Lucy groans, covering her face with her hands as she sleepily turns in Tim's arms the next morning.
"Morning, sunshine," his first words of the day are a throaty rumble.
She peeks up at him over her hands. "Mmm… god… did I really get naked and then just pass out on you? I'm such a tease." She buries her face against his chest.
He laughs softly, gently tipping her chin up to get her to look at him. "Look, Lucy. I'm very benevolent. You're allowed to get naked with me whenever you want. There doesn't have to be a reason. In fact, if you just want to be naked all the time, we could probably work something out."
She snorts with laughter. "What did I do to deserve such a prince?" But while her words are mocking, the adoration in her eyes is not.
"Well… it just so happens that I am still naked," she wiggles her eyebrows, while simultaneously dragging her toe up the length of his calf.
"Are you?" Tim lifts the cover up and peers underneath as if to verify the validity of her statement, "Interesting… I hadn't noticed."
Her cheeks tinge just the slightest shade of pink when his gaze lingers far longer than necessary. She playfully pushes him back and reclaims the cover, pulling it back against her chest.
"And… it is still my birthday."
"Is that so?" A low growl erupts from his throat, and both of his hands disappear back under the blankets to grip her by the curve of her hips and haul her back against him so that every bit of her is pressed up against him.
He squeezes her butt with both hands. "And what does that have to do with it?"
"You know…" she nuzzles her nose against his, and he's unable to suppress his grin even as he shakes his head, eyes going wide in feigned cluelessness as he waits for her to spell it out.
"You owe me, Timothy…" she presses a seductive kiss to the corner of his mouth. And this time it's her hand that disappears under the sheets.
He arches a cocky eyebrow, enjoying the feel of her fingers trailing down his abs toward the waistband of his shorts. "Owe you what, exactly?"
His swagger lasts only about as long as it takes her to slip her hand into his boxers, his breath hitching as she wraps her fingers around his length.
The tables turn, and he feels the buzz of anticipation and loss of control that comes with knowing just how good she can make him feel, how much just one touch can put him completely at her mercy.
"Mmm," she moans softly as he stiffens in her grasp, kissing her way down his chest and scraping her teeth over his nipple before finally responding to his question, "Birthday." She works her hand up and down his cock, "Sex."
She pouts when he reaches his hand down to capture hers, halting the movement. He flips her onto her back, and then he is jerking the sheets completely off of her. Lucy gasps in response to the rush of cold air against her skin, while Tim threads his fingers through hers and pins her wandering hand to the mattress.
He presses a chaste kiss to her cheek that is at complete odds with the hunger in his gaze as his eyes roam greedily over her body. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"
And this time when she shivers, it's in response to more than just the air conditioning. He barely brushes his lips over hers, chuckling as she arches up in an attempt to prolong the contact, instead kissing along her jaw and then down her neck, shifting down her body until he closes his mouth over her breast, the tight bud of her nipple firm and delicious between his lips, against his tongue. First tasting one and then the next as she tangles her fingers into his hair.
He pauses his assault to glance up at her, enjoying every bit of her bliss — eyes squeezed close, lips parted just enough to allow the breathy sounds of her gratification to escape, chest heaving, and back arching to ensure his focus stays exactly where she wants it.
"Feel good?" he teases arrogantly.
"Tim," she whines in protest at the interruption, her hand guiding him back toward her breast as she hooks her leg around his waist in search of part of his body to grind against. And holy fucking shit, she is so unbelievably sexy when she's like this — completely uninhibited in the pursuit of her pleasure.
He shifts his thigh between her legs, and she wastes no time claiming it as her own.
"God, I could do this all day," he groans before dipping his head to reclaim her nipple. And he really and truly could.
But apparently that's not the case for Lucy. Her eyes fly open, and her movements quite literally grind to a stop as she turns her head to look at the clock on their bedside table.
"Oh my god!" she pushes up against him, and attempts to reclaim her hand, but he doesn't budge. "Tim! Shit. I didn't realize it was so late. I have to go. I have brunch; they're going to be waiting for me."
She attempts to squirm out from under him again, but he just shakes his head, staring down at her until she stops trying to escape.
"Brunch is going to have to wait, Lucy…" Her eyes go wide as she stares up at him, clearly taken aback by the firmness of his tone, the lack of humor in his hungry gaze.
