The Sister (The Boss 6)

When we’d recovered enough to move, I disentangled our numb limbs, and Neil’s cock gently eased out. Before I could move, El-Mudad was between my legs, again, lowering his head to my pussy. Neil’s cum gushed from me, hot and wet, and El-Mudad lapped it up with his tongue, swirling the silky fluid all over me, groaning in appreciation.

Neil locked his legs around El-Mudad’s back. “God, yes. Make her come while you swallow every drop.”

My thighs trembled. The wetness of El-Mudad’s mouth, Neil’s cum, and my own arousal all mingled together. El-Mudad fucked me with his tongue and rubbed my clit with his thumb. I came with a loud, unrestrained shriek of mingled release and overstimulation.

El-Mudad sat back on his heels and helped me to move off of Neil. I remembered just in time that my nightgown was wet, and made a hasty decision to fall backward on the bed. I looked down in dismay at the sticky mess. El-Mudad’s cum had settled like loose pearls over the burnished silk of my nightie.

My breath caught. It was so beautiful.

El-Mudad leaned over as if to take me in his arms, but I stopped him. “Wait. Get your phone and take a picture. It’s so pretty. Hurry, before it sinks in.”

He wiped his glistening face as he fumbled on the bedside table to grab his phone. He tried one without the flash, then one with, but they didn’t do the sight justice.

I looked over to Neil, who still laid beside me, breathing heavily. He didn’t open his eyes as he gave us an exhausted smile.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, nudging him.

“The two of you. Taking pictures of a stained nightgown.”

I leaned up on my elbows. “If you don’t put it on Instagram, did it ever really exist?”

El-Mudad laughed and pulled me against him for a kiss, ruined nightgown and all.

Chapter Ten

On Tuesday afternoon, after several rough drafts, false starts, and changes of mind, I’d sent Susan an email inviting her to dinner with us any night but Friday. She’d responded within a few hours, suggesting that we make it Thursday, and I’d breathed a sigh of relief that it would be such a long way off.

Then, Thursday arrived.

“Are you sure you don’t mind us ditching you for a little bit?” I asked El-Mudad as the car turned onto Fifth Avenue. We’d flown into the city together, but he wouldn’t stay with Neil and me for the dinner. We’d decided that explaining his presence would be one more complication for an already complex evening.

El-Mudad shook his head, gracious as ever. “I told you, I will be fine. It will be nice to visit with Grace.”

A surprising shock of jealousy spiked through me. I wanted to demand to know who this “Grace” was, even though he’d volunteered the information. Grace was a friend of his ex-wife’s. She and El-Mudad were still on friendly terms. There was nothing sinister in that.

The intercom crackled, and the driver’s voice announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Elwood, we’ve arrived,” as the car pulled to a stop.

“Thank you.” Neil hit the button. I sat squished between him and El-Mudad, and I got even more squished as they leaned in for a goodbye kiss.

I laughed and pushed them apart then left a territorial lipstick mark on El-Mudad’s cheek. “Be good. I’ll text when the coast is clear.”

“I am at your beck and call,” he promised, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips.

The driver opened the door. Neil got out and offered me his hand, saying to the chauffeur, “Take Mr. Ati wherever he’d like. He’s in charge for the rest of the evening.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” El-Mudad called.

We waited on the sidewalk until the car began to pull away. Still smiling, barely moving his lips, Neil said, “I don’t like Grace.”

“I don’t, either,” I agreed with a laugh, and put my arm around his waist. “Come on.”

When I’d made the arrangements with Susan, it had seemed practical to suggest our apartment as a meeting place. What we wanted to talk about was a topic that was too serious to brook interruption by servers or the chatter of other diners. But when we entered the lobby, every click of my heels on the marble floor increased my dread. What if Susan and Travis thought I was trying to show off? Flaunt my wealth in front of them?

“Sophie?” Neil asked, following me into the elevator. “You’re rather pale.”

I touched my face gingerly. “Am I? I tried this new internet trick where you put powder on and then dunk your face—”

“No, I meant you look…unsteady.” He cupped my cheek and tilted my face up, his eyes scanning mine. “Are you going to be able to do this?”

I gently turned away from his touch. I didn’t want to jerk away or seem like I was angry with him. I wasn’t. But I didn’t like knowing that he was watching me as though I were a ticking time bomb or something.