pain as I press my palms against his thighs. “What I’d like more is this.”
I tug at the waistband of his sweats, but he grasps my wrists, stopping me.
“What are you doing?” Even as he asks, his dark eyes go molten and he spreads his thighs a bit.
“Playing.” I tug out of his grip and pull on the drawstring at his waist.
The sweatpants come off easily, partially due to the way he lifts his hips to allow me to take control.
His cock grows under my gaze, and by the time I’ve pulled his slippers off and he’s naked from the waist down, thighs spread wide, bracketing my shoulders, he’s completely hard.
I grin up at him. “Go back to work. I can keep myself entertained.” I lean in and press my lips to his crown, kissing gently.
He hisses out a “fuck” and shifts, causing the chair to roll backward and bump into the desk.
“Shh,” I tease him. “If you’re going to be noisy, I’ll have to find another way to keep you quiet.”
I suck him into my mouth and hollow my cheeks, suctioning with force, and I don’t release him until he’s groaning loudly.
“I think I’d like that,” he grumbles.
I pull back and wiggle out of my pink panties, then ball them up and shove the damp fabric into his mouth. When his eyes widen in surprise, a thrill races down my spine.
With a final grin at him, I get back to work, sucking and jacking him. All the while, I can’t decide what I want to focus on more: his gorgeous wet cock or his heated gaze. He looks unbelievably hot with my panties stuffed into his mouth, his brown eyes eclipsed by blown-out pupils and a hazy desire.
I’m sucking hard again, one hand cupping his balls, when he spits my panties out. “Fuck this.” He yanks open the drawer beside him and pulls out a set of metal handcuffs.
I gasp, and heat pools low in my belly. He promised weeks ago that he’d use them on me, and now he’s finally following through.
I’m still giddy at the prospect, lost in a haze of lust, when he lifts me and lumbers toward the futon.
“You’re not the only one who gets to play,” he rasps as he lowers me onto the cushion. With one knee planted beside me, he flips open one cuff with a single fluid flick, unlocking a new kink inside me. Then, with a kiss to my pulse point, he locks it around my wrist. “Too tight?” He searches my face, a hint of concern creeping into the lustful look.
