Play Along (Windy City Series Book 4)
Chapter 27

Stepping into the hallway, I take Kennedy’s face in both hands and press my mouth to hers, desperate to touch her.

Her teeth chatter when I pull away.

“God, you’re fucking freezing, Kenny.”

“I don’t care,” she pants against my lips. “I couldn’t not see you.”

Fuck me with that confession. She knew I was going to have a bad night, and still, she wanted to be here.

Bending, I wrap her wet legs around my hips and carry her into my apartment. I kick close the door behind me, but still I don’t set her down. I don’t care that there’s a river of water in our wake. I don’t care that I’m getting just as soaked as her.

Fingers threaded through my hair, she dots kisses up my neck as I carry her. Her lips are cold, sending little shocks to my system as if I weren’t already amped up.

“Fuck, Ken,” I exhale. “I missed you.”

She pulls back to look at me, sopping wet hair glued to her face, brows narrowed in confusion.

I halt in my steps. “What?”

“I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be missed.”

There are not enough words to describe how much I hate that. That she has felt so disregarded by a select few that she doesn’t believe anyone in their right mind would miss her. Could miss her.

If only she understood just how desperately I longed for her while she was gone. Fuck, I longed for her when she was still here. I haven’t stopped craving this woman since the day I met her in the bathroom and she asked for my advice about a fucking job.

“And how does it make you feel?” I ask.

A shy smile makes its appearance on her lips. “Important.”

“Yeah,” I agree with a nod. “The most important to me.”

She hides back into the crook of my neck as I continue to the bathroom.

“Isaiah?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you too.”

And I swear to God I’m living in an alternate reality because in what world do I get to hear that Kennedy Kay missed me.

“Oh yeah? Just how much did you miss me?”

“So much.” Her lips meet my ear. “I had to touch myself thinking about you every night I was gone just so I could fall asleep.”

Fuck. Me.

Keeping her up with one arm, I use my other hand to turn my shower on to the warmest setting. “And what exactly did you think about while you touched yourself?”

“I thought about your mouth.” She presses her mouth to mine. “Your tongue.” Her own licks a path across my lower lip, pulling out a deep, needy groan from me. “And I thought about how much I need you inside of me.”

“Fuck.”

“Please tell me you will tonight.”

I set her on her feet in front of the shower, arm still holding her to me, trying to keep her warm before reaching behind her and testing the water.

“I will, baby. You’re not leaving my bed until you’ve been thoroughly fucked.”

I push her wet hair off her face, bringing my mouth down to hers as I start to unpeel her layers. Her jacket first. It falls in a wet heap on the tiled floor. I lift her heavy, rain-soaked shirt up and over her head, and it’s only for a moment that our mouths disconnect before she’s pulling me back down to meet her.

She kicks off her shoes as I run a palm over her stomach, curving over her side, my single hand almost covering the entire length of her spine. She’s freezing to the touch, her pale skin painted in goose bumps. With a simple flick of my wrist, her bra falls between us, and as pretty as it is, it’s soaking wet and needs to go.

Her nipples pebble between us, and I have to pull away from her mouth, leaning my forehead on hers so I can look at her. Somehow, it’s the first time I’ve seen them without the barrier of fabric covering them.

Fucking perfect, just like the rest of her. Soft, creamy skin, painted with countless freckles. Nipples peaked hard and begging for my mouth. I circle the pad of my thumb over one as we both watch me flick it, much in the way I’m going to do with my tongue.

Hand cupping her tit, I squeeze.

She arches into me, accompanied by this pretty little moan.

“How the fuck is every part of you so goddamn perfect, Kennedy?”

“You don’t think they’re too small?”

I pause at that, my hand still cupping her.

Sure, my hands are above average in size, and yes, Kennedy is short and most of her is small, but I couldn’t give two fucks how big her tits are.

Before immediately dispelling her concern, I ask, “Do you feel that way, or did someone tell you that you should feel that way?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Did he make you believe that?”

She shakes her head, trying to brush me off. “It was a quick conversation.”

“That you and he had how many times?”

Her eyes leave mine. “A few times.”

My jaw works, but even though my head is angry at her ex, my hands are soft as they continue to roam over her skin, trying to warm her up.

Don’t even get me started on the fact he never helped her, never let her learn or explore or try. He never took the time to reiterate that she’s wanted and worthy. He did, however, continually remind her that she was reluctant towards intimacy, and now I’m learning that he let this woman—who I view as the most perfect one in the world—believe that she wasn’t.

