Page 28 of Jonesing for a Spy

“She’s a good woman. She was a nurse before she retired. She was present at home, too, as much as any working mom can be. She did all the things. Where she couldn’t, my dad stepped in. And he had the same, if-it’s-good-for-one, it’s-good-for-all mentality. My sisters know how to change a tire and replace a toilet just like I do.”

“Impressive.” She smiles and takes another big bite. “Renaissance but modern. I like it.”

“It sucked as a kid.” Lots of things sucked as a kid. “But I can’t argue the benefits as an adult.”

“Remember when you thought being an adult would be the best thing ever and no one could tell you what to do?”

I cover my laugh with a knowing cough. “And now everyone tells you what to do, not just your parents?”

“I went from really cool parents to the Army. The Army,” she repeats for emphasis. “I wasn’t unaware. Jamie’s older than me, so I was sort of prepared. As prepared as I could be, I guess, but yeah. Silly sixteen-year-old me was an idiot.”

“I run a company and make all the decisions, and I still have everyone telling me what to do. I don’t mean the IRS, OSHA, or the state of Illinois, but the union, the employees, and somehow, my parents still think they need to chime in.”

“Try being the youngest… and a girl.” She swirls another forkful of pasta and dances in her seat with the bite.

“Oldest and the only boy, so I’ll claim ignorance on that one. My baby sister can probably commiserate though. She’s a biochemist in Denver and an overachiever.”

“That’s daunting.”

“Says the Army Ranger.”

“Yeah, well, I’m hard-headed and can’t back down from a challenge.”

“So a double-dog dare is all it takes?”

She covers her mouth with her hand. “I haven’t heard that term in forever, but yeah. That’s about all it takes.”

I’m not the guy who needs a dare to act, but something about the challenge laid before me keeps my throbbing cock from softening. “Oh, Freckles, you probably shouldn’t have told me that.”

12

oral and orgasms

Mirren

“You done?” He looks pointedly at my bowl.

“Not even close.”

“What if you finish after I eat you?”

My eyebrows jump, but I fight to make my face neutral just as my fork clatters to the bowl. I study him.

“I dare you, Freckles. I dare you to let me lick that pretty pussy on this island so every time you come into this kitchen you want to clench your thighs from the memory.”

“I—”

“And I dare you not to come until I say you can.”

Oh, I know he didn’t. My chin lifts, and somehow, I’m sure the fight warring inside me plays across my face.

Rolling his lips between his teeth, he stands and removes his glasses, setting them on the island, and hovers over me. It’s no threat, but it’s dominant. He looks down on me where I sit as he slowly dips his head. His eyes bounce between mine and my lips, all the while coming closer and closer.

The heat kindling in me wants to combust, igniting the whole place, but I hold my seat, watching and waiting, letting it gather momentum to singe me from the inside out. His lips graze mine but divert to my ear where he bites and nibbles.

Whispered words send chills down my spine. “Mirren Jones, I dare you to let me fuck you with my tongue, lick your sweet, sweet pussy, and make you come on my face.”

That’s it. Everything is it, frankly.