Chapter Nine
Anderson
Iawoke with a strong arm banded around my chest and a very interested cock poking me in the ass.
Jarrod pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re awake?”
“Yep.” I pressed his hand to my sternum. “Have you heard the elephant clomp down the stairs?”
He chuckled. “No, I haven’t heard anything resembling either an elephant or a teenage girl.”
I wiggled my butt.
His hand meandered down my side and grasped my hip. He pulled me back against him and thrust his cock against my ass. He hummed in what I interpreted to be satisfaction.
“Roll onto your back.”
He paused in his nuzzling of my neck.
“I want to give you a blow job—so roll onto your back.”
“Okay.” He sounded skeptical, and I was pretty certain I knew the reason. He was all about giving pleasure—but rarely sank into the bliss himself until his partner had orgasmed. Or had come damn close.
Still, he settled back into the middle of the bed and put his hands behind his head—interlacing his fingers.
His eyes were still a little droopy as he slowly pulled himself from slumber.
He was a little sluggish in the morning waking up.
Coffee was a necessity for him. I couldn’t imagine getting up early with farm animals. “Hey, how early do goats get up?”
He laughed. “Don’t worry about my goats. Mila will call if there’s a problem.”
That hadn’t been my concern, but his beautiful cock curving up toward his belly—with a drop of precum leaking—captured my attention. I eased his thighs apart so I could settle in between them.
He grinned.
I licked the tip of his cock, savoring the tang of his precum on my tongue.
He moaned.
Slowly, I pulled him into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around his crown as I sucked. Still, I held his gaze.
He grasped my hair in those large hands—whether to hold me in place or to encourage me, I couldn’t be certain. The one thing I did know for sure was that he loved it when I sucked him off.
I tongued his slit.
He nearly bucked off the bed.
I swallowed him deeper.
He thickened in my mouth.
I grasped his balls and rolled them around in my hands.
Another moan. His eyes drifted shut as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked for all I was worth. He tried to tighten his thighs, but I held them apart with my shoulders. With my other hand, I circled his rim.
“I’m coming, Baby. Please—”
That was as far into his warning as he got. He stiffened, then shot cum into my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could, but there was just too much, and a bit dribbled out of the corner of my mouth.
Still, I kept sucking—wanting every last drop of him.
He shuddered. His grip on my hair loosened, and he stroked my cheek gently. “Oh Baby.”
I grinned. Then I crawled up his body and gave him a kiss. A toe-curling, tongues-clashing, deep-drugging kiss.
He grasped my cheeks and encouraged me to come even closer. To meld our bodies together. “You haven’t come.” He whispered the words.
“I’m good.” I chuckled. “I just wanted to see you climax.”
“I want to return the favor.”
Yet I didn’t want him to. As much as a blow job would’ve been nice, I wanted him to continue to sink—and revel into—his bliss.
“You really want me to come?”
He nodded. “Please. That.”
I scooted back, so I straddled his hips. Mindful of his very deflated cock, I positioned myself. Then I took myself in hand. Just six tugs and my balls drew up. I came all over him. More showers and washing sheets. I grinned even as I sank into the fantastic orgasm.
“Come here.” He held out his arms.
I eyed my spunk all over his chest. We’re going to shower anyway.
We did…eventually.
And since I was hornier than at any point in the last seventeen years, we also exchanged hand jobs in the shower.
After we dressed, stripped the bed, and put on fresh sheets, we made our way to the kitchen—following our noses and, more particularly, the smell of sizzling bacon.
Adele greeted us with a shit-eating grin on her face. “I was going to suggest Fifties, but then I decided a nice brunch at home was in order. I’ve cooked up pancakes, French toast, and eggs are just waiting for their marching orders.”
Jarrod chuckled. “French toast is more than enough for me. My favorite.”
“And bacon.” She eyed him—as if daring him to give the wrong answer.
“Yes, please.” He grinned.
She nodded. For all of her environmental activism—and I’d gotten plenty of lectures about my profligate lifestyle—she couldn’t bring herself to give up bacon or hamburgers. Even though cow farts are ruining the atmosphere.
“Is there anything we can do?” Jarrod glanced around the kitchen and, undoubtedly, saw what I saw. Table set. Kitchen counters mostly free of pots, pans, or anything else. Adele always managed to clean as she went, but even after forty years on this planet, I hadn’t managed to figure that one out.
She pointed to the table. “Let me grab the plate out of the oven.”
Moments after we’d plopped our butts, she procured a plate piled high with thick-cut golden-colored French toast and pancakes clearly cooked to perfection.
My throat felt a little raw as I swallowed. “Thanks, sweetie.”
She arched an eyebrow as she put the plate on a coaster.
“Sorry. Thank you, Adele.” Because we’d had that conversation. Just because I wanted her to stay little forever, didn’t mean she was willing to. Sixteen had been her hard limit. I could call her daughter or Adele. That was all she’d tolerate.
Jarrod stifled a laugh.
“Oh yeah, you try turning off something you’ve done for, I dunno, their entire lives.”
A stillness overtook him.
Shit. “I’m sorry—that was insensitive of me.”
Adele plated the bacon on top of a couple of paper towels. She pressed another on top to soak up some of the grease. “For Dad’s cholesterol.” She put the plate on the table.
Jarrod eyed me.
“She’s joking. I had a physical a couple of months ago, and all’s good. Should I be paying closer attention to my diet? Probably.” I lifted the paper towel and offered the plate to him.
He held my gaze as he took two slices.
