Chapter Seventeen #2
Deepening his strides, he headed for his bedroom. Light from the crack in the curtains outlined the curve of her shoulder, illuminating her face, clean of makeup yet just as beautiful. One hand under her cheek, she found peace in sleep, her features relaxed and free of stress.
Every rise and fall of her breast breathed life into his need for her. His dick had been hard off and on all day when he thought of her. It now strained against the back of his zipper.
He wanted to wake her, to kiss her breathless, to spread her legs and slide into her hot, velvety glove until he was balls-deep. Instead, he fingered the hair cast in shadow above her brow and lightly kissed her forehead.
Pivoting, he stalked out of the bedroom, stopped to grab a beer, and sank onto the couch. He took a deep draw from the longneck, dropped his head back against the cushions, and closed his eyes.
What if they were right and she was catching feelings for him? What if, instead of helping her, he was setting her up for a bigger fall? That was the last thing he’d intended.
Maybe he should end things now. Tonight.
He sensed her before he heard the soft padding of her feet on the carpet. Her silhouette paused at the edge of the living room, and a sharp and resolute “fuck no” slammed into him. He couldn’t do it. He wanted more of her.
“Avery?” Her voice was tentative, questioning. He knew what she was asking. Why hadn’t he woken her up? Why was he sitting in the dark? Why wasn’t he giving her everything he’d insinuated he would?
Lifting the beer to his lips, he forestalled answering, forcing her to come closer.
Sleepy blue eyes stared down at him as she stopped in front of him, framed by the light and his wide-spread thighs.
“Sorry I woke you.”
“You didn’t.” She edged closer, hesitation emanating from her. Her knees bumped the couch. “What’s wrong?”
He should tell her, let her confirm or deny his brothers’ concerns. “Long day.”
“You wanna talk about a long day?” She folded her arms across her chest, pushing her tits higher.
The T-shirt she wore—his T-shirt—flattened her nipples, and his mouth watered.
He ached to lean forward and claim them through the thinning cotton.
“I’ve been poked, prodded, pinned, and forced to “suck it in” so many times I feel like a shop vac sucking up a desert full of Spikes. ”
She pointed to the phallic cactus on the island, and all he could think about was her sucking his dick. “So you had a good time?”
“Yes, I did actually. Thank you.” Her fingers fidgeted at the hem of his T-shirt. Despite her complaints, she was nervous. “Honestly, though, all I could think about was you.”
The bottle froze against his lips. What was she saying?
“You told me to think about everything you were going to do to me when you got home. Well, I did as you asked and got all worked up, and you couldn’t bother to wake me up?
” She pulled the T-shirt over her head and let it drop to the floor.
Her tits, full and perky, jiggled as she replanted her hands on her hips…
just above her yellow panties. “Come on, fuckboy. Where’s the follow through? ”
Relief settled into his bones, and a smile teased his lips. His brothers, as well intentioned as they were, were full of shit. She wasn’t in love with him. But then, they didn’t know his Jo, the one who called him fuckboy. Or Legs, who busted his balls and demanded more orgasms.
“Right here, baby.” Avery downed the rest of his beer and stretched to set the bottle on the end table beside him. When he straightened, he flattened his hands on his thighs. She wanted to play, he’d play. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“I believe those are mine.” His gaze trailed over the damp shadow tracing the lips of her pussy. He rolled a wrist and crooked a finger. “Gimme.”
She snorted. “I’m not gonna gimme you nothing. If you want them, you’ll have to steal them, same as you did before.”
“Is that so?” He sat forward, hooking his hands behind her knees. Sliding them up the back of her thighs to her ass, he filled his palms with soft flesh and drew her toward his open mouth. He grazed his teeth over her mound and relished the tremor that shook her.
She sighed, and her fingers sifted through his hair as he darted his tongue along the silken crease. The salty-sweet flavor of her cream burst along his taste buds. Cream she’d left for him. Because she’d been thinking about this—about him.
“Mmm, dirty girl.” He looked up to find her watching him and smiled as he skimmed his fingers under the elastic at her hips then slowly dragged her panties down her thighs. “I’ve been thinking about you, too. About your pretty little pussy fisting my dick while I fuck you.”
“Mmm, sweet talker.”
He laughed, and it felt good to let go of all the shit. She was so easy to be with, even when she wasn’t. “Step out.”