Her head bobs up and down as she silently nods her assent, and his lips soften into a devilish smile. He gives her breast a final teasing nip, going a little rougher than he normally would and enjoying her little gasp of surprise.
He certainly has no complaints about Lucy's willingness to take charge and go after what she wants in bed, but he's also enjoying this newfound compliance.
He continues to make his way down her body, and her knees spread wide to accommodate his broad shoulders even before he reaches his destination. Clearly, thoughts of being late to brunch have been entirely forgotten.
He presses a kiss to her hip, his mouth quirking up at the corner when a shiver of anticipation courses through her as his lips continue to follow the lines of her body, the tip of his nose brushing along the crease of her thigh as he makes his way to the main event.
"It's your birthday, baby…" he licks his lips, hooking his hand under one of her thighs before settling her leg over his shoulder. He uses his fingers to spread her open, and she shudders as his breath warms her sensitive skin, "And I am going to take such good care of you."
Lucy does, in fact, arrive to brunch a little late and a lot flustered, her cheeks flaming in a way that she is certain broadcasts the fact that she was just having ridiculously hot sex with a man that both of these women consider a brother.
Her mind flashes back to the way the attentive foreplay had suddenly transformed into something else entirely — she'd still been recovering from the first earth-shattering orgasm when he'd flipped her over without warning, an arm under her hips yanking her up onto her knees so quickly she'd barely had time to balance herself on her forearms before he had thrust himself inside of her from behind.
Her thighs involuntarily clench together at just the thought of how good it had felt to have him penetrating her so deeply from that angle, all the while his fingers skillfully working over her clit. The explosive pleasure when she'd come not one, but two more times as he'd relentlesslessly drilled her in pursuit of his own release.
She's never been concerned with being particularly quiet in the bedroom, but she is certain she has never been as loud as she'd been when her forehead had collapsed down on her arms and her entire body had continued to vibrate with pleasure for what seemed like an implausible amount of time afterward.
He had chuckled throatily, somehow still functioning while she dissolved into a puddle, flopping against his chest as he'd attempted to maneuver her into an upright seated position. He'd kissed her forehead and then carried her into the bathroom, unceremoniously depositing her in the shower as she'd gaped up at him in disbelief.
"Better get a move on, Lucy," he'd warned, "Or you're going to be late to brunch."
She wipes a hand over her brow. The garden terrace is beautiful, but she's kind of wishing they'd opted for somewhere with AC.
Lucy exchanges hugs with both Genny and Angela, while apologizing to them as well as to production for her tardiness.
Genny waves a hand to dismiss her apology, "Not that we aren't happy to see you Lucy, but Angela and I are happy to spend as much of our morning as possible sipping mimosas, so we're all good."
Angela nods her agreement, lifting her glass to acknowledge her arrival. "Get on board, Lucy; you've got some catching up to do."
She laughs, picking up her own waiting mimosa to join in on the toast.
"So… eventful morning?" Angela asks, her eyes lighting up with a devious glimmer as she studies Lucy once they've completed their celebratory cheers in honor of her birthday.
Lucy flushes, "Oh… um, you know… last night just went a little late…. I'm so glad you both were able to make it; I hope you guys had a good time!" She finishes with a lame attempt to redirect the conversation.
Angela and Genny exchange glances before bursting into laughter.
"You know what, that's fine. We really don't need any details," Genny reassures.
"Speak for yourself!" Angela interjects, ducking to avoid the butter packet that Genny launches in her direction.
Lucy tugs uncomfortably at her collar, wishing someone, anyone, would turn on a damn fan or something.
"Leave the poor girl alone," Genny orders through her laughter. "You're clearly making her uncomfortable, Ang."
Angela snorts, "She's married to Tim. What could be more uncomfortable than that?"
The two women crack up again, and Lucy finds herself wondering just how many mimosas they'd had before she'd arrived. She takes a long swig of her own drink.
"Sorry… sorry," Genny gasps, "Clearly, Angela and I don't get out like this very often. Young children at home and all of that. Seriously, how are you, Lucy? How's Tim? How are things going with you both?"
Lucy's eyes go wide at the barrage of questions, and she ponders if maybe it would be easier just to detail their morning exploits.
