"Ace," she moans my name. "Fuck me." She doesn't have to tell me again as my hips push her deeper into the door. The sound of skin-on-skin slapping fills the room along with our moans. "I'm going to . . ." She wraps her arms around my neck as she comes with my name on her lips. "Ace."
"Baby." I moan out and I'm about to come.
"In my mouth," she says as she wiggles off me and falls to her knees in front of me. "Yes," she says, taking me into her mouth.
"Baby," I say as my hips move to fuck her mouth, and here in the middle of the entryway, I come in her mouth. She swallows everything I have, only getting up when I'm done. "Shelby.” I say her name, and she kisses under my chin.
"Now you can take me into the room and fuck me like you said before." She walks past me, and I watch her walk up the stairs, following her where I fuck her exactly like I said I would. Over and over, all night long, we catch up on the week we didn't see each other.
"Get out." She pushes me out of the shower after I make her come on my fingers. "And go make me something to eat."
"I got something for you to eat right here." I point down at my cock that is ready for another round.
"Go," she says, closing the shower door on me. "Food." I grab a towel and dry myself off before wrapping it around my waist. I get to the kitchen, and it falls to the floor, so I put it over my shoulder. "Are you cooking my food?" she yells, and I hear the shower turn off.
I laugh, turning and pulling things out of the fridge. I walk over to the living room, grabbing the remote and turning on the television. My eyes are on the television when I see the front door open out of the corner of my eyes, and everything happens in slow motion.
"It's fine," Clarabella says. Then her eyes turn to me, and she yells out, "Oh my God!”
She turns around, smacking into Presley, who stands there with an open mouth. "Oh my God." My hand drops to cover my cock.
"Damn, Ace, you've been hitting the gym hard," Presley comments, looking at me up and down like I'm a piece of meat. I'm about to yell for Shelby when I look up and see her.
"Jesus Christ." I hear Shelby from the top of the stairs with a towel wrapped around her, her wet hair dripping everywhere. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"You didn't answer your phone," Clarabella says, holding her hand to block herself from looking my way. "We didn't know if you were drowning in your sorrows."
"She definitely swallowed something last night," Presley teases, smirking at me. "From the looks of it"—she looks at Clarabella—"it was big," she whispers but in a loud tone.
"Why are you naked?" Shelby looks at me. "What happened to your towel?"
"It fell off, so I threw it over my shoulder," I say. "Can everyone turn around so I can cover myself?"
Presley just rolls her eyes. "We've already seen the family jewels," she replies, turning around. Clarabella had already turned around. I grab the towel from the floor and wrap it around myself.
"I'm going to go," I say, walking to the stairs and stopping in front of Shelby. "Maybe next time you can put a sock on the door so they know."
"I'm changing the code," she tells me, smiling at me. "Love you," she says, and Clarabella and Presley gasp and look over at us. "I didn't." She starts to stutter. "It's like a friendly I love you. Like you know, love you." She puts her hand on her forehead.
"Smooth," Clarabella says.
"I told the milkman I loved him today," Presley deadpans. "And then the Amazon delivery guy got there, and I was like thank you, I love you. Happens all the time." She motions with her hand like it's nothing.
"Love you, too," I whisper, leaning down and kissing her lips. "And not in a friendly way." Her eyes light up even brighter. "Now get rid of your sisters."
"We are right here," Clarabella reminds me, huffing.
"We brought food," Presley bribes, "but we left it in the car."
"We need food," Shelby says to us. "Go put clothes on." She motions with her head.
"If you need his jeans and boxers," Clarabella says. "They are over there." She points with her finger.
"I'll get it," Shelby states. "You go to my room."
I nod at her and walk to her bedroom, still hearing their conversation. "Why does the whole house smell like sex?" Clarabella asks. "This is what a brothel must smell like."
"I'm not eating anywhere in this house," Presley gripes. "His balls could have literally touched every surface in this house, and I'm not going to eat there. No, thank you."