Chapter Seventeen
Payton
Yesterday was chaotic at work, but nothing compared to a family dinner. The Summer sisters have descended upon our childhood home for an afternoon of bickering over the pros and cons between Batman vs. Superman, and eating too much of Grandma’s chili. I’m in favor of Batman. There’s something about that hard plastic suit and pocketful of gadgets. And come on: Batmobile. That alone puts him over the top in the coolness factor.
“Superman can fly, Payton. Batman can’t, even though he’s a bat,” Josh argues with me from across the table.
“Plus, he has heat-ray vision, Pay,” Meghan adds, smiling adoringly at her fiancé.
Their over-the-top cutesiness is nauseating at times, but today, I find myself dealing with their cheesy pet names and constant heavy petting. Though, I will say that their groping isn’t nearly as bad as Jaime and Ryan who are practically dry humping under the table.
“You’re so right, babe,” he coos, reaching over and touching the tip of her nose.
Okay, that’s a little nauseating.
“Heat-ray vision doesn’t even factor on the coolness chart compared to Batman’s…well, all the cool things Batman can do!” I defend lamely.
“See! You can’t even think of anything! Superman wins!” Meghan exclaims.
Talking to them is easy today. I’d rather deal with their eternal relationship bliss than whatever is going on down at the other end of the table. Jaime and Ryan are oblivious to it as they all but make little Ryans beneath the plastic floral tablecloth. Something is going on with Lexi and Abby. They both seemed all right Friday night when we had dinner, but they’re both off today.
Lexi and Chris have barely spoken since they arrived, and she refuses to make eye contact. Probably to hide her red-rimmed eyes so that we wouldn’t jump all over her for details on why she’s been crying. And Levi arrived a few minutes before dinner was served, but Abby won’t even look his way. In fact, she looks almost pained to be sitting beside him.
It makes me wonder what’s going on there. Well, both relationships, actually. If you can actually call what Levi and Abby have a relationship. They’re friends, first and foremost, and I’d bet the ownership papers on my shop, they both feel something deeper than friendship.
And Lexi and Chris? I just don’t know. She wants a baby, this is a fact that she doesn’t attempt to hide. When he’s around, he acts as if they’re the perfect couple, but refuses to acknowledge that something could be wrong with their baby-making abilities. I wonder if she’s talked further to her OB or to her husband. She didn’t bring it up Friday, and knowing that it’s a sensitive subject, I stayed as far away from that topic as humanly possible.
“Ladies! Great news,” Grandma says as she comes into the dining room with a pineapple upside down cake. “I signed up for a home party, and you are all required to be there.” Grandma sets down the dessert and starts dishing up the sweet, gooey cake.
“Oh, is it a kitchen gadgets party? I really need to get a few things for the house,” Jaime says, pulling her attention away from playing tonsil hockey with her boyfriend.
“No, not kitchen gadgets,” Grandma says, passing around little plates.
“How about makeup? I’ve been thinking of doing a makeover,” Abby says softly, almost too quietly to hear. Everyone glances over at her and there’s no way to miss the look Levi gives her.
“A makeover? You don’t need to change anything,” he protests loudly. And while I agree with him, the look on my baby sister’s face says she strongly disagrees.
“No, not makeup, Abs. This is something different. Something fun.”
“Then what?” AJ asks between bites.
“A sex toy party.”
Fortunately for me, I wasn’t shoveling a heap of fluffy cake in my face when those words spilled from my grandmother’s mouth. Unfortunately for AJ, she was, and she instantly begins choking. No, not really choking, but more of an it-went-down-the-wrong-pipe moment. Abby’s lucky she didn’t get sprayed with spitty cake particles from across the table.
“Dear God, did she just say sex toy party?” Jaime half-whispers, half-yells at Ryan.
“Oh, don’t be a stick in the mud, Jaimers. We all have the sex. It’s a natural part of life. I want to explore and revel in it.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you’re supposed to explore with your grandkids in the room,” my dad says with a look that shows he’s as unsettled by this as we all are.
“Why not? We’re all adults here. We can talk about vibrators and butt plugs together.”
“Jesus, she said butt plugs,” Meghan groans.
