Page 32 of Double Trouble
“What. Do. You. Want.”
Frustration throwing me into motion, I grabbed onto him. “You. I want you.”
That was all it took. Jake flipped me over and, grabbing my hips, brought me down onto his rock-hard cock.
“Yes Cin, yes,” he groaned as I started to move.
I threw my head back as I rode him like a rockstar.
“That’s my girl,” he said, cupping my breasts.
I ground onto him harder and he grunted.
We were both close, I could tell. His ragged breath matched mine and his fingers were insistently pressed into my flesh.
“God you feel so good Jake,” bit out as I quickened my pace and clamped my pussy around him as I rode him harder.
One hand still holding and guiding my hip, Jake slipped the other one across my belly and applied the slightest bit of pressure to my clit with his thumb. The sensation sent me over the edge and I spiraled down the dark hole of an earth-shattering orgasm. With one final thrust and a grunt, Jake followed me over the edge.
We lay like that on the bed, breathing, shaking, for I don’t know how long. Jake smiled vaguely at me. “That was…”
“Amazing,” I finished for him with a smile.
Although I tried relaxing into Jake, being ok with cozying up in the bed, my hunger pains gave me no choice but to throw on my bathrobe and leave the room.
Back in the main room, on my way to the kitchen, I was surprised to see Owen still in front of the movie. What had gone down with Jake felt like it had been hours of ecstasy, and yet, there Owen was, as awake as ever, still watching The Shining.
As I grabbed the first chip bag I saw – Salt and Vinegar Lays for the win – I thought about that. And, when I passed by, I paused.
“Do you… I don’t know, maybe it’s weird, but would you want to join?”
When Owen turned with a great big smile, I knew that ‘weird’ was the last thing on his mind. “Join you for chips?” he asked innocently, though I knew he knew what I had meant.
Back in the room, I mumbled, “Yeah, so Jake is.”
“Naked.” Owen tossed a chip in his mouth. “I figured.”
I clambered into bed, Owen coming in beside me. As he reached for another chip, he cast me a sidelong glance. “You guys had fun, eh?”
I focused on breaking the chip I had in my hand into teeny tiny pieces. “You heard?”
Owen chuckled. “I’m more surprised that your friend didn’t hear – between that and Jack Nicholson terrorizing his whole family.”
“Here’s Johnny!” Jake said in a crazy voice, and we laughed.
He reached over, grabbing some chips out of Owen’s hand. “Hey, thanks.”
“How do you two ever work together?” I asked, giggling as Owen lunged over me to get his chips back.
They paused, a thoughtful look touching their features.
“You know,” Jake finally said. “It’s probably that we have one major thing in common.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“We like winning,” Owen said.
“It’s what we were bred to do,” Jake said, his voice taking on a somber tone.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Our dad,” Jake started, then closed his mouth and shook his head.
His words made it occur to me just how little I really knew about Jake and Owen. Sure, I knew the basics – they were ex-military, a boxer and a manager, and had a tight bachelor pad, but that was about it.
“We don’t exactly get along with him,” Owen explained. “If you didn’t get that from Jake’s expression.”
“More like we hate him because he’s a controlling asshole,” Jake grumbled moodily. His head dipped to my shoulder, so he could glare his wrath into my plain white ceiling. “Ever since we were little, the bastard tried controlling us. Enough chores to kill a mule, so many rules even Hitler would’ve been put off.” A smile tinged his lips. “At least we got away and pissed him off all in one go when we joined the Army.”
“It was a good way out,” Owen agreed.
“What about now?” I asked. “He must be happy you guys are doing so well in the boxing world, right?”
“You’d think,” Owen said, crunching down on a chip. “Thing is, Dad has his ideas and isn’t easily dissuaded from them. His thinking is we should be working nice cushy office jobs, not crazy unpredictable ones like what we have now.”
“Needless to say, our visits are limited to Christmas and Thanksgiving,” Jake said, before taking two handfuls worth of chips.
“A bit hungry, are we?” I asked him, though he only grinned.
“Speaking of families, how come you never talk about yours?”
“Don’t I?”
“Not really,” Owen agreed.
“Hm, not sure,” I said. “I’ve got a pretty standard family. Nice and supportive Mom and Dad, judgemental neurotic older sister, Lorraine.”
“The kind who definitely wouldn’t approve of us,” Jake said, grinning.