“Kenny, I couldn’t give two shits about what your body looks like, but just so you’re aware, I have never seen someone so perfectly made for me. And if you’re so concerned about the size of your tits, I have no problem putting you on your knees, making you hold them together, and showing you just how perfectly sized they are for me to fuck.”

Her mouth slightly parts, her eyes lighting with intrigue. “Would you do that?”

“Yeah, baby, I’ll fuck your tits, but tonight, I need to fuck this.” My hand slides down her zipper, my fingers gliding along the seam of the denim, building friction right where her clit is.

A desperate moan escapes her, and that sound only grows when I cover her nipple with my mouth and suck.

“Oh my God.” Her hands slide into my hair, holding me to her. “Keep doing that.”

I twirl my tongue before slipping her nipple between my teeth and gently tugging.

She pulls my hair at that, and I memorize the information, replaceing another thing my wife likes.

With the water warming behind her, I drop to my knees, kissing across her chest to focus on her other nipple. My hands stay occupied by undoing her jeans. I pull them down, peeling the wet denim off her legs, and leaving her in only a pair of panties.

Hands on her ass, I pull her into me and drop my mouth to kiss over her pussy, right over the lace. She folds over me when I run my rough tongue along her slit, using the fabric to create a delicious friction.

“Need you,” she begs, grabbing at the back of my shirt and pulling until it’s up and over my head. “Please.” She tosses it aside before urging me to stand with her. Kennedy shimmies off her underwear, leaving her entirely naked when she grabs my wrist and brings my fingers to rub against her core. “Please.”

With one hand warm against her, tracing every fold of her pussy, Kennedy makes quick work of my pants as I rid my shoes. She takes it upon herself to tug off my boxer briefs, letting my hard and ready cock spring free.

She moans, this hungry, desperate sound, licking her lips as she looks at me.

I push a finger inside of her, stealing her attention. “Don’t even think about licking your lips again while you’re staring at my cock, or this is going to be over a lot quicker than either of us would like.”

Instead, she wraps a firm hand around it, giving it a long tug.

“Jesus, fuck.” Falling forward, I smack my free hand against the shower glass to hold me up. “Please, Ken. I need to make this last.”

My hips fall right into hers as she strokes me, my thigh pressing up against her core. I move my hand and push my leg flush against her, watching the way my skin glistens in her wake as she rolls over it.

She kisses my chest, reaching up on her toes to latch onto my neck, continuing to stroke me. And God, I’m so hard already, it’s a bit concerning what this woman can do to me so quickly.

I’m going to fucking come if I don’t do something to stop her.

With the steam billowing from inside the shower, I throw an arm around her waist, pick her up, and carry her inside.

She shivers as soon as she’s under the warm stream, as if the change of temperature was too quick, but soon enough her body adjusts, calming and melting as the water runs over her.

She tosses her head back, letting the water wash over her face, letting it flow over her pretty hair. Kennedy’s still holding my forearms for support, and I can’t keep my eyes off her.

The way the water rolls over her curves, even the ones she thinks are too small. The way she tightens her thighs together when she hears me hum my appraisal. The way she pulls me into her, as if she doesn’t want me to be too far.

I step under the stream with her, into her arms, my palms gliding down her back and over the curve of her ass as I map a path of warm kisses up her neck and behind her ear.

I bite it.

“What the hell kind of spell do you have me under, Kenny?”

She shakes her head as if she has no idea, her now warm body molding to mine. She lifts her seeking hips, replaceing my cock, and rubbing it against her.

“I want you,” she says, folded up with me.

“Yeah?”

“More than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone.”

I swear my cock grows harder at her confession, and when my hand smooths over her ass, my middle finger slipping between her cheeks, and down to stroke over her center, I can feel just how truthful she’s being.

I coat myself in her arousal.

“More than you want to come right now?” I tease.

“I want you . . .” she repeats. “To make me come.”

Chuckling, I reach behind her, pulling the showerhead off its bracket.

Maintaining the water on her in hopes of keeping her warm, I flip her around. Arm slung heavy around her waist, I hold her back to my chest, my cock slipping between her ass.

She grounds back against me.

“Kenny.” My tone is full of warning. “I’ll fuck that one day too, but what did I just say?”

She arches again. “That you need to make this last.”

“Exactly. So let me get you off before I come all over your back.”

“That’d be fine by me. We both know how quick your response time is. At least you’re not wearing pants this go around. That’d be embarrassing.”

I playfully nip at her neck. “Little brat.”

She laughs but it quickly dies when I nudge her feet farther apart and slip my hand between her legs. I give her pussy a couple of taps before spreading her open with my fingers, keeping her that way when I bring the showerhead down to pound against her swollen clit.