“I expect you all to be there. I get a free Pocket Rocket for being the hostess,” she adds, clapping her hands triumphantly. “Now, dig in. It’s super moist.”
“Is she talking about the cake?” Ryan asks, earning a slap across the shoulder from Jaime. “What? We were just discussing a sex party and Pocket Rocket at a family dinner, and I can’t say moist? Excuse me for being confused, because it could have gone either way.”
And then, because men will be men, Levi leans towards Ryan and adds, “I prefer my women like my cake.”
The table erupts in groans.
“Me too, boy. Me too,” Grandpa adds with a mouthful of cake.
“That’s such a gross word,” Abby gags, throwing a glare in Levi’s direction.
“Agreed.” This from Lexi. She throws her own glare at Chris, who’s barely pulled his nose out of his cell phone.
I can’t help but look around and wonder where Dean would fit in this picture. He’s not exactly the numbers nerd I originally thought, but still likes organization and rules. I see him talking about his day with Josh and about building projects with Ryan. He’ll discuss sports with my dad, and maybe even help man the grill. I can picture him laughing at everyone’s jokes, even the dirty ones, and pray that he doesn’t think my family’s as crazy as they really are.
When I look around, I see Dean fitting in anywhere.
And maybe that’s okay.
Maybe that’s not as scary as I thought it would be.
Then reality creeps in and slaps me across the face like a cold wind off Lake Michigan. I still have my reasons for avoiding relationships, and those reasons are solid. But maybe I need to give Dean the chance and the choice. No, I’m not ready to tell him everything, but maybe, over time, I’ll learn to trust him enough to share my secrets. I just pray he doesn’t run for the hills, leaving me in a heap of mangled heart pieces and salty tears, when it’s all said and done. But perhaps he won’t. What if Dean actually isn’t bothered by my shocking news, and wants to stick it out with me? No, I know it’s too early in our budding relationship to think long-term, but I’m a girl. Even a pessimist like me thinks about this stuff every once in a while. I just won’t let myself get too caught up in the fairytale, not for too long anyway.
Because…what if?
Maybe he’ll be the one to actually stay.
* * *
Wednesday night. Dean’s late night. I close up shop, send Rachel home early, and drive towards his work with a smile on my face and a condom in my pocket. Not exactly the most romantic locale for sexy times, but hey, when one of us is an accountant during tax season, you don’t always get to be choosey.
And sex atop a desk is kinda hot.
When I enter the firm, I find the secretary sitting at her desk. She’s filing a stack of papers with the phone perched on her shoulder. The lines under her eyes tell me she’s as exhausted as she sounds, but she still greets me with a warm smile.
“Can I help you?” she asks as soon as she puts the phone down.
“I was hoping to speak with Dean McIntire for a moment.” No, I probably don’t need to use his last name since there are only three accountants here and only one with the first name of Dean, but I’m working on keeping this as professional as possible here.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I don’t. I’m a client of his and I was hoping to drop these off for him,” I say, tapping the manila file folder in my hand.
“He’s with a client, but I could leave them for him.” She stands up, reaching for the folder.
“Well, I would just leave it, but there’s a few things I was hoping to discuss with him. Professionally.” Why did I say that? Might as well tattoo the word guilty across my forehead. Maybe add I’m planning to have sex with Dean on his desk down my arm.
“Of course. Well, he’s with his final client of the evening. If you’d like to wait, it shouldn’t be too much longer.”
I thank her and take a seat on one of the vinyl chairs in the waiting area. The building is silent except for a few clicks on a keyboard, and the occasional sigh. Starting to seriously reconsider my plan, I think about getting up. There’s still time to slip out without Dean knowing I was here. But I won’t do that. I can’t. He’s like a magnet, pulling me towards him. There’s no point in fighting it; it’s futile.
When I glance down at my phone to check the time, I hear a door open. Dean follows a young couple out of his office. They’re chatting politely, and he has yet to see me. I feel the pull clear down to my toes when our eyes meet across the waiting room. Everything and everyone around us fades away until we’re the only two left in the entire world. Just us.
