Kick, Push
Page 24
“So you’d be there… with her.”
He nods. “And our kids.”
“Is she pretty?” I ask, even though I really, really don’t want to know.
He shrugs. And it’s all I need to push him out of the way. He doesn’t let me though. He stands in front of me, his shoulders squared. “What’s wrong?”
I drop my gaze. “Don’t be dumb. You know what’s wrong.”
“Say it.”
I glare right at him.
“Say it,” he says again, smirking this time.
“Say what?”
“You’re jealous.”
“You’re mean.”
He chuckles lightly and bends down so his mouth’s to my ear. “You’re crazy cute when you’re jealous.”
“Shut up,” I try to say, but it’s barely a squeak because his bare chest and arms are wrapped around me now, forcing all the air out of my lungs.
“So cute,” he murmurs, his mouth on my neck. “I was kidding, by the way. She’s like forty and goes to church with your grams.”
I push against his chest but he doesn’t move, just chuckles louder and a second later I’m being lifted onto the washer.
“Why would you make me feel like that?” I whisper.
He settles between my legs and pulls me closer to him. “Like what?”
“Josh…”
“I’m sorry,” he says, but he’s not. I can see it in the stupid smirk and the stupid amusement dancing in his eyes.
“No you’re not.”
“So I like it that you got jealous. Sue me.” His hands drift down my back and settle on my ass while his eyes drop to my chest. And the amusement in his eyes is gone and replaced with something else completely. He licks his lips, his eyes moving to mine.
“What?” I whisper.
He squeezes my ass, pulling me fully against him. “You know what.”
I curse my hands when they move, almost on their own, to his bare chest, the tips of my fingers warming from the heat of his skin as I lower them to his stomach—my gaze following my movements.
With one hand on my back, the other in my hair now, he tugs lightly and tilts my head back. His lips lower; already parted when they cover mine and my eyes drift closed just as he kicks the door shut and reaches over to switch the light off. “Let’s play in the dark,” he says, and there’s absolutely nothing sexier than feeling him between my legs, his breaths warm and heavy against my neck and his hands everywhere all at once. The sounds of my breaths mingle with his while his mouth trails from my mouth down to my neck, kissing every inch like he kisses me. I run my hands all over his torso, his shoulders, his arms. Goddamn, his arms. His muscles flex beneath my touch. His hands are on my thighs now, moving higher and taking the hem of my skirt with them. His kisses are soft against my throat, and my legs tense when I feel his fingers skim the fabric of my panties. “Fuck,” he spits, pulling away and gasping for breath. I take the opportunity to return the favor and kiss down his neck to his shoulder. His fingers dig into my thighs as I lick down his chest until I find his nipple. My tongue flicks across it, eliciting a deep guttural moan from him. “Jesus, shit,” he whispers, cupping my face. His thumb searches for my mouth in the darkness of the room and when I open my mouth and wrap my lips around his thumb, he loses it.
We both do.
Our lips crash together, our hands searching for something, anything. Between our frenzied kisses, we gasp for air. His hand covers one of my breasts, squeezing gently and my hips jerk at his touch but it just makes it worse because now I can feel him hard against my sex. He’s pushing into me and I’m pushing back and he’s kissing me harder until I’m forced against the wall behind me. My hands skim down to his stomach and—“Shit.”
His thumb rubs against my panties, between my legs, slowly moving up and down.
My hips jerk forward. The backs of my fingers run through the tuft of hair just above the band of his boxers—the band I’m slowly lowering…
He whispers another “fuck” as he pulls down on my top, revealing my bra. His lips, wet, skim the top of my breast just as my hands find their way to his—
“Daddy!”
“DAMMIT, TOMMY!”
14
-Joshua-
I double check the measurements against the list Chazarae had given me as I stand in the middle of the driveway planning out my day. Soft hands cover my eyes and Becca’s breasts press against my back. “Morning,” she whispers and I can’t help but smile. I turn slowly, removing her hand at the same time. The morning sun beats down on her, making her skin glow and her eyes the brightest shade of green. “Morning.” I kiss her quickly, not wanting my mind or my body to remember how her lips made me feel last night. You know… until Tommy ruined it all. “How’d you sleep?”
