Heat

Gods, angels and cartrips

JUST a sheet covers me as I wake up in the early morn. It’s still dark and the heat is intolerable – out in the hall – but in here I’m thinking of building an igloo. Mr Cool has done his job very well and for the first time in weeks the heat didn’t stop me sleeping. Well not that heat anyway. I’d say I was a very satisfied woman but that wouldn’t be entirely true.

The Scott-dar has continued to work with amazing accuracy and just as things were getting interesting in the hall last night – and I mean very interesting – Scott calls out and asks me where the towels are and what ones he should use now.

It’s not really what you want to hear when the most gorgeous man in the universe has your hands pinned above your head against your bedroom door with one of his big hands. Your singlet top is on the floor, covered by his T shirt. His body is close so close to yours you can feel a connection everywhere and his soft lips are gently sucking your nipple slowly and erotically into his mouth .

They were in bed, we were sure they were in bed.

Actually we didn’t care if they were or not. I don’t think we were thinking, well not with anything between our ears.

It felt good to give in to the tension that had been building from the moment we met. He felt good pressed to me, his knee between my legs, spreading them apart. I felt good in his mouth,

I could have easily ignored my brother and the whole world like that.

But the longer I closed my eyes and forgot about the universe outside Tom and I, the more chance there was that it was about to come up the stairs and rumble me, rumble us, doing stuff that wasn’t on the Scott Thompson list of “What my best friend could do with my sister”.  I’m pretty sure the thing he was planning to do with the left hand  that was trailing down my stomach would blow Scott’s mind because oh god it felt like it was about to blow mine.

“Meg are you there?”  Scott calls, his voice now a little clearer which meant he was getting closer by the minute.

 I try not to groan as Tom takes his lips away and looks up into my eyes, dropping my hands at the same time. It’s a look of defeat.

“Do you think they heard us,” he whispers in my ear, nipping it lightly.

I shrug and shiver in equal measure, “probably we were a bit louder than we should have been!”.

“Meg?” Scott’s voice is getting even closer now, he’s obviously off the bottom stairs and walking across the lounge.

“Hang on Scott I was about to get into the shower,” I call out as Tom reaches down and picks up my top and his, wiping my nipple with his T shirt. I try not to groan and put my top back on as Tom sighs in disappointment as he watches my breasts disappear behind the fabric.

“Well you were getting wet,” he whispers low in my ear – making his suggestion come true.

“I’ll get the towels and bring them down,” I yell out rolling my eyes at him.

“Cool – can you do it soon? I want to get to bed and get some sleep.”

Mmmm I wanted to get to bed soon too – sleep was an optional extra.

“Yep coming!”

We hear Scott move back across the loungeroom to the lower stairs and I let out a sigh of relief or frustration or both.

Tom curls his arms around me and we kiss once we think the coast is clear. I run my hands over his bare back and shoulders and sigh again.

“Rain check?”  I say and he smiles, it’s part that angelic smile that gets all the women in but with just a hint of predator, that I hope is just for a select few, and I seriously contemplate dragging him into my bedroom and letting Scott do without fresh towels.