“I’ll have your paperwork finalized tomorrow. Cora will give you a call when it’s ready to be picked up,” he says, giving the couple before him his full attention. They shake hands before Dean holds open the front door and bids them a good night.
His eyes are dark and full of something needy when they turn back to me. Before either of us can speak, Cora pipes up from behind her reception desk.
“Miss Summer doesn’t have an appointment, Mr. McIntire, but was hoping to steal a moment of your time to drop something off.”
“Of course. Come on back, Miss Summer,” he says, a subtle smirk playing on the corner of his mouth.
His mouth. His lips are full and remind me of all the wicked things they did to me just a week ago. That mouth is part of the reason I’m here, while he’s supposed to be working. Even talking to him every day has done nothing to squash the looming desire that’s ready to flame to life with mere thoughts of him and his talented mouth.
And those glasses. He’s in full business mode, and there’s something sexy about the way they perch on the bridge of his nose. They give him a studious look. The perfect blend of smarts and erotic. Fortunately, I dig the hot nerdy accountant look because my body is flush and my panties soaked.
“Thank you for giving me a few moments, Mr. McIntire.”
Again, I’m rewarded with the slightest curl of his lip. Silently, we walk past Cora’s desk and down the short hall to Dean’s space. As soon as I step inside, I feel his presence behind me. I’m being stalked. Glancing over my shoulder, his face is the picture of lust. Molten lava races through my bloodstream.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” he says. I feel the heat of his body as he steps behind me and presses his body against my backside.
“I was in the neighborhood.” My words are breathy and rushed.
“Really?” Dean runs his hands up my outer arms to my shoulders. “I’m glad you stopped by.” He places a kiss on the back of my neck. “What’s in the folder?”
“I couldn’t exactly show up empty handed, could I?” Grabbing the folder, I flip the cover and reveal the paper inside.
He glances over my shoulder and laughs. “You drew me a cat?”
“Not just any cat. This cat is sunning itself in the window.”
“Why does the cat only have three legs?”
“That’s Sparky. He was our cat growing up. He got under the hood of my dad’s work car one day when I was little and got his leg caught. My mom rushed it to a vet, who amputated the mangled leg. We loved that damn cat. He lived until he was almost eighteen as our three-legged baby.”
“That’s oddly sad and delightful at the same time.” His lips return to my neck, making me shudder.
Tossing my hair over my right shoulder to give him complete, unobstructed access to my neck, I ask, “Do you have any more appointments tonight?”
“Not tonight,” he says, nipping at my spine. “Cora will be leaving shortly. If I’m still back here, she’ll lock me in.”
“So we have a bit of alone time?” I ask, exhaling deeply as he runs his tongue towards my collarbone.
“Very much alone,” he mumbles, his hands sliding around to my stomach. He pushes up my shirt, his large hands skimming effortlessly up to cup my breasts. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
“Me too.”
“What have you been thinking about?” Dean lightly pinches my nipples, causing me to squirm and push back against him. My ass connects with his very hard cock. I gasp.
“About how much I want to feel you inside me again.”
“Is that what you want now?”
“Yes,” I whisper as he keeps one hand on my breast and slides the other down and into my pants.
“I was thinking about this weekend,” he says, moving his hand into my wet, useless panties.
“Yeah?”
“I’d love to take you to dinner Saturday night.”
I pant; not from his words, but from the way his hands play me like a musical instrument. His fingers graze against my clit, causing a flood of sensations to bubble inside me.
“I can’t Saturday night.” Honestly, I’m not sure how I’m able to form coherent sentences at this point. Not with his fingers playing with my clit and his other hand massaging my nipple.
“No?”
“It’s sisters’ night. Oh God,” I groan. “I have a standing date with my sisters. So good.”
“Sisters’ night is so good? Or this?” Dean slides two fingers into my pussy.
“This. So much this.”
“You came to my office for this, did you not?” he asks, pumping his fingers into my body. I feel myself climbing higher and higher, inching towards the glorious cliff that’ll send me flying.
“Yes,” I gasp. “I needed to be with you. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Then, who am I to keep you from what you want?” he asks, pinching my nipple and rubbing his palm against my clit. The friction sends me soaring high above the clouds. The orgasm slams into me with force. My legs get weak as my body gyrates against him, silently begging for more.