She shrugs and glances at Tommy scooting up and down the driveway. “I missed you.”
I cup her neck and run my thumb across her throat, waiting for her to tilt her head back before leaning down and kissing it. “Me too.”
“Next Friday, right?” she says, her hands fisting my shirt.
“The next week is going to be so slow.”
“It’ll be worth it.”
A delivery truck pulls into the driveway and I open the gate for it. Chazarae had asked me to build some garden beds in the back yard for her and Tommy so that’s how I’m spending my weekend—which I guess will help keep my mind and my hands off Becca.
I wait for the truck to reverse into the driveway and introduce myself to the driver when he hops out. “Brad,” he says, shaking my hand, but his eyes are on Becca and Tommy sitting on the porch steps blowing bubbles. His gaze moves from her face to her legs and back again.
I’ve never wanted to punch someone. Hunter and I have come close a couple times but that’s just boys being boys. But this guy—I want to punch him. And if he keeps looking at Becca the way he is, I will.
Because I’m frustrated.
Emotionally.
Sexually.
All of it.
We unload the truck. Well, I do. He’s too busy looking at her. “You want to do your job or should I just keep doing it for you?” I snap, taking another bag of soil from his truck.
He’s silent as he finally looks away, his eyes narrowed, before he grabs the end of a piece of timber.
It doesn’t last long though. A couple minutes later I catch him doing it again. And I’ve had enough. I drop the supplies and for a moment question whether or not I can actually take him. He’s a few years older, but I’m bigger. Plus, I have a reason to fight. He doesn’t. I take the steps to get to him and his eyes widen when my fists ball his collar and I shove him against his truck.
“What’s your problem?” he says, like I’m the one with the fucking problem.
I glance at Becca quickly—she’s rushing Tommy in the house and calling out to her grandmother. My fists ball tighter. “You’re my fucking problem.”
“Josh,” Becca calls out, her voice strained. She steps up beside me now, her hands on my chest pushing me away. “Stop, babe.”
I release my hands but not my anger. “Quit fucking looking at her.”
He nods. “And our kids.”
“Is she pretty?” I ask, even though I really, really don’t want to know.
He shrugs. And it’s all I need to push him out of the way. He doesn’t let me though. He stands in front of me, his shoulders squared. “What’s wrong?”
I drop my gaze. “Don’t be dumb. You know what’s wrong.”
“Say it.”
I glare right at him.
“Say it,” he says again, smirking this time.
“Say what?”
“You’re jealous.”
“You’re mean.”
He chuckles lightly and bends down so his mouth’s to my ear. “You’re crazy cute when you’re jealous.”
“Shut up,” I try to say, but it’s barely a squeak because his bare chest and arms are wrapped around me now, forcing all the air out of my lungs.
“So cute,” he murmurs, his mouth on my neck. “I was kidding, by the way. She’s like forty and goes to church with your grams.”
I push against his chest but he doesn’t move, just chuckles louder and a second later I’m being lifted onto the washer.
“Why would you make me feel like that?” I whisper.
He settles between my legs and pulls me closer to him. “Like what?”
“Josh…”
“I’m sorry,” he says, but he’s not. I can see it in the stupid smirk and the stupid amusement dancing in his eyes.
“No you’re not.”
“So I like it that you got jealous. Sue me.” His hands drift down my back and settle on my ass while his eyes drop to my chest. And the amusement in his eyes is gone and replaced with something else completely. He licks his lips, his eyes moving to mine.
“What?” I whisper.
He squeezes my ass, pulling me fully against him. “You know what.”
I curse my hands when they move, almost on their own, to his bare chest, the tips of my fingers warming from the heat of his skin as I lower them to his stomach—my gaze following my movements.
