She rolls her eyes. “Fine, what names do you like?”
Dropping to my back, I slip my hands behind my head and stare up at the star-covered sky. “I don’t know. Something badass. Like, Madden or Axel.”
“Or Snake.” She giggles, laughing at her own joke, something she does often. No one finds Ellie as funny as she does.
“What about Lily for a girl?” she asks, moving on. “I love that name.”
“That’s nice,” I agree. “But if I’m being honest, Elle, the thought of having a girl makes me nervous as hell.”
It’s nerve-wracking either way, but even more so when I think about having a daughter.
She tilts her head at the confession. “Really, why?”
“Because I can teach a boy all sorts of shit,” I explain. “What the hell am I going to teach a girl?”
“All the same things,” she counters, making it sound simple. “Look at everything you and Paw taught me. If not for you two, I wouldn’t know how to change a tire, check my oil, or fish …”
She has a point, but what she fails to realize is I would still rather do them for her. I only showed her how to do those things in case there was ever a time when I couldn’t be there to do it.
“If we do have a girl,” she continues softly, “I hope she finds a boy best friend like I did.”
Considering she is now fucking that best friend, I hope not, but I decide to keep that to myself, not wanting to ruin the moment she’s trying to have.
Looking over, I find myself captivated by her beauty.
Despite my suggestion to dress casually, she chose a long, brown maxi skirt, and I’m not mad about it. The fabric drapes elegantly around her legs as she sits with one knee raised, revealing a delicate anklet and a few toe rings. The white crop top she paired with it offers teasing glimpses of her bare midriff, testing every ounce of my self-control.
What I love most about her attire though, is the white magnolia tucked in the loose waves of her golden hair. A gentle breeze sends those tendrils dancing across her face, proving no one else on this earth is as beautiful as my best friend.
A knowing smile curves her lips as if she just heard my every thought.
Setting her book aside, she crawls over to straddle me. Her skirt shifts to the tops of her thighs, inviting my hands, and the feel of her naked skin has my cock roaring to life.
Bear leaps through the open window, instinctively aware of what’s about to unfold because he’s smart like that.
“Do you remember our secret handshake?” she asks, her voice as soft as her smile.
“Yeah, I remember.”
Personally, I thought the idea of a secret handshake was stupid, but Elle was insistent we have one. She said it would keep our friendship sacred. I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I also wasn’t going to risk being wrong because a life without Ellie would be unlivable.
She extends her hand, waiting for me to prove it.
Lifting mine, we slap our open hands from side to side, then close them into fists, knocking them up and down before finishing with a fist bump and finger wave.
“We need to drop the finger dance,” I grumble. “It’s girly as shit.”
She throws her head back on a laugh, not the least bit offended.
“Okay. How about something like this instead?” A coy smile teases her lips before she slips off her crop top, revealing a slender frame and perky tits adorned in lace.
“That’s a hell of an idea,” I growl, the soft rumble blending with the melody of her laughter.
That laugh soon fades into a sweet little moan when I lift into a sitting position and bury my face into the soft skin of her chest.
Her arms find home around my neck as my lips cherish the tops of her small round globes.
She thinks they are too small, but I think they are perfectly proportionate and complement the rest of her. Besides, she doesn’t need to compensate for anything, not when she has a face like hers.
Dropping my mouth lower, I find a candy-pink nipple straining against the confining lace and nip at it gently, tugging at it with my teeth.
The sexy fucking whimper that escapes her throat sets fire to the blood beneath my skin.
Her hands eagerly slide down my back, tugging at my shirt. “Take this off,” she breathes, each word laced with urgency.
Leaning back, I help her pull it over my head. Before I can resume my position once again, she places a hand on my chest, halting me.
“Not yet. I want to try something,” she whispers, a hint of shyness creeping into her tone.
Intrigued, I allow her to push me to my back. The position brings the heat of her pussy in direct line with my raging cock.
I thrust up at the contact, drawing a heated gasp from her.
It’s instinct now, an innate pulse that’s been ingrained into me forever, my body always fighting to be one with hers.
I don’t get the chance to do it again before she leans over top of me, the angle lifting her bottom from my lap. I’d be disappointed if it wasn’t for the feel of her warm lips raining hot kisses down my chest.
This is the first time she has taken the initiative. Usually, I’m the one exploring her body for hours before sinking myself balls deep, which I’m perfectly content with. It’s actually become my favorite thing to do, but I can’t deny how good it feels to be on the receiving end right now.
