“You started it,” I snapped, but if I was honest (again) he was probably right – I more than likely had said something to him. My period was the biggest asshole in the history of assholes, it made Chad Vernon look like a puppy in comparison, so it wasn’t unusual for me to turn into a bitch for a couple of days because of it.
Not even acknowledging that I’d spoken, though, Raoul leaned down so that our lips were almost touching and continued, “And the war started. There hasn’t been a day since that I haven’t wanted to grab you up and kiss the shit out of you, though, baby.”
I found that hard to believe. Even though I’d felt the same way a majority of the time, I’d also had days where I wanted to hang him by his intestines from a tree. I didn’t say this to him, though, I was too focused on how close his mouth was, and the fact that I could feel his lips skimming mine when he spoke.
The longer neither of us spoke, the more the tension in the room grew, until I muttered, “Fuck it,” and pressed my mouth against his. I had a brief moment where I worried that he’d pull away from me, but then he was gently pressing me back into the mattress and moving so that the top of his body was on top of mine.
I’d had boyfriends - of course I had, I was twenty-seven years old - but I could hand to God say that none of them had ever kissed me like he was at that moment. Exploring, branding, teasing, it was all of that and more, and the way his hands moved gently over me was like he was trying to memorize my body. Almost like we were in sync, I tilted my pelvis as he shifted to move over me so that our crotches were against each other and his hard length was rested against my folds. My very wet folds.
“Jesus, you’re burning me,” he hissed, grinding down into me. Apparently I’d stripped my jeans and bra off last night, but I’d left my panties and tank top on, so all that separated us were two very thin cotton layers that were doing a poor job of hiding the effect he had on me.
Arching my back slightly meant that the tip of his cock rubbed against the hard bundle of nerves that felt like it had its own pulse at that moment, making me moan loudly, and even with a hangover from hell and the injuries to my face, I felt my muscles tightening, preparing to come. As he pulled his hips back slightly and pushed forward so that the two areas rubbed together again, I teetered on the edge of the cliff, just about to go over…
“The noise came from in here. She must still be in bed, Hogan,” a voice sounded outside my room, and then the door opened and my mom poked her head around it. “She’s… oh shit,” she gasped, slamming the door behind her. “Why don’t we put the coffee on and wait for her in the living room? It’s such a beautiful morning, we should enjoy it.”
“What? But she’s moaning, Rissa, and Ellis said she was hurt yesterday. Move out the way,” Dad snapped, and I heard the sound of something moving against my door as the two of us stared at each other in horror.
“No, we’ll make coffee.”
“No, I want to see my daughter,” Dad argued, and then cursed when there was a thud. “What was that for? That was my bad knee, woman.”
Not missing a beat, Mom went for the tactic she’d devised over their thirty-three years of marriage. “Hey, do you remember the good old days when you could refer to them as left and right? Now, they’re the good knee and the bad knee.”
“What the fuck?” Raoul whispered, looking over his shoulder in their direction.
A question Dad asked himself. “What the fuck? Woman, let me get past to see my daughter.”
“Don’t you ‘woman’ me, Hogan Beauregard. I don’t care if you’re worried about our child, you say it again and you’ll have two bad knees, do I make myself clear?”
And with that she’d won the war, because their voices faded down the hallway in the direction of the living room. Just as we both relaxed and Raoul turned back to face me, the sound of heavy footsteps came running back toward us. It was followed by my door bursting open, and then my dad came running in with Mom on his back pinching his ear. “I told you to… Oh, hello, dear,” she smiled at me, and then waved at the man who was now frozen solid on top of me. “Hello, Raoul. How are you?”