“Oh,” she moans, her head falling back to my chest.

I keep her held upright, adding a finger against her clit, adding to the pressure of the pulsing water.

Her chattering teeth are back but this time they’re accompanied by buckling knees and white knuckles as she holds my arms in place.

“How many times did you make yourself come while you were gone?”

“Three,” she pants.

“And you didn’t think to call me? Facetime me? Do you understand how fucking pretty you are when you come, Kennedy?”

“It didn’t last long,” she says, head thrown back, eyes closed. “Every time I pictured your fingers instead of my own, I came.”

I rub languid circles over her clit. “Is this what you were picturing?”

She nods frantically.

“You’re going to have to come three times tonight to make up for those times I didn’t get to see it.”

She nods again, a soft whimper escaping her.

I bring the showerhead closer, making sure the rhythmic pulsing hits exactly where she needs it, and when I drag my thumb down to add to the friction, I feel her entire pussy flutter against me as she comes.

I’m obsessed with this girl, that’s fairly obvious, so it’s probably no surprise that I’m obsessed with the way she comes—with my fingers on her clit and my name on her lips, chanted like a pleading prayer.

She slumps in my arms, her wet hair sticking to my chest.

I always wondered how dark Kennedy Kay Auburn would get when it’s wet.

Wondered what it would look like threaded through my fingers.

Wondered what it would look like draped on my lap.

And soon, I’m going to replace out exactly what it looks like sprawled over my pillow as I fuck her.

Replacing the showerhead to its rightful home, I keep a possessive arm around her, careful not to let her fall. I don’t trust her knees at all at this point.

Taking a few steps back, I drag her with me to sit on the ledge in the back of the shower. Enough of the water is still able to reach us, keeping her warm, though I’m fairly certain her orgasm is keeping her plenty hot judging by the temperature of her skin.

“Such a good girl for me,” I whisper against her neck, decorating the slope of her shoulder with kisses.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

I chuckle, remembering that day at the field when I told her she could call me a good boy while she straddled me naked.

“You let me inside of you and I’ll be such a good boy for you, baby.”

To my surprise, Kennedy stands from my lap, turning around, her beautiful naked body on full display. She uses my shoulders for support, setting one knee at a time against the bench to straddle me.

I almost come when she drops onto my lap, her pussy rubbing slow circles against my cock.

“Do that again.”

My head falls back to the glass behind me when she rolls her hips, her arousal coating the tip of my dick.

She slips a hand behind my neck, urging me back up, bringing her mouth to crash down on mine. I focus on her warm lips, her hot tongue, her hips creating tight little circles, building the friction.

“You feel so good,” she cries, her hands falling down to roam against my chest.

“Fuck. I love the way you touch me.”

She whimpers at the praise, her face falling into the crook of my neck, and it’s then I remember—she’s never touched anyone the way she touches me.

I feel real possessive over that fact.

Her tits bounce and her thighs flex as she rocks against me. Back and forth. Back and forth, and every time she lifts her hips, the head of my dick nudges against her clit.

Until finally, it slips, notching at her entrance. We both still. Every muscle in her legs and abdomen are wound tight to keep her from sinking down.

I speak against her damp skin. “Do you want to fuck me, or do you want me to fuck you?”

If she wants to be in charge, I’ll happily watch her sink down on my cock, right here in the shower. But if she wants me to fuck her, I need to take her to my bed where I can do it properly for our first time.

She pauses, contemplating as the steam billows around us. Her handprints are etched on the glass walls and my dick is poised at her entrance.

“I want you to fuck me,” she finally decides.

That’s all I need to hear for me to pick her up, turn off the shower, and carry us both to bed.

We’re soaking, water running off us, but I couldn’t care less when I cup the back of her head, protecting it to lay her back against my mattress. Wet hair, flushed skin. Legs spread and glistening between them.

Fucking angel.

I stand there, watching, trying to figure out what I did to get so lucky that I ended up in this position. If you would’ve told me three years ago that Kennedy Kay would be laying naked and spread on my mattress, I probably would’ve fucked my hand to the idea, but I definitely wouldn’t have believed you.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks.

I shake my head, climbing on the bed to sit between her legs, heels to ass.

“What?”

I track every inch of her. “God sure did take his time on you, honey.”

Her smile turns soft and a bit shy.

I kiss a path up her stomach, my hair dripping water onto her belly, her chest, her neck until I’m draped over her, holding myself up on a single forearm.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask, my lips pressing to hers.