With one hand on my back, the other in my hair now, he tugs lightly and tilts my head back. His lips lower; already parted when they cover mine and my eyes drift closed just as he kicks the door shut and reaches over to switch the light off. “Let’s play in the dark,” he says, and there’s absolutely nothing sexier than feeling him between my legs, his breaths warm and heavy against my neck and his hands everywhere all at once. The sounds of my breaths mingle with his while his mouth trails from my mouth down to my neck, kissing every inch like he kisses me. I run my hands all over his torso, his shoulders, his arms. Goddamn, his arms. His muscles flex beneath my touch. His hands are on my thighs now, moving higher and taking the hem of my skirt with them. His kisses are soft against my throat, and my legs tense when I feel his fingers skim the fabric of my panties. “Fuck,” he spits, pulling away and gasping for breath. I take the opportunity to return the favor and kiss down his neck to his shoulder. His fingers dig into my thighs as I lick down his chest until I find his nipple. My tongue flicks across it, eliciting a deep guttural moan from him. “Jesus, shit,” he whispers, cupping my face. His thumb searches for my mouth in the darkness of the room and when I open my mouth and wrap my lips around his thumb, he loses it.
We both do.
Our lips crash together, our hands searching for something, anything. Between our frenzied kisses, we gasp for air. His hand covers one of my breasts, squeezing gently and my hips jerk at his touch but it just makes it worse because now I can feel him hard against my sex. He’s pushing into me and I’m pushing back and he’s kissing me harder until I’m forced against the wall behind me. My hands skim down to his stomach and—“Shit.”
His thumb rubs against my panties, between my legs, slowly moving up and down.
My hips jerk forward. The backs of my fingers run through the tuft of hair just above the band of his boxers—the band I’m slowly lowering…
He whispers another “fuck” as he pulls down on my top, revealing my bra. His lips, wet, skim the top of my breast just as my hands find their way to his—
“Daddy!”
“DAMMIT, TOMMY!”
14
-Joshua-
I double check the measurements against the list Chazarae had given me as I stand in the middle of the driveway planning out my day. Soft hands cover my eyes and Becca’s breasts press against my back. “Morning,” she whispers and I can’t help but smile. I turn slowly, removing her hand at the same time. The morning sun beats down on her, making her skin glow and her eyes the brightest shade of green. “Morning.” I kiss her quickly, not wanting my mind or my body to remember how her lips made me feel last night. You know… until Tommy ruined it all. “How’d you sleep?”
She shrugs and glances at Tommy scooting up and down the driveway. “I missed you.”
I cup her neck and run my thumb across her throat, waiting for her to tilt her head back before leaning down and kissing it. “Me too.”
“Next Friday, right?” she says, her hands fisting my shirt.
“The next week is going to be so slow.”
“It’ll be worth it.”
A delivery truck pulls into the driveway and I open the gate for it. Chazarae had asked me to build some garden beds in the back yard for her and Tommy so that’s how I’m spending my weekend—which I guess will help keep my mind and my hands off Becca.
I wait for the truck to reverse into the driveway and introduce myself to the driver when he hops out. “Brad,” he says, shaking my hand, but his eyes are on Becca and Tommy sitting on the porch steps blowing bubbles. His gaze moves from her face to her legs and back again.
I’ve never wanted to punch someone. Hunter and I have come close a couple times but that’s just boys being boys. But this guy—I want to punch him. And if he keeps looking at Becca the way he is, I will.
Because I’m frustrated.
Emotionally.
Sexually.
All of it.
We unload the truck. Well, I do. He’s too busy looking at her. “You want to do your job or should I just keep doing it for you?” I snap, taking another bag of soil from his truck.
He’s silent as he finally looks away, his eyes narrowed, before he grabs the end of a piece of timber.
It doesn’t last long though. A couple minutes later I catch him doing it again. And I’ve had enough. I drop the supplies and for a moment question whether or not I can actually take him. He’s a few years older, but I’m bigger. Plus, I have a reason to fight. He doesn’t. I take the steps to get to him and his eyes widen when my fists ball his collar and I shove him against his truck.
“What’s your problem?” he says, like I’m the one with the fucking problem.
I glance at Becca quickly—she’s rushing Tommy in the house and calling out to her grandmother. My fists ball tighter. “You’re my fucking problem.”
“Josh,” Becca calls out, her voice strained. She steps up beside me now, her hands on my chest pushing me away. “Stop, babe.”
I release my hands but not my anger. “Quit fucking looking at her.”
