Chapter 13: Cedar Chest

Timothy pinned my wrists to the headboard with one hand and I let him.

It was Sunday night, six days before Norma's open house, and she was at choir rehearsal until ten.

Dean's SUV was gone from the drive.

We had two hours, and we spent the first one starving.

He stripped my shirt off over my head and put his mouth on my breast, and I swore at the ceiling.

"Say it again," he said against my skin.

"Fuck, Timothy."

"Louder."

"Norma's room is right next door."

"She's at choir."

"Then fuck me, Timothy."

He let go of my wrists and I tore at his belt.

I got his cock in my hand, hot and heavy, and stroked it until his forehead dropped to my collarbone.

"Meredith."

"Now."

He didn't make me ask twice.

He pushed into me all at once, and the stretch of him made me cry out.

I locked my ankles behind his back and he drove into me, deep and steady, his hand under my hip tilting me up to meet him.

I dug my nails into his shoulders.

The bed hit the wall, and neither of us cared.

"Look at me," he said.

I looked.

His eyes were dark and wild and completely on me, and that undid me faster than his hands did.

I came hard, clenching around him, and he groaned and followed me over, buried to the root, shaking.

We lay there afterward in the wet, tangled sheets.

His thumb moved on my hip.

I should have left it alone.

"What do you want to do about the house?" I said.

His thumb stopped.

"Nothing about the house in bed," Timothy said.

"Timothy."

"That was the rule. You said deal."

"That was last week, before I knew whose house it was."

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