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“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 Izzy.
“Hey Yolanda, this is Hawthorn Benedict, do you have any free time right now?” I ask when she answers the phone. Opening her eyes, Penelope looks at me sleepily as I listen to Yolanda 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 turning to head in the right direction.
Forty-five minutes later, Penelope is polished and perfect. Yolanda blow-dried her hair, then twisted the front up into elaborate braids, leaving the back loose, and did her makeup in a more relaxed version of the sex kitten look she wore yesterday. By the time she’s finished, my Princess is smiling, tension-free, and a thousand times less agitated than earlier.
When I slow to a stop outside Gulliver’s house, I climb out of the car and take Penelope’s hand when she appears at my side. We’re an hour later than we said we’d be, but I’d rather be late than stress Princess out even more by bringing her here when she was so anxious. Not bothering to knock, I pull out my key and unlock the front door, smiling widely at Beth, Gulliver’s housekeeper, when she scowls at me for not waiting for her to open the door for us.
“Mr. Hawthorn,” she chides, like a disapproving grandmother.
“Sorry, Beth,” I say, completely unrepentant. Towing Penelope along behind me, I head straight for the patio where I’m assuming everyone else will be.
“Finally,” Davis hisses, when I step out through the awful white room and into the bright fall sunshine that’s engulfed the patio.
“Don’t be a Karen, Davis, we’re not that late,” I say, rolling my eyes and shoving him playfully in the shoulder as I move past him and sit down in the corner of the sofa, dragging Penelope into my lap.
“Hawthorn,” she hisses, wiggling to get free, but I band my arm around her waist, keeping her in place.
Penelope might need help to enact some revenge on her parents, but I know that being around Izzy is hard for her. I saw the panic on her face yesterday when she tried to talk to everyone on the boat, and I also know that she’s much more comfortable around her sister and my friends when I’m draped all over her.
“Morning,” Izzy says on a yawn, wandering onto the patio barefoot, in denim shorts, wearing one of Gulliver’s shirts tied into a knot at her 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.” Gulliver chuckles, grabbing his fiancée the moment she’s within arm’s reach and dragging her to him as she giggles loudly.
“Beth, you’re a marvel,” I say when she strides out onto the patio with a huge coffee pot, cups, creamer, sugar, and a platter full of pastries. The housekeeper winks at me playfully, her earlier ire forgotten as she places the tray on the table before turning and leaving without a word.
“How do you want your coffee?” I whisper to Penelope, lifting her off my lap and placing her on the sofa beside me so I can pour us both drinks.
“Oh my god, Penelope, you have to try the proper creamer, it’s amazing,” Izzy gushes, jumping out of Gulliver’s lap and diving for the tray. “We even have a caramel one, and Gulliver ordered me a birthday cake flavor, it just hasn’t been delivered yet,” she says, quickly making up a cup and shoving it at Penelope.
My girl’s eyes widen, and I tense, waiting for the panic from earlier to re-emerge, but instead she forces a plastic smile onto her lips and reaches out to take the heavily creamer-laced coffee from Izzy. “Thanks,” she says politely.
“So…” I say, trying to pull the attention away from Princess, but instead of looking at me, Izzy is waiting patiently for her sister to drink the coffee, ignoring me completely.
“Try it,” Izzy urges, her eyes wide and her smile huge.
Turning, I try to think of some excuse to take the drink from her, but before I can, Penelope lifts the cup to her lips and takes the tiniest of sips. Her eyes go comically large, and she immediately takes another sip. “Oh my god,” she moans, taking a third sip before eventually lowering it from her mouth. “Why does it taste so good?” she asks, staring down at the cup before lifting it to her lips and taking another drink.
The sound of Izzy’s giggles bounces around the patio, but I just stare at my girl in shock.
“That’s what coffee is supposed to taste like,” Izzy cries.
Penelope moans again, and the sound is so fucking sexual, I have to fidget in my seat to hide the growing erection in my shorts.
“God, is that how I sounded with the pizza?” Izzy asks Gulliver, who’s snickering at her side.
“You were louder,” Kip says, with a chuckle that earns him a jab in the ribs from Gulliver.
“What?” Penelope asks, lowering her now-empty cup to the table and staring at it longingly. “Did I make a noise?”
“Apparently we make porny sex noises when we eat nice things,” Izzy announces with zero preamble, refilling her sister’s cup and handing it back to her.
“I do not!” Princess says in a very Penelope-esque tone.
“You kind of do,” I say, carefully lifting her back into my lap and pushing my hard dick against her ass.