One foot lifted, then the other. He scooped the silk into his fist.
“Mine.” He kissed the soft flesh of her belly. The muscle beneath contracted. His dick flexed. “What do you want?”
Her hands fluttered to land on his shoulders. She pressed him backward until he reclined and stretched his arms along the backrest. Leaning close, she teased her lips over his. “I want you to let me keep my promise.”
He groaned, knowing exactly what promise she meant. “I’m all yours.”
Grabbing a pillow, she dropped it between his feet and knelt in front of him, her actions deliberate.
She slipped off his loafers. His socks followed.
Her palms smoothed up his thighs, but didn’t stop where he wanted them to.
Instead, her nimble fingers attacked the buttons of his shirt, so he focused on her lips, imagining them wrapped around his cock.
They were moving but it took him a moment to catch up to the words dripping out of them.
“…but you were late, so we have to hurry. It’s almost midnight.”
What did I miss? Is she turning into a pumpkin or something?
“Why’s that?” He brushed her hands aside and sat up to remove his shirt as she tackled his belt and the clasp of his pants
“New rule.” She worked the zipper down.
“Fuck the rules.” He lifted his hips and shoved his pants over his hips and down to his ankles. His dick sprang forward. He gestured toward it. “Clearly, this is not the time.”
“That’s what I’m telling you. We’re almost out of time.” Moving his pants aside, she looked up at him, her gaze imploring. “I’m changing the rule about no sex while I’m on the clock to no sex at all on the days I work for you. It feels too…wrong.”
So they were back to that. He really didn’t get what difference it made to fuck the day before or the day after, but… “What if I cleared my schedule?”
She smiled, but humor never reached her eyes. “Without your schedule, there’d be no reason for us to ever see each other again.”
Her words seared through him like a fucking hot poker, but she didn’t wait for him to agree to her new rule as slender fingers curled around the base of his cock.
Not that she wasn’t right. No fake dates equaled no reason for them to continue, but he’d have to analyze her logic later because something didn’t feel right about it. Not as right as the velvety pad of her tongue lapping pre-cum dribbling down his dick.
“Ah, Legs.” Avery dug his fingers into the cushions, letting her have control—for now.
His heart thudded against his ribs as she licked from root to tip, tracing the veins and swirling around the swollen ridge. Pink lips parted, and her mouth closed over the crown.
He groaned as heat shot through his cock to his balls. Hot, wet, silky. “So good.”
Dark cinnamon lashes fluttered upward, then rested against flushed cheeks.
She angled her head to work her tongue over the tip, and her hair blocked his view, forcing him to give up his hold on the couch.
He threaded his fingers through long fiery waves and shoved them back to cradle her head and angle it just fucking so.
Inch by inch, his dick disappeared until he hit the back of her throat. He held her there for a moment, held his breath, savoring the depth, wanting more. “Fuck.”
At the slight pressure of her head against his hand, he eased off and exhaled against the need to ram back in. She pulled back, and he shivered as her teeth grazed the sensitive rim. His stomach contracted. His hips jerked, breaking the tight seal of her lips around his girth.
Saliva trailed down his shaft, lube for her fingers as they rode upward to meet her lips on their downward path. She took him deeper with every stroke, holding him there longer. Then she began to suck, her cheeks shrinking around him.
“Fuck yeah, that’s it.” He arched into her next intake. She relaxed her throat and fuck if he didn’t gain another inch. His fingers tightened in her hair. “Sweet Jesus, Jo.”
She hummed, and a familiar tightening in his sac drew another groan. He didn’t want to leave the sanctuary of her mouth. He wanted to come down her throat, but he owed her a warning, a choice.
“I’m gonna come,” he said on a ragged breath and couldn’t be sure she heard him. “Jo?”
She sucked harder and increased the tempo.
Silent but clear, her answer sent him over the edge with a guttural moan. Hips surging forward, he shot his load. Cum pulsed through his shaft and down the back of her throat. She swallowed around each throbbing wave, increasing the pleasure and draining him dry.
His head rolled back and he closed his eyes, relishing the last draw of her cheeks and the lap of her tongue as she licked him clean. Loosening his grip on her hair, he massaged her scalp until she released him and pulled back.
Muscles heavy and relaxed, his arms dropped to his sides. He lifted his head and drank in the woman who’d turned his world upside down when she was supposed to simplify it.