Twelve Days of Hawtness

Day 10 | Melody of Silence (2) | LP Tvorik

I was so ready, all it would've taken was a touch. Just a little renewed attention between my legs, and I'd have toppled over the edge. Instead, he abandoned me altogether, pushing himself away, dragging my underwear down over my legs and discarding them to the side before standing up straight. I knew what he saw as he towered over me-- my naked body limp and heavy against the mattress, skin flushed and hot, chest heaving, hair mussed, lips swollen, nipples puckered and aching... and there he stood, fully clothed and smirking.

What an insufferable asshole. What an arrogant, manipulative, beautiful, infuriating dickhead.

I wasn't as gentle with him as he was with me. I didn't worship his body. I just took it, because it was mine to take. He didn't make any effort to push me back down as I surged off the bed and threw myself into his arms, sending him stumbling backwards. I heard the stitches of his t-shirt strain and snap as I struggled against my own need in my frantic effort to get him as naked as I was.

He raised his arms obediently and I stood on my tiptoes, my bare chest pressed against his as I ripped the shirt off his arms and threw it somewhere behind him. His hands plunged into my hair and his mouth seized mine in a desperate kiss as my hands dropped down and skilfully worked his belt loose, ripping it clean out of the loops with a snapping crack and dropping it to the ground by our feet.

My fingers had just loosed the button on his jeans when three sharp knocks echoed forth from the door.

We froze solid. I opened my eyes and found Nate's face just inches away from mine, his own eyes so wide I could see white all around the stormy gray irises.

"Mom?" Matt's muffled voice found its way through the door, trickling between the cracks surrounding it. "Dad?"

I pinched my lips on a peal of hysterical laughter as Nate squeezed his eyes shut in an expression of pure pain, his chest rising and falling with a single, slow breath as he pressed his forehead to mine.

"What's up, buddy?" he said finally, and you wouldn't have heard the strain in his voice unless you were me.

"Eli just texted me," Matt said, jiggling the doorknob even though a damn-near-fourteen-year-old should fucking know better. "He's gonna go to the mall tomorrow after school and he wants to know if I can come."

Nate's voice was the barest whisper as he fisted his hands in my hair with a barely-audible sigh of exasperation. "That couldn't wait until tomorrow?" he breathed, just for me, and I swallowed another laugh.

"Who's gonna drive you?" I asked, trying to school my voice like Nate had, but it still came out a little higher pitched than usual.

"Eli's mom," Matt answered.

"That's fine," Nate took over. "Tell him you need to be home by six, though."

"Dad, c'mon," Matt whined. "You never--"

"Six o'clock, Matthew," Nate ground out, even while his fingers gently untangled themselves from my hair and traced the curve of my spine before cupping my ass. "It's either that or you come straight home."

"Fine," Matt grumbled. Then, after a long, disgruntled pause. "Night."

"Goodnight, honey!" I called over Nate's shoulder.

"Love you, bud," my husband followed.

"Love you guys," Matt huffed, and then the sound of creaking floorboards signalled his retreat.

We stood there, still frozen to the ground with Nate's hands on my ass and my own fingers still curled around the waistband of his jeans. Meeting my eyes with an expression of sheer, parental disbelief, Nate shook his head.