"I'm good. We're good. Tim is — he's great," she immediately softens, going back to her descriptor of choice from the night prior, "He's really, really wonderful."
Angela snorts, "Now that's not an adjective I'm used to hearing to describe Tim."
Genny smacks her on the arm, "Stop it. Tim is wonderful."
And then the two women are guffawing again, and Lucy finds herself contemplating whether something other than mimosas might be in the mix.
"Can you believe he was dumb enough to bet us this wouldn't work? We should have raised the stakes, Genny! I could have gotten free child care for the rest of my damn life out of this."
Genny nods her agreement as Lucy frowns.
"Bet?" She asks in confusion, looking back and forth between the two women.
"He didn't tell you?" Angela asks, still battling to control her laughter. "How else do you think we got him to agree to do the show?"
"Oh," Lucy says slowly, unsure what to make of this new revelation. "What were the terms?"
The two women immediately sober, seeming to realize that Lucy isn't smiling along with them.
"You know what? Bet's the wrong word for it," Genny intercedes. "It was more of an agreement. Just that if he gave the show a try, we'd back off of his love life a little bit."
"And it was forever ago," Angela hurries to clarify, "He is obviously crazy about you now, Lucy, but we all know he can be a bit of an idiot sometimes."
Lucy nods, because they're right. What does it matter why Tim decided to do the show? It doesn't change how they feel about each other now. Right?
She forces a smile, pushing aside her lingering discomfort as she tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but it's difficult for her not to replay their rocky start with this new perspective in mind. It seems strange, given all they'd gone through, that he wouldn't have even thought to mention it, even in passing.
It's not until things go quiet, and two pairs of eyes are studying her with concern that she realizes they are waiting for her to say something.
"I'm sorry; I think I missed the question."
And this time when the two women exchange glances, there's not any giggling.
Genny's voice is soft, "I was just asking how you were feeling about Isabel showing up out of the blue."
Lucy shrugs, eyes wandering to the rustling leaves in the canopy of trees overhead as she contemplates her answer. "I don't really know how to feel," she confesses. "I'd be lying if I didn't admit it's a little intimidating. She's beautiful, and it's obvious how much he loved her, but Tim has been wonder— he's been really reassuring."
She chews on her bottom lip, wondering if she should even voice her next concern aloud, but who better to give her insight into Tim than these two women? "But sometimes… it's hard to tell if he's really ready to move on, if he really wants to do this all again."
She pauses, "And now… with what you said about the bet — I knew Tim was skeptical about the process, but knowing that he did this just to prove it wouldn't work…" She trails off, still trying to make sense of why the idea of this bet is so unsettling to her.
"Lucy, please don't let me running my big mouth make you doubt Tim or his intentions," Angela pleads. "He doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do, and he may not have been willing to admit it at the time, but he wouldn't have agreed to do the show if some part of him didn't really want this to work.
"He'd do a lot to prove me and Genny wrong, but getting married and spending eight weeks on a reality TV is beyond extreme, even for Tim.'"
"He adores you, Lucy, and I think the two of you are pretty damn amazing together," Genny adds, and Lucy notices there's a new wariness in her expression, "But if you're having doubts… listen, at the end of the day, you have to do what's right for you, but please just promise me you'll try and be careful with his heart; please don't blindside him at the end of this. And maybe that's not fair for me to ask you; I know there's not much time left —"
And she can see just how badly Genny wants to protect her big brother, how much they both do.
Lucy shakes her head, blinking back tears as her eyes fill, suddenly feeling the immense weight of not only the decision they will have to make in two short weeks, but of holding this man's heart in her hands. "I really care about him. And I don't want to hurt him either," she whispers.
Genny offers her a watery smile and then squeezes her hand. "I know you do. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, but he's my big brother, you know? I don't want to see him get his heart broken again. But it's not fair of me to put that on you." She blinks rapidly before taking a sip of water and clearing her throat, "Anyway, did Tim tell you he's going to be coaching Little League this year?"
Lucy's eyes light up at the mention, relieved that the conversation is shifting toward lighter topics, "He did! I cannot wait to see him with the boys. I can't decide if he'll be a total hardass or a complete marshmallow."
"Have you seen him with Jack? A marshmallow. 100%!"