Sweetest Sin: Bad Boy Bundle (38 page)

He was getting ready to cum. And he was fighting it.

Pleasure and ecstasy rippled through me. My pussy clamped down on his cock and my body shook. His cock shivered up inside me and I knew he lost his fight. I squeezed his hands and sank my face into the mattress next to him. Still quivering. Still grinding. Milking him for every quivering second.

Shortly thereafter, I slipped off him and lay my worn out body down on the bed. Our breathing was out of control.

He stood up and started pulling his clothes back on. "You sleep here," he said. "I'm going to go pick a room that doesn't smell like sex."

I was too tired to argue with him.

CHAPTER FOUR

There was something about the morning after having great sex that made it all more invigorating. Rejuvenating, even. Sure, you were tired and weak. Knees were shaky and somehow your thighs turned to jelly. But also euphoric. Flushed. And your thoughts danced back and forth between the task at hand and the hands you tasked the night before.

I woke up tangled in the covers of Grandma's guest bedroom feeling just this way. Somewhere between sore and refreshed. Then I remembered why I was feeling so good and sated.

Oh crap,
I yelled at myself and jumped out of the bed.

Knock, knock
.

"Shit," I whispered. Was that him? What did he want? How was I going to face him? Did I really leave my clothes sitting on the floor in the bathroom?

"Angela!" Marti's voice boomed in from the hallway. "Angela let me in!"

"Ugh," I whined and straightened out my robe. "Marti, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was sleeping."

"I'll stay up all night if I have to. Sound familiar? I let you leave the programs believing you when you said you were just going to take a shower and come right back down to finish them. Instead I find your clothes in the bathroom with unused towels and you're sleeping?" Her screams were beginning to echo through the door.

I clenched my eyes shut and shook my head.

Why didn't I go back to pick up those damn clothes?

I straightened out my robe and walked up to open the door. "Calm down, Marti. You're going to get wrinkles." I said, barely looking at her as I pushed past her.

"Where the fuck are you going?"

"I am going to finish taking that shower I meant to take last night. Obviously I was exhausted when I started and I fell asleep. Contrary to what you might think, I'm not out to get you, Marti. I really do want to help. So I am just going to hop in the shower real quick and then I will finish those programs. Okay"

I didn't give her the chance to argue with me.

Not today.

Not while I was still reeling from the sex last night.

The buzz of a saw drifted in from outside. I glanced out to see Tim toiling away at the branches of the tree. His muscles rippled and shiny from sweat and his tee shirt tucked into this back pocket.

And just like that. I was wet again.

I pulled myself away from the window and turned on the water. Letting the steam fill the bathroom as I rinsed my hair. My skin pinked up under the heat. Still my thoughts centered on everything that happened last night.

What was he thinking about?

What was I thinking?

What if he wanted to do that again? Should I let him? What if everyone found out about us?

Oh God.
That last thought was probably the worst. What would they think?

The family about lost their lids when they found out about Tim and Marti 15 years ago. It was awful. And did I really want to be with a man who could literally look at me and say
that's not how your older sister did it
.

"Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew," I whispered out loud as the hot water dripped down my face.

Mud washed away from my legs, carrying away with it my dignity.

I was going to have to talk to him. To make sure that he had no further expectations. No plans for continuing on with this.

It had to be the one and only time.

It could never happen again.

And no one could ever find out.

***

"Get my car out yet?" Marti walked up to me.

I wasn't sure what kind of game she thought she was playing. But whatever it was, she wasn't going to let me work without making sure I knew what I was missing.

Her long legs made her shorts seem even shorter than they were intended. And her tank top clung to her body. Showing off every curve.

I shook my head and grabbed my shirt from my back pocket to wipe the sweat from my forehead. "I'm working on it Marti," I said.

She walked up closer and leaned against the tree. Hoisting her leg up and propping her foot up on the bumper.

I glanced down.

No panties.

I chuckled and tucked my shirt back into my pocket. "I have to get back to work," I said.

"I just thought that I would come out here and check on your progress," she said as she bent over to pretend to check the laces of her shoes.

"My progress is that I'm working on it. I'll let you know once I've finished."

"Right," she said. Disappointment loomed in her voice. I couldn't tell if she was disappointed that she couldn't ride in her car, or disappointed that she couldn't ride me. Though I guess it was more the latter.

I went back to cutting away the branches blocking her car without giving her a second glance. She stood still. Glaring at me with her mouth dropped open as she adjusted her shorts. Finally, she stormed off back into the house.

A few minutes later, Grams came outside to check on me.

"Hi Timmy," she said with a smile.

I stopped working and wiped my forehead again before leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. "Hi Grams."

"I just wanted to cheek on you and see if Marti was giving you a hard time?"

"Nah, Grams. It's fine."

"Are you sure?" She asked again.

I smiled and nodded. "Yea I'm sure."

"Would you tell me if you weren't sure?"

"Probably not," I admitted. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh I'm fine. You know me. No cancer bastard is going to knock me down."

I nodded again and tucked my shirt into my back pocket. "So, Grams. Can I ask you something? Why haven't you told anyone else yet?"

"Because everyone else would start treating me like some damned piece of china. Breakable. Fragile. They'd tie me to the bed and hire some God awful nurse to wet me down for a sponge bath every day. Then the vultures would start checking into my will. No. I won't have it. Those bastards can all find out what I'm giving them at the funeral like everyone else."

