On bare feet, I speed-walked down the back hallway to the laundry room and slid the pocket door closed. Flipping the lock to engage it, I unbuttoned my jeans and slipped my hand down into my panties without giving it another moment’s consideration.

Wet. So wet. Wetter than I’d been in years. I stroked two fingers over my clit and had to stifle my cry of pleasure against the sheets I’d dumped on top of the dryer.

I closed my eyes, and his face filled my mind’s eye. Desperate need gave his features a severe look that made my heart and pussy throb. The way his forearm flexed with each slippery tug…

My pussy clenched around my fingers.

Is this what you want? To watch me come for you?

“Yes,” I whispered, circling my clit with my wet fingertips.

I’ve been coming for you for years, hermosa…

My back arched as pleasure wound tighter and tighter. I buried three of my fingers deep, as deep as I could, wishing they were any part of him that my pussy clenched around as I came, muffling more cries into his dirty sheets.

“Shit,” I whispered. This was fucking weird, maybe borderline deviant, but goddamn…

I wish I could say it was enough, but as I stood upright, bracing myself against the dryer on wobbly legs, I knew it wouldn’t be.

But it had to be, right?

Disgusted with myself, I turned to the basin sink, and, grabbing the liquid soap, I scrubbed away the evidence of my orgasm. I had to get my shit together. And Tommy… We had to talk about this, get it out in the open, and nip it in the bud before it developed into something neither of us wanted.

The rest of the family was due to arrive at ten, which gave me plenty of time to get everything done with Minerva’s help. While she made pancakes, I went upstairs to change into another of my long bohemian dresses. This one plunged in the front and back and was a bit sexier than I usually wore to a family brunch. But there would be pictures, and I knew it photographed well. I contemplated putting my hair up again, but after playing around with it for a bit, I decided to leave it down. It may be dry and in need of a good trim, but I felt sexy and feral with it down around my shoulders and doing its own thing.

I put on a pair of wedge sandals and made my way back down to the kitchen, where Minnie was pulling a pan of biscuits out of the oven. I donned an apron and immediately got to work helping her spread butter and drizzle honey over them. We’d just finished up that task when Tommy walked into the kitchen.

My belly did a lazy flip when our eyes met, and he gave me that secret, wicked smile.