She runs a hand up my bare spine, hooking her leg over my hip. “I’m thinking it’s about time we consummate this goddamn marriage.”

My cock jumps at the idea and I huff a laugh, this bright smile reflecting on Kennedy’s lips.

Rain pounds against the windows of my apartment and another rumble of thunder drowns out our panting breaths, but my sole focus is on this woman beneath me. I’m so consumed I could almost forget about the storm.

She pushes my hair out of my face, her thumb dusting over my birthmark by my eye before her hand follows the path of my arm, my side, my ass, until she wraps a fist around my dick.

I push into her hand. “I have condoms in the nightstand.”

She doesn’t make a move for it, continuing to stroke me, so after a beat of silence, I reach over her to grab one.

“I’m good without one,” she says to stop me.

It works. I halt right there, arm halfway to my side table.

I would never in a million years consider going without one. But as always, Kennedy is my exception. She’s my wife, for fuck’s sake. If she’s good without a condom, so am I.

I don’t have to explain that I’ve been tested, seeing as she has access to all my medical records and already knows. And as of last weekend, she’s also aware there hasn’t been anyone else for a long fucking time.

“I’m good too.”

She nods against the pillow, bringing my lips back to hers.

We kiss for a while, our bodies writhing against each other, our hips frantically looking for friction. Kennedy runs her thumb over my slit, pushing the precum down to coat my shaft.

Lips disconnecting, we hold eye contact as she lines me up with her entrance. We stay there for a moment, the tension thick, the anticipation heavy in the room. I watch her, this beautiful girl who I haven’t been able to take my eyes off for years.

And it’s no different now.

I rub myself up and down her slit, coating me in her before I press my thumb down on the head of my cock, curl my hips forward, and push into her.

Slowly. Torturously slowly. Inch by fucking inch.

My tip is hardly past her entrance and I’m on the verge of losing it. She’s so goddamn tight. So fucking warm.

“More,” she pleads, but it comes out like a cry.

I pull back and push in again, watching more of my length disappear inside of her this time, but I quickly meet resistance.

Her entire body is wound tight when I’m only halfway in.

“If it hurts, tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“No. Don’t stop. I can take it.”

A smirk lifts on my lips. “Yeah, you can, but you’ve got to relax for me, Kenny.”

Her brown eyes are begging for me to help her.

Leaning in, I kiss her, distract her. Let my tongue focus on hers for a while as I slowly work myself inside her. Kennedy stretches around me, her clit pulsing against my thumb as I circle it, hoping to make this easier on her.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. Taking me so well.”

I feel her body relax into the mattress, her hands freely roaming my back when I slide the rest of the way home.

Holy. Fuck.

My pelvic bone is flush with hers, Kennedy’s legs spread wide to accommodate me. I’ve never felt anything so tight, so warm, so fucking wet that I swear to God, I’ll be lucky if I give her three solid pumps before I’m coming inside her.

She dusts her fingertips up and down my spine. I slowly kiss along her jaw and down her neck as we both adjust.

When she pushes her heels into my ass, urging me to move, I shift my hips and pull out partway before pushing back in again.

She fucking moans and I almost lose it once again.

Breathing through my nose to hold back, I focus on the way I disappear into her, my pace slow and cautious at first. But when I start to feel less resistance, I pick up speed, keeping my chest flush to hers, rolling over her entire body with each pass.

“Yes, Isaiah,” she cries, her nails digging into my back.

“God, Kennedy. That feels so good. Look at you right now. Fucking unreal.”

I hover above her, using my arms on either side of her to prop me up. I take her left hand in mine, lacing our fingers together and pinning it to the mattress. She wraps her other hand around my neck, pulling my lips to meet hers.

We’re fucking slowly, hands intertwined, tongues tangled.

And shit, if this isn’t different than it’s ever been. Better than it’s ever been.

I knew it’d be different with her, but I didn’t know it’d be like this.

Soft and intimate, and still so fucking hot.

She moans into my mouth as I thrust into her again, all while circling the pad of my finger over the stone of her ring.

She chuckles against me. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh yeah?” I pull away from her mouth. “And what’s that?”

“You’re trying to make me fall in love with you, fucking me like this.”

A mischievous smirk slides across my lips. “Is it working?”

She nudges her nose against mine, a sweet smile gracing her mouth. “Don’t make me answer that.”

I’ll take that response as a win, so I keep doing what I’m doing. Fucking her missionary, kissing her senseless, and holding her hand the whole damn time. She tightens around me, her pussy creating this delicious friction as I reach between us, working her clit in time with my thrusts.