“You can have more than that.” Adele slid into her chair. “I pulled a few pieces when they were nice and cooked and let the rest burn to a crisp.”
“My favorite.” Still, I held Jarrod’s gaze.
“Glad to see some things don’t change.” He turned to Adele. “I’m mighty grateful. I prefer less blackened.”
“I thought you might. Not everyone loves charbroiled.”
“Hey.” I tried faux indignation. “You prefer it that way as well.”
“There’s no accounting for taste.” She rolled her eyes.
Jarrod smiled. “Well, then I doubly thank you for cooking them the way I like.”
Adele’s gaze softened. “I want you to be happy.” She eyed me. “Because you seem to make Dad happy. He was all stressed yesterday.”
I glared. “Not stressed—”
“You thought you’d have to pay for eight years of university—including a professional program.”
I winced.
She waved me off—as she often did. “Aunt Yvonne wants to come over tomorrow night so we can talk specifics. Her expectations of me, what she will and won’t pay for…all that stuff.”
Jarrod pressed his knee against mine.
“That would be lovely.” I offered a smile. Best I could do as I thought about someone else paying for my baby girl’s education.
“Plus, I’ve applied for a ton of scholarships and bursaries.
Anything I might qualify for. And I’m working all summer at the pool.
Oh…” Her eyes lit. “And if I get accepted into the co-op program at Waterloo, then I have a work semester between my school terms. It takes an extra year, but I’ll have work experience and extra money. ”
I tried to absorb all that. “Is that program tougher to get into?”
“Yep.” She grinned. “Which means I just have to study harder. Are you going to be around this afternoon? I want to spread out on the dining room table.”
“I don’t see how whether or not I’m here affects your studying.”
“Caleb wants to come over, and it’ll be crowded if you and, uh—”
“Jarrod. You can call me Jarrod.”
She grinned. “If you and Jarrod are here.”
I wanted to make a comment about having a boy over while I wasn’t here. In confidence, though, she’d let me know Caleb was gay. Just not out because of his religious conservative family. He was always a respectful young man, so I certainly couldn’t argue on those grounds.
“I was going to invite your father to see my farm.”
My gaze shot to Jarrod.
He gave me the just go with it look I always found endearing. He could always tell when I was in over my head—and he’d offer me a lifeline.
“I’d love to see the farm.” Because I honestly did. I wanted to know everything about the life Jarrod had built for himself.
“That’s great.” He beamed.
Takes so little to make him happy.
Had I ever been that way? It felt like such a very long time ago.
“Great.” Adele leapt up. “I’m going to put the dishes in the dishwasher, have a shower, and then get cracking on the books.”
“Right.” I met Jarrod’s gaze. “I guess my day is free.”
“I can’t wait for you to meet the goats.”
Adele stilled. “Goats? Like those cute little things who do goat yoga?”
Jarrod blinked. “Uh, my goats don’t do yoga. They produce goat milk.”
“Oh. That’s too bad. Goat yoga sounds like fun.” She stacked the dishes and took them over to the dishwasher.
I was sort of surprised to see we’d demolished the pile of French toast as well as all the bacon. I eyed the pancakes. “Can you save them for later?”
“Of course.” She came over with a container and handed it to me. Then she went back to the dishwasher. “They’re Caleb’s favorite—so I might’ve been grateful you didn’t eat them all.”
Jarrod rubbed his belly. “Those were mighty fine French toast slices. Better than anything I might’ve cooked up.”
“You’re welcome to come over whenever.” Adele shut the dishwasher and turned it on. “Dad insisted I learn how to cook. I do a mean eggplant parmesan.”
I nodded my agreement. “Far superior to anything I might throw together.”
Adele pecked my cheek. “That’s because Uncle Shaw keeps you busy at work.”
A familiar refrain. I’d told her about a million times that I enjoyed working long hours to keep Shaw organized.
I also made it clear she’d always be my priority.
Keeping that balance had been easier with Mom around.
Now I was truly a single parent. “I can’t believe you turned out to be such a great kid. ”
She rolled her eyes. “You always say that.”
“Maybe because it’s always true. When’s your next shift at the pool?”
“I’m teaching lessons on Tuesday night.” She gave Jarrod a brilliant smile. “I’m a lifeguard. Have been for a year now. I do love teaching.”
“Yet you want to be an optometrist.”
“Yep.” She gave a little shrug. “Perhaps a little incongruous, but it is what it is.” She did a little pirouette and pranced out of the room.
I laughed. “All those dance lessons and, in the end, she enjoys recreational badminton and swimming more. I thought she might do it competitively, the swimming, but she really loves working with kids.”
“Kids need glasses too.” He shrugged.
“That’s true—she’ll be amazing with them.” I placed my hand on the table.
He grasped it. “Farm?”
“Yeah. Sounds great. I’ll have to drive, though, because I’m not asking you to make a round trip.”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“Maybe. But you’ve got goats who’ve missed you.”
He grinned. “Oh, Mila will have taken good care of them. Even spoiled them a bit.”
“If you say so.” I squeezed his hand. Then I let go and pushed away from the table.
We stood at the same time.
He held open his arms.
I stepped into them.
He squeezed me. “They always grow up too fast.”
“Goats?”
“Uh, no. I meant kids.” He chuckled. “Although baby goats are called kids…”
On that, we both laughed.
I rubbed my cheek against his stubbled jaw. “I’ve missed you.”
He sighed, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Not as much as I’ve missed you. Let’s go.”
And so we did.