Bonham (Pushing Daisies Book 3) by Heather Young-Nichols (the little red hen read aloud txt) 📗

Instead of speaking, I grabbed her free hand and made it cup my balls. She massaged as if she did know what to do.

This was too much.

She pulled back. A thin string of saliva went from the head of my dick to her mouth. “I want to do it the way you like it,” she told me, her voice thick with desire. “I won’t know if you don’t tell me.”

“I don’t want to freak you out.”

Her gaze locked with mine. “You won’t. I promise. I’ll make sure you know if I don’t like it.”

As I fought with myself over what was right, I groaned. But that was how she wanted it, so I’d give it to her.

I threaded her hair through my fingers and tightened. It shouldn’t have hurt and the way she moaned, I knew it didn’t. Then I pulled the hand wrapped around my base away and pumped my hips. Could that have been considered me fucking her mouth? Yes. Did it feel so fucking good that I did it again? Yes again.

Jurnie let out a moan, which was muffled because her mouth was full of me. I did it two more times and decided it was enough. I was going to save something for later. We’d get into it more next time. Besides, I wasn’t going to last much longer. So I released her hair, though I still kept my hand on her head. She grasped me again and began bobbing much more vigorously.

“Jurnie, baby, I’m going to cum. If you don’t want it in your mouth, you’ve got to stop,” I said. She didn’t stop. Her eyes met mine and I knew that was what she was going for.

Damn, my girl was going full force for her first time. She kept going until my hotness filled her mouth. Again and again, but when I pulled back, she sputtered. I grabbed a dirty hand towel out of the hamper near me and handed it to her. She covered her mouth and spit it into the towel.

“I’m sorry,” she sputtered. “I wasn’t—”

“Stop.” I dropped to my knees on the floor in front of her. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

She wiped her mouth a second time. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so salty.”

I snorted. “I’m told it’s an acquired taste.”

“One I don’t think I want to acquire.”

I kissed her quickly on the lips, which would’ve grossed some people out, but I didn’t want her to think I wouldn’t kiss her. “You don’t have to. I tried to warn you.”

“I know, but I wanted to try it.”

After tossing the towel back into the hamper, we climbed onto my bed. We lay there for a while, partially dressed for her, and talked until it was time to take her home.

Dropping her off was so fucking hard that I was counting down the hours until dinner tomorrow.

13

Jurnie

I couldn’t believe I’d done that last night with Bonham. It’d felt right, but I desperately needed to talk to someone. So around eight-thirty in the morning, I scurried downstairs to my sister. She’d be picking Lily up tonight after we went to church because we wanted to placate our father. This was something he wanted to show once in a while. A united front. Delaney and I had agreed to today because she wouldn’t have Lily.

Delaney had no interest in raising Lily the way my parents had raised us. Church every Sunday and that group being the main part of our lives. She thinks it was part of the reason she rebelled so hard. Course correction, she’d told me.

Mom and Dad didn’t like it but we’d all come to a tenuous understanding that Delaney was raising Lily and would make the decision she thought was right for her daughter. It was the only way my sister would move into the house and our parents didn’t want her living in a cheap part of town with their grandchild.

“Delaney,” I called down.

“Enter,” she yelled back up.

I stumbled down the stairs, almost falling twice. I’d chosen an understated skirt and flowy top with cap sleeves along with ballet flats. It was good enough for church and casual enough to go to the study group right after.

Delaney had her hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail and was also wearing a flowy skirt with a button-down shirt. We’d joked about how conservative we had to dress for church and how it was almost the opposite of how we would’ve dressed normally. Not that either of us had ever dressed provocatively.

“You riding with me today?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I have to go to study group after so Mom’s letting me use her car since she won’t need it today. We have a project due. Can I talk to you until we leave, though?”

“Always.” She swiped the mascara over her lips. She was doing her makeup at the kitchen table. The best part of her having her own place within the house was that there was no chance Mom or Dad would come down here and interrupt us. “What’s up?”

“I spent some time with Bonham last night.”

“I figured. I know I’ve told you things, but I am so jealous. He and all of his brothers are so hot. Have you seen the one who manages them?”

“Yeah. I met them all on Friday at their parents’ house.”

“You suck.” But then she laughed. I knew she wasn’t really jealous. Or if she was, she still wanted me to have everything. “So what did you want to talk about? Did you have sex with him?” Her eyes were so wide and hopeful, I almost hated to disappoint her.

“Not yet,” I admitted. She deflated. “But I think I will tomorrow because I’m staying at his apartment.”

She turned to me seriously. “I have to say this and you know what’s coming. If this is what you want to do, that’s awesome. Go forth and hump. But be careful. You’re on the pill, which is good, but make sure he wears a