“I’m going to come,” she whimpers, breaths coming hard and fast.

“Please,” I beg. “Please come on my cock. I need it. God, that’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted.”

Her lower lip begins to tremble as her orgasm takes over, and I have a front-row seat to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes as she tries to hold eye contact. The marks her nails leave down my arm. The sweet way she says my name when she’s able to replace words again.

I’m fucking mesmerized by it all.

She holds me to her, so close I can feel every desperate breath she takes, every moan that escapes from the back of her throat, and I fucking love it.

This girl who was once so uncomfortable with even the simplest of touches is now holding me as tight as possible as she comes.

Once it’s clear she’s on her way back down, I note the way her muscles relax, pressing her back into the mattress. I slowly pull out, my cock dripping in her arousal, her soft whines like music to my ears when I leave her empty.

Without hesitation, I slide down the mattress to press my face between her legs.

“Isaiah,” she cries. “I’m sensitive.”

Fuck yes, she is. She’s still fluttering against my tongue as I lick up every bit of her release.

“Shit,” she curses, rolling her hips in time with my mouth.

Her legs shake around me, her thighs pressing against my ears. I could easily make her come again like this, but I can tell she can’t take much more tonight, and I need to come with her just once.

Sitting up, I hook an arm around her waist.

“Come here,” I say, even though I’m the one dragging her up with me. She’s so fucking easy to toss around, to position where I need her.

And that’s what I do, with my back against the headboard and my legs sprawled, I straddle her over my lap. She sits on my thighs, her body still rolling with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

She’s so fucking perfect like this. So fucking undone. Wet hair, a tangled mess, lips swollen from mine.

Cock in hand, I stroke long, slow tugs, twisting around the head as I watch her.

Her brown eyes are locked on my dick, pupils blown when I squeeze a bead of precum from the tip.

Kennedy scoots back a couple inches on my legs before folding over, moving my hand out of the way and swallowing down my cock.

“Fuck yes, Kenny. You’re so good at that.” I gather her hair, my attention following the length of her spine down to her perfectly heart-shaped ass propped in the air. I reach over and smack it. “Make me come, baby.”

She bobs, taking me deeper, moaning with every pass.

“Yes. Yes. Fuck. So close.”

Kennedy’s mouth pops off my throbbing cock, giving it one more long lick before sitting up and crawling back over my lap. She wraps a fist around my length, propping herself up on her knees and lining us up.

“Come inside of me?” she asks.

I nod eagerly, head thrown back against the headboard, as I watch her sink down on me.

“Fuck, I’m so hard. I’m so close. I just need you to take it, okay?”

Nodding in agreement, she bends her neck, bringing her lips to mine as she rolls her hips. Once. Twice. Three times.

It feels fucking amazing, but my body has this overwhelming need to pound into her.

Hands roaming, I grip her ass, helping her replace the rhythm I need.

She whimpers, her lips moving to my neck as I work us together. Bending my knees, I fit us even tighter together, fucking her from underneath as I hold her in one steady position.

She screams my name, head thrown back, pinching her own nipples when her third orgasm hits, and this time when she comes, I’m right there with her. I spill inside of her, telling her how perfect she is, how much I want her, how good she feels.

I hold her warm body to mine, our heaving chests expanding and contracting together. She kisses me the whole time we come down and I swear to God, I’m a different person after it’s all said and done.

But she’s the one who voices my thoughts aloud.

“I had no idea,” she whispers between kisses, “it could be like that.”

I run two palms over her back, trying to keep her warm. “Me neither, Ken. It’s never felt like that before.”

Pushing her hair out of her face, I stroke her cheekbone, before my eyes are drawn to where we’re connected.

My cum is spilling out of her and dripping down her leg.

“I’m on,” she exhales heavily, “birth control. I should’ve told you that. And I haven’t been with anyone since—”

“Say another man’s name right now,” I cut her off. “I fucking dare you.”

She smirks, pressing her mouth back to mine. “Possessive.”

“You thought I was possessive before we fucked? I feel fucking unhinged now.”

All sorts of possessive thoughts run through my mind. How I want to mark her. Keep her. Fuck her until she forgets about the idea of ever leaving me.

And just like that, the question I was supposed to ask when I saw her screams at the forefront of my brain, forcing me to speak it aloud.

I’m still inside of her. She’s still rocking slowly in my lap.

“How did your interview go?”

Kennedy pauses, her accompanying sigh full of defeat. “It went . . . better than I could’ve hoped for.”

Well . . . fuck.