Bella's Lucky Lunch
"Oh... Right there. Eh-Ehmmm-breeee...!"
I grinned, watching Bella move, hearing those sounds...such sounds... "Like that, huh?"
"Shut up," she panted, moving so that my hands slid, so that my fingers moved where she wanted them. Needed them. I knew my imprint. Better than any man living.
Or, you know, not dead. Hadn't seen that damned bloodsucker in a couple of years, but sometimes... I smelled him.
Not that I was wanting to think about him. My girl needed me focused. "How about there?"
Her body stilled. She sighed. Moaned my name, her muscles tightening then going completely limp. "Oh, yeah."
"You know," I said as I stretched out beside her, still on the floor, "it's a real good thing I'd finished that carburetor."
Her smile was lazy, content. Like the pussycat that – yeah. Which gave me an idea.
I wiggled my eyebrows playfully at her. "So, how lucky do I get?"
Like a cat, she stretched and almost purred before rolling up to peek on the bed. Hemi snorted in his sleep. Hennah mewed a little. "Oh, looks like you get lucky, too. After that incredible massage, it's the least I can do," she teased.
She grabbed the waist of my jeans and started unbuttoning. "Gee, Bella. Weird place for a massage..."
"Shhh...if they wake up, you don't get lucky."
I was absolutely silent. And it was an amazing...massage.
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