The Naked Fisherman by Jewel E. Ann
Chapter Twenty-Five
I tooka quick shower and put on my nicest sheer blouse and fitted jeans. Then, I plugged in my curling iron and applied a little makeup.
“You about done?” Rory poked her head into my bathroom.
“Yeah.” I glossed my lips.
“It’s casual. You don’t have to get all dolled up.”
I shrugged. “Yesterday, it was fun having my hair curled. And with my day job, I rarely get to look dolled up. So … why not?”
I smiled at her reflection in my bathroom mirror.
“You’re absolutely right.” She took my big comb and ran it through my hair. “It took me awhile, after I was released, to feel like I wanted to make the effort. But sometimes we do. Even if it’s just for family and close friends.” She grabbed the curling iron and nodded for me to sit on the toilet seat. “Even if it’s just for ourselves.”
I closed my eyes and hummed as she curled my hair. I loved it. I had always loved it.
“I should have told you to invite Brendon.”
My eyes opened. “I’m not sure my feelings for him are the same as his are for me. I think he’s great. And we do fall into the easiest conversations, but I don’t know if there’s more. At least for me. So I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“Oh, sweetie, I think you’re just not seeing it. Oftentimes, the greatest friendships turn into beautiful love stories. So I’m not saying he’s your forever, but I want you to always keep your heart open to let love grow. Not everything in life starts with sparks and flies to the sky in a wave of butterflies.”
“Were you and Dad friends first?”
“No.” She laughed. “Those were sparks.”
“Clearly, those sparks worked for you two.”
She nodded slowly, hesitantly. “Until it didn’t.”
Because you went to prison.
I opened my mouth to ask her why. Why was she growing marijuana? Why did she risk everything for drugs?
But I knew Rose and Tiffany were on the screened-in porch waiting for us. And Fisher was upstairs taking a shower.
It wasn’t the right time.
“There.” She unplugged the curling iron. “You have the most beautiful hair.” She loosely ran her fingers through my dark curls to relax them just a bit, giving my hair a beach wave look.
I grinned. “I have your hair.”
“Only better.” She kissed my cheek. “Let’s go eat. Would you mind running upstairs and knocking on Fisher’s door? Tell him everyone is here and dinner is ready.”
“Sure.” I held my enthusiasm inside. Go get Fisher?
Yes, please.
As Rory carried a tray of drinks to the porch, I ran upstairs and opened the door. No Fisher in the kitchen. So I listened for him as I made my way to his bedroom. Just as I reached for the handle, he opened it.
A whoosh of his clean scent nearly made my knees give out on me, not to mention his killer smile.
Jeans. Tee. Wet hair.
He glanced over my shoulder as if to see if anyone else was upstairs with me.
“Dinner is ready. And your date is here.”
“Where is here?” He gave me a quick once-over that I felt.
“Downstairs on the porch.”
Pursing his lips, face so serious, he nodded several times. “Well, get your sexy ass in here.” He grabbed my arm and yanked me into his bedroom.
“Fisher!” I yelled a little louder than intended. I wasn’t expecting him to do that.
Or shut the door behind us.
Or toss me onto his bed.
Or dive onto the bed after me.
I flinched. “Eek!” I curled my body, not completely trusting him to not squash me.
Like a cat, he landed on all fours, straddling my body. His grinning face hovering over mine.
“Hi, beautiful.”
Oh, naked fisherman … how does it feel to carry my heart in your pocket? Its fate solely dependent on you?
“Handsome.” I matched his grin a second before he kissed me.
One leg at a time, he wedged himself between my legs and rested over me on his elbows. Our kiss so slow, almost lazy. Maybe it was the comfort in knowing it wasn’t our first, and it wouldn’t be our last.
“You smell edible.” He kissed my neck while inhaling deeply.
“They’re waiting on us,” I said with little to no true concern in my voice. I liked the naked fisherman universe too much to care about the mortals on planet Earth or the screened-in porch.
He took liberty with the deep exposed V of my shirt that I left unbuttoned to the top of my cleavage. Then he took more, unbuttoning the next two buttons.
“Fisher,” I whispered on a weak breath. His touch never failed to jolt my pulse out of rhythm, never failed to rob my brain of blood and sensible thoughts.
“What is it?” he whispered, a breath before sliding my bra down just enough to expose my nipple.
On a hitched breath, my back arched into his touch as he sucked it slowly, teasing it with his tongue and teeth.
“W-we …” I tried so hard to be the mature one, but it was a monumental struggle. “We … have to go to … dinner.”
“Yeah?” he said between kisses, working his way to my other breast.
“Yes …” I hissed when he trapped my nipple between his teeth and tugged it.
“Cock blocker.” He lifted his head and adjusted my bra back into place before buttoning those two buttons.
I giggled. “You can’t call me that. I want …” I bit my lips together before anymore words tumbled from my lips.
“You want what?” He grinned, dipping his face to my neck again. Biting and sucking it. “My cock?”
My fingers played in his hair as my drunk eyes drifted shut again. “Yes,” I whispered.
“Well, what are we going to do about that?” He continued his assault on my neck, and I felt certain my neck and face would be red from his scratchy face.
“Fisher …” I didn’t recognize that voice, but it was mine. It was me wrapping my legs around his waist, begging him for … well, his cock.
He chuckled, coming onto his arms to get off the bed, to get off of me.
My legs locked around his waist and my arms did the same around his neck.
Again, he laughed, standing with me wrapped around him. “I think you said dinner’s ready.”
“Fisher,” I whispered just before kissing his neck the way he had been kissing mine just seconds earlier. “I …”
Kiss.
“Want …”
Kiss. Bite. Long lick up to his ear.
“You.”
He pushed my back against the door and grabbed my face, kissing the life out of me. I felt it heaving in my breasts and radiating all the way down to the spot his erection hit between my legs.
“Fuck …” He pulled away breathless as his forehead hit the door just behind my shoulder. “You are killing me.”
I grinned, teasing the nape of his neck with my fingers. Killing Fisher wasn’t my intention, but I didn’t exactly not like it either. My confidence feasted on his words.
“When is dinner?” He lifted his head. “Because I already know this erection is going to last more than four hours. I might need a trip to urgent care.” He reached for my legs, forcing me to unlock them so he could set me on my feet. “Now, go tell them I’m on my way. In four hours.” He sauntered to his bathroom.
“Are you going to …”
He glanced back at me as I wrinkled my nose and bit my lip. “Rub one off? Yes. Fuck yes. It’s the only way I’ll make it to dinner.”
“Do you want me to—”
“Nope. I’ve got it.” He shut the bathroom door and locked it.
I covered my mouth and squealed into my cupped hands. So much dopamine in my veins. Fisher was the most glorious addiction. And I wanted him. All of him. And I knew what that meant, but I didn’t care. I wanted to have sex with Fisher. Lots of naked fisherman sex. And after that? I didn’t know. I just knew we’d figure it out a day at a time.