I don’t have to ask. He knows.
Leaning forward, I take a moment to catch my breath as he removes his hands from my body. The sound of his zipper, the removal of his pants, and the ripping of the condom wrapper are as loud as my breathing, and my body responds instantly.
“This is what you wanted?” I feel him step up behind me, his cock rubbing against my butt cheeks.
“Yes,” I pant.
“I would never deny you this,” he says as he pushes forward and into my still-pulsing pussy. From behind, I feel every inch of him as he slides inside, all the way to the root.
A hearty groan is the only response I give as I push back against him, taking him as deep as possible. My brain is officially no longer connected to my mouth, and I realize it the moment I start spouting off things I normally wouldn’t say if it weren’t for the blissful state of euphoria spreading through my body.
“You can come Saturday night,” I whisper as he gently slides almost the entire length of him out and then slams back inside.
“Yeah?” he asks, grinding against me when he’s fully seated once more.
“Yeah. All of the guys usually show up by the end of sisters’ night, even though they’re not supposed to.”
Again, he pulls out, but this time slides in slowly, deliberately, and almost painfully. “You want me there with your sisters’ guys?”
I should shut up, but I can’t. “Yes.”
“Where?” Dean grips my hips tightly but pauses his movements. My body craves him, needs him to move, to give me the release that’s imminent.
“Please move,” I beg, trying to push back against him.
“Where?” he commands, holding me still and not letting either of us move.
“The Beaver. We’re doing some sort of pottery class in the back room.”
“And you want me to be there when you’re done with your class?”
“God yes,” I groan, my inner muscles tightening around his cock, as if begging for more.
“Don’t do that,” he groans, still holding me completely hostage.
“What? This?” I flex my muscles around him, resulting in another moan.
“Yes, that. Stop it or Cora is going to hear us when I slam into you and make you come so hard you see stars.”
“Yes. That. Do that.”
“Make you come hard and see stars?”
A foreign noise slips from my lips, and I’m not sure it’s an actual word.
“You have to be super quiet, honey, or she’ll come in and check on us.”
Again, I make a noise, but it’s a noise of relief as Dean slides out and back in to the hilt. My body starts to shake and I feel myself bearing down on him. His grip is tight, and I’m sure I’ll have marks on my hips for days. That’s okay. The idea of being marked by Dean doesn’t bother me in the least.
“Jesus,” he grumbles, quickening his pace as the finish line stands before us.
With one deep thrust, I shatter into a million pieces around him, soaring high above the clouds, never wanting to come down. He follows, driving into me from behind with force before stilling and shaking. Dean bends over and places open-mouthed kisses along my shoulders before resting his head against my back. My legs are worthless, refusing to hold me up. His weight is heavy as he relaxes, pinning me between the desk and his body.
It’s comfortable.
“I meant what I said. I’m going to come Saturday,” he says as he tries to regain his breath. “There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
I gasp as he slowly starts to slide out of me. On shaky legs, I turn and face him. “I meant what I said too. I want you there.”
It’s not so scary to admit that I want him to attend, because I do. I guess I just always expected to see something burst into flames or for something equally as dramatic if I actually wanted a man to attend a family function or someplace where my family will be. But not just any man, I want Dean.
We’ve been talking a lot lately and I’ve enjoyed our banter and getting to know each other. Twice now, he mentioned he had something to tell me, but wanted to wait to do it in person. I’m not sure what it is, but maybe we can discuss it tonight, since I’m already here.
Silently, we both straighten up our clothes. Dean disposes of the condom in the wastepaper basket, while I right my top. “Do you have a few minutes to talk before you go?” he asks, fastening his work trousers.
“Yeah, a few minutes,” I reply, buttoning my top.
Just as he goes to say something else, the door to his office bursts open. A little girl with the brownest eyes comes barreling through the door, a wide smile on her face. I gasp, anxiously working my fingers to fasten my own pants. I have no time to process the interruption or try to determine what in the world is going on because the child speaks two words that shock me to my core.
Two words.
And they change everything.
“Hi, Daddy!”