I guess he was only half-sleeping too, probably thinking the same thing I was—that she’s a runner.
“Mmm, what’d you order?” she asks, stretching her arms overhead. My eyes trace over her nude form, appreciating the way her nipples peek out over the top of the sheet.
“Eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit, croissants. I didn’t know what you’d want so I kinda got it all,” he admits, sounding a bit unsure whether that was the right thing to do. “We already have coffee. Or smoothie stuff, if you’d rather.” Though I doubt she realizes it, he’s laying it on thickly, damn near rolling out the red carpet for Kayla. I haven’t seen him do that in… well, honestly, ever. It’s a neon sign that he feels this is special too, though he would rather gnaw off his own arm than admit to something so ooey-gooey.
“That sounds delicious,” she murmurs. “Let me go to the restroom first, though.” She looks left at me, then right at Riggs, like she’s seeing who’s going to let her outof the bed. Neither of us moves. When she looks back to me, I arch a brow, wanting to see what she’ll do. I’m hoping she crawls over me, so I can feel her sweet pussy for a moment, but if she gives that gift to Riggs, I won’t be upset about it. Instead, she laughs. “You two are ridiculous.”
She throws the sheet off and climbs out the foot of the bed, leaving Riggs and me naked and hard as she disappears into my bathroom.
We meet eyes, silently having a conversation about last night and confirming our plan for this morning. First, breakfast. Second, fuck Kayla again. Third, don’t scare her.
“I’m gonna hit the head. Meet you in the kitchen?” he says, standing up. He stretches too, his back cracking several times before walking off, his dick proceeding him like a knight getting ready for the joust.
I chuckle, then get up myself. In the bathroom, I find Kayla bent over the sink, washing her face. She meets my gaze in the mirror, her eyes bright blue as water drops run down her cheeks. She’s naked in more than one way, like her guard is down, her defenses crumbled. But that’s temporary with a woman like Kayla, whose walls are built high and strong, fortified with the steel of painful experiences. It’s a good thing I’m not a wrecking ball because that’d only leave her in ruins, and I don’t want that. No, I plan to chip away at her armor tiny bit by tiny bit until there’s a doorway. One that she opens and welcomes me through.
“Want a T-shirt?” I offer.
“I thought you’d want me to eat breakfast naked.”
I tilt my head like I’m considering that option, ormore accurately, picturing it. “I would love that, but the idea of you wearing my shirt has its own appeal. Besides, it’ll drive Riggs crazy.” I grin playfully.
“Ooh, you’re bad,” she purrs.
I nod, agreeing. “The worst.”
While she dries her face, I pull on loose athletic shorts, then she lets me slip one of my T-shirts over her head. Mind you, it’s not some plain tee. Oh, no, I’m better than that. It’s a Devils T-shirt with my name on the back. Not quite a jersey, but the next best thing. “Make sure you do a little twirl for him, ‘kay?” I swat her butt as she passes by, and she whips her head around to glare at me, but there’s a spark in her eye. She’s faking the anger, but not the sass. “Your ass sore?” I taunt. I saw her smooth, peachy skin when she was bent over the sink. There’s no remnants of what we did last night, at least not physically.
“No,” she says primly, her chin lifted defiantly in the air. Is she daring me to do more? Maybe, and I love that she’s so… proud.
“Hmm, too bad. I was going to offer to kiss it all better.” With that, I walk past her, leaving her to follow me to the kitchen, which works out perfectly because I get to see Riggs’s reaction to Kayla in my shirt first-hand.
“You motherfucker,” he grouses. “Well played, asshole.”
In the end, it doesn’t matter because Kayla’s out of the shirt in minutes as we feed her strawberries and whipped cream by hand, with her sucking the whipped cream from our fingers like she’s sucking our dicks.
“Wicked woman,” Riggs tells her.
“What’re you gonna do about it?” she challenges.
“This.” That’s all the warning I give her before spreading my share of the sticky cream directly on her tits. Riggs follows my lead, putting a dollop on her other side. We tease her nipples with the tips of the strawberries, biting the fruit and her tender flesh in turn. We lick every bit of the whipped cream off until she’s shifting in the chair, her pussy wanting the same treatment.
“Get on the table,” I order, helping her do as I say.
She lies back, her legs spread in invitation. Riggs and I look at each other, both wanting to taste her and neither of us willing to concede to the other. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
“Just take turns,” Kayla moans, her hips lifting as she frantically seeks relief.
Riggs swallows thickly but nods once. I shrug, always down for new experiences, and then dive in first.
I flatten my tongue, wanting her juices to coat its entirety, and lick a meandering, side to side line across her pussy and up to her clit. “Fuck, she’s delicious, man. Get in here.”
I move back, letting Riggs get closer. I can’t see what he does to her, only the back of his head, but Kayla’s stomach contracts so I know she enjoys it. He stays there, between her thighs, until I tap his shoulder. “My turn,” I remind him.
We quickly find a rhythm that keeps us both satisfied and has Kayla clawing at the table’s slick surface. When it’s Riggs’s turn, I suck Kayla’s juices from my fingers, contented with the sweet taste of her. When I’m between her legs, he does the same, telling her how good she’s doing for us.
It doesn’t take long until she’s on the edge for Riggs, and I help her come even harder by plucking her nippleswhile she cries out. When she sags from the orgasm’s intensity, I expect her to lie there and recover, but she surges up instantly.
“Now it’s my turn,” she declares, reaching for my shorts and Riggs’s at the same time. In seconds, she’s got us both in hand, teasing along our lengths simultaneously.
