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“And that’s what the hair and makeup is? Armor?”
She nods, and I nod back in understanding.
Sliding a finger under her panties, I push it into her soaked sex, fucking her gently as I tease her clit, until she’s panting. Her fingers grip the edge of the seat tightly as her eyes roll and her body starts to tremble as an orgasm rockets through her. I keep moving my finger, pumping into her sex, as her body rides through the waves of pleasure, until all of her tension bursts from her in a long exhale and she sags into her seat.
“Better?” I ask, pulling my hand free and immediately sucking my finger into my mouth, licking her arousal from my skin.
“Much,” she rasps.
“Still want to sort your hair and makeup?”
She nods, her eyes closed.
“Okay,” I chuckle, pulling out my cell and dialing the number for the hair and makeup woman we employed for Tally.
“Hey Cathy, this is Carson Windsor, do you have any free time right now?” I ask when she answers the phone. Priss’s eyes blink open and she looks at me sleepily as I listen to Cathy give me directions to the studio she’s working in today, that’s luckily only a few blocks from here. “Great, I’ll see you in ten,” I say, ending the call and immediately pulling out onto the street and turning to head in the right direction.
Forty-five minutes later, Priss is polished and perfect, her hair blow-dried, her makeup applied, and she’s smiling, her posture relaxed and a thousand times less agitated than earlier. I’d like to think that the orgasm I gave her is the cause of her lack of tension, but I know it’s more about her having her armor back in place.
Pulling into the Lexington estate, I park my car behind Watson’s and climb out, taking Priss’s hand when she appears at my side. We’re an hour later than we said we’d be, but who cares. Without knocking I use my key to unlock the front door, smiling widely at Susan, Arlo’s housekeeper, when she scowls at me for not waiting for her to open the door for us.
“Mr. Carson,” she chides, when I walk past her, pulling Priss with me as I head straight for the patio where I’m assuming everyone else will be.
“Finally,” Watson hisses, when I step out through the awful white room and into the bright fall sunshine that’s engulfed the patio.
“We’re not that late,” I say, rolling my eyes and shoving Watson in the shoulder as I move past him and sit down in the corner of the sofa, dragging Priss into my lap. She tries to wriggle free, but I band my arm around her waist keeping her in place.
As much as she wants our help to get revenge on her parents, she doesn’t want to be here, and even thought she’ll deny it, she’s much more comfortable around her sister and my friends when I’m draped all over her.
“Morning,” Tally says on a yawn, when she appears a moment later, barefoot, in denim shorts and one of Arlo’s shirts tied into a knot at the waist, her eyes are barely open and her hair is wet and tied in a messy knot at the top of her head.
“Come here, little ghost,” Arlo says, grabbing his fiancé the moment she’s within arm’s reach and dragging her to him as she giggles loudly.
“Susan, you’re a marvel,” I say, when she strides out onto the patio with a huge coffee pot, cups, and a platter full of Danish pastries. The housekeeper winks at me playfully as she places it on the table, before turning and leaving without a word.
“How do you want your coffee?” I ask Priss, as I lift her from my lap, placing her on the sofa beside me and leaning forward to pour the drinks.
“Oh my god, Carrigan, you have to try the proper creamer, it’s amazing,” Tally gushes, pulling away from Arlo’s lips to talk to her sister. “We even have a caramel one,” she says, quickly making up a cup and shoving it at Priss.
My girl’s eyes widen and I tense, waiting for the panic from earlier to re-emerge, but instead she forces a smile onto her lips and reaches out to take the heavily creamer laced coffee from Tally. “Thanks,” she says politely.
“So…” I say, trying to pull the attention away from Priss, but Tally is waiting patiently for her sister to drink the coffee, ignoring me completely.
“Try it,” Tally urges, her eyes wide, her smile huge.
Turning, I try to think of some excuse to take the drink from her, but before I can, Priss lifts the cup to her lips and drinks, taking the tiniest of sips. Her eyes widen comically large and she immediately takes another sip. “Oh my god,” she moans, taking a third sip, before eventually lowering it from her mouth. “That is so good,” she says, taking another drink, as Tally giggles and I stare on in shock.
“Right!” Tally cries. “That’s what good coffee tastes like, not that zero fat, zero dairy crap that Mom insisted was the only thing we could drink.”
Priss moans again and the sound is so fucking sexual, I have to fidget in my seat to hide the growing boner in my shorts.
“God, is that how I sounded with the pizza?” Tally asks Arlo who’s snickering at her side.
“You were louder,” Olly says, with a chuckle that earns him a jab in the ribs from Arlo.
“What?” Priss asks, lowering the now empty cup to the table and staring at it longingly. “I was making a noise?”
“Apparently we make porny sex noises when we eat nice things,” Tally announces with zero preamble.
