Any other time I might have ridden out my pleasure like that, with her hot tongue against my dick and watery eyes staring upat me with barely controlled want, but she was close too. She was so close, and it took me no work at all to shove her to the floor, onto her back. Cum still leaked out of my cock when I made a home for myself between her legs, licking a wet stripe up her leaking pussy before sealing my mouth around her clit.
She grabbed my hair and arched into me, fingers of her other hand scrabbling against the floor. I teased two fingers into her, searched out that precious soft spot inside of her, and that was the end of it for us both. Sophie came hot against my mouth, and I kept at her until she shoved me off with a desperate groan. My chin dripped with her arousal, and I wiped it off with the back of my hand as I flopped over onto the floor beside her, my dick still out. She had never taken her fingers out of my hair, and she petted my head with a pleased little moan.
“Daniel, I’ve got to be honest. That was an amazing foot massage.”
I chuckled and nodded. “I’m glad you approve.”
A knock on the door yanked me out of the post-orgasm haze I loved. Groaning, I rolled onto all fours, tucked my cock back into my pants, then pushed myself to my feet. Sophie was an angel, sprawled on the floor, flush with pleasure. I held out my hand to help her up, but she shook her head. “Not yet.”
I hummed, stepping over her to go get our dinner.
When I returned, she had composed herself back on the couch. She’d set up the little tray we used when we ate in the living room instead of the dining room, and she’d refilled both of our glasses of wine. She’d even magicked a hairbrush from somewhere and had already started working through the tangles from her shower. She patted the corner of the couch that had become mine, and I sank down beside her, wondering if it was possible for life to be any better than this.
CHAPTER 5
FINN
When I got home from the paint store, Riggs and Smith were there. I knew they would be. I’d agreed to it, and Smith was a Covington, which made him a man of his word. He had on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, a fair match to the outfit his boyfriend wore, though Riggs—with his long hair and tattoos—made it look much more rugged than my brother ever could.
The first time I’d met Riggs wasn’t great. I’d been on the tail end of an argument with Neil and wasn’t in the best mood when I ran into the two of them. I’d had maybe a little too much to drink, and I’d honestly been very surprised coming face to face with the man Smith had just told us about. I’d had a picture of him in my head which didn’t come close to matching the actual man, and I’d acted immaturely about the whole thing.
That was months ago, and Smith had refused to bring Riggs around, so I’d had no chance to apologize. Rather, I could have, but searching out his name to find his tattoo shop and showing up unannounced felt like stalker behavior, and I didn’t think I’d acted egregiously enough to warrant that kind of groveling. I knew if Smith was really serious about him, he’d show up again sooner or later and I’d have my opportunity.
“Can you take this in?” I asked my brother, shoving the cans of paint into his waiting hands. He grabbed them with ease, stepping out of the way so I could get the key into the front door.
“Are you not coming?” he asked when I kicked the door open.
“I want to talk to your boyfriend first.”
“I’m not?—”
“It’s fine,” Riggs said before Smith could protest.
“It’s fine,” I told Smith, who looked between both of us with a pursed mouth before Riggs gave him some unspoken sign that must have confirmed he wasn’t going to murder me on my own porch.
Smith took the paint into the house, and I shoved my hands into my pockets, suddenly unable to look Riggs in the eye.
“Thank you for coming over on your day off,” I said.
“I’d do anything for Smith.”
I swallowed hard. “I know, and so would I…I also…” Fuck, this was unnecessarily difficult. It wasn’t like I’d never apologized for bad behavior before. I’d done plenty of it with Neil and Annette, and back further to Marshall and Hunter. I wasn’t one of those men who didn’t have it in him to admit he’d been wrong, but there was something about the embarrassment of the whole thing that made this specific apology much harder to get through.
“I’m sorry,” I finally blurted. “There’s nothing else to say and no way around it.”
Riggs arched a thick, dark brow at me. “Sorry for what?”
“Are you serious?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and he nodded.
Oh, Smith had his hands full with this one. Or maybe it was the other way around. I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t think I wanted to be.
“I just appreciate specificity,” Riggs said. “It helps avoid confusion.”
“Marshall would love you if he could get over himself,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand down my face. “I’m sorry for the way I acted the first time we met. And while we’re at it, how I’m acting now. I’m not…not the best version of myself.”
“Forgiven.”