I chuckled. "If you hate them so much, why leave them anything?"

"Bite your tongue. I don't hate them. They're family and I love them."

I laughed out right and shook my head. "Of course, Grams. So why tell me? I mean, I can't do anything. I can't even take you to the hospital if something goes wrong and you have to go--."

"Oh, Timmy. I suppose it's selfish to ask you to carry such a burden. But I know you can keep a secret. And I know you won't tell the rest of them until I tell them. Meanwhile, I might need help around the house and I was hoping to guilt you into doing some of it for me." She giggled and pushed against my shoulder.

***

The further down the stairs I stepped, the lower my heart sank.

"It's about time," Marti said and huffed across the room.

"What are you auditioning for hair removal cream commercial or something?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Who wears hoe shorts?"

"You're such a bitch!" Marti shrieked and ran up the stairs.

Good. Hopefully she stays up there
. I smiled.

I reclaimed my seat at the table with the rest of the programs and set everything back out as an assembly line again. Four hours until I had to be at work. That should be plenty of time to get these done.

About halfway through assembling the programs, I happened to glance outside. Tim was still working to cut away the tree. It looked like he managed to free Marti's car. So at least that was progress. More than likely, he'd be out there the rest of the day trying to get the driveway completely cleared.

"Oh crap," I muttered, more to myself than to anyone else.

"What's the matter Angie?" Grams brought over some of that murky water she called coffee and set it down on the table for me.

"Nothing. It's just, I have to go to work today and I don't know how I'm going to get there with my car flattened under a tree."

"Well, Tim is working as fast as he can."

"Oh I know. It's not him. I just--."

"What if you called in sick?"

The screen door slammed and made me jump at that moment. I whipped my head around to see Tim striding over to the kitchen. He came back out to the table with a glass of lemonade and sat down next to Grams.

"Well, I don't think I can."

"Can what?" Tim asked.

"She doesn't think she can call in sick to work."

"Why call in sick? Just go to work? They can get the wedding plans done without you for a couple hours."

"Yea but--."

"She doesn't have a ride. Hey Timmy, you can give her a ride to work right?"

"Um," he stuttered.

"No," I said, trying to let him off the hook. "No he doesn't have to do that. It's fine. I'll try to call in sick. I'm sure it'll be fine." I got up and walked back into the kitchen to grab the phone there.

"What time do you have to be there?" Tim asked.

"What?"

He followed me into the kitchen. "What time do you have to be there?"

I glanced around the kitchen. "Two," I finally answered.

"Okay." He checked his watch. "Go ahead and try to call in sick if you want. I need to go and take a shower. When I get out, you let me know if you still need a ride. Okay?"

I nodded and he walked out of the kitchen without another word. I stared at the phone for a minute, dumbfounded by what just happened.

My stomach lurched. What was going to happen if he ended up having to give me a ride to work?

***

Damn it. How did I let Grams trap me into bringing Angela to work today? I wanted to sit and talk to Grams about what was happening to her. About what to expect. About doctor’s reports and second opinions. The last thing I wanted to do was bring some dame to work.

Not to mention the obligatory ride home.

Shit.

I was going to have to go and pick her up.

Gah.

I walked into the bathroom with some towels and turned on the hot water. I let the water rain down on my shoulders and flow down my chest.

The morning after sex is always painfully uncomfortable. The girl always wants to talk about it. To chat and find out if there was a relationship coming. And if there was no relationship planned, could there be? They all want to think they're somehow special from the others.

And this time. Fuck. What the hell was I thinking?

I blamed Marti for this. If she hadn't thrown herself all over me in the shed last night, I never would have stopped to watch Angela. And now Angela probably thinks I'm some pervert.

Easiest way to deal with this would be to ignore it. Just go about our day and not talk about it. As if it never happened. Shut it down. If Angela happened to bring it up, I would have to stop her and let her know that there is no future there. It was a one time relief effort. And after this wretched wedding, we wouldn't even have to see each other again.

Oh God, and what would Grams think if she found out? Maybe it's a good thing I'm giving Angela a ride to work today. It might be the only way I could talk to her first before she opens her mouth to anyone else.

***

Of course, going to work meant getting back into that horrible cheerleading uniform. Which I left in the bathroom. Again.

Once upon a time, there was a person who wrote
if it wasn't for bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all
. I was starting to think that whoever that person was wrote that line for me. Still, if I managed to get to work early enough, I could grab a new uniform. They would just have to take the cost out of my paycheck. Which was going to suck. But at least it would be better than showing up to work in a uniform covered in mud and lust.

"So," said Grams. "How are you doing, Angie?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you and that boy you were seeing. Wait. Don't tell me. I know you told me his name already. Mike right!"

"Michael, but yea."

"Oh well, Mike and Michael are practically the same thing."

I smiled and shrugged. I hated abbreviated names. Always have.

"So. Are we going to be planning your wedding soon? You can have it here, too, you know."

"No, Grams. There's no wedding anytime soon in my future. Michael and I broke up."

"Oh no."

"It's fine, Grams. I mean, it sucks but it's not important."

Grams took in a deep breath and shook her head. She placed her wrinkled, bony hand on my cheek and smiled. "Angie, now you listen to me. It's always important."

I smiled and pulled her cold hand away from my face. "Thanks Grams. Maybe after the weekend we can talk. I don't want to take away from Marti's day."