Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Aspen
“This is a lot of work to put in on a house we only plan to live in for three years.” I take the glass of lemonade he pours for me, sipping it as he makes one for himself.
I came out to see him at the homestead. While we’re waiting on the experts to come in and help us with our mine situation, he’s been putting the final touches on our new home.
Anson’s crew already took care of all the big projects, but he insisted he wanted to do the finishing touches himself.
So it’s been a long week of him out here, and today, I felt like coming to see it for myself while Fallon’s busy with extracurriculars.
“Well, I plan to spend a lot more here. Just gotta convince you to stay a little longer.”
“You sure you want that? I feel like I’ve been testing your limits lately…
” I hedge. I’m curious how he’s surviving so far.
He hasn’t complained, but then he doesn’t say much in general.
We had our moment of reprieve in the shower the other day, but it’d been in the heat of the moment.
In the daylight, like this, is a different thing.
Or at least I think it is until I see the look on his face.
“When it comes to you, I don’t have limits.” He flashes a grin back at me as he slips the pitcher back into the fridge.
“Is that so?” I smirk, raising a brow as my eyes sweep over him while we make our way out to the porch.
His ass looks amazing in the Wranglers he has on, and he’s just that little bit extra dirty and disheveled from working out here all day.
The kind that has me thinking about sex and having his hands all over me.
Not to mention, it’s golden hour, and the view from out here on the porch framing him in this light might almost be enough to convince me to stay forever.
“Try me.” He challenges me, looking back over his shoulder.
“Strip.”
“Strip?” His smile spreads in curious amusement.
“You heard me.” I hold my lemonade out as I gesture for him to get on with it.
He sets his down on the railing and grabs the back of his T-shirt with his free hand, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. He starts to reach for his belt.
“Wait!”
I move around him, sitting down on the oversized porch swing he built.
It’s massive, with a giant seat cushion and pillows.
Quite possibly the comfiest one I’ve ever experienced in my life.
I have every intention of spending as many hours out here reading and drinking lemonade as I can while I live here.
“All right. I just want to make sure I have a full, uninterrupted view, and I have somewhere comfortable to watch.”
He’s more than a little amused with the game we’re playing, and he closes the distance between us, standing directly in front of the swing as I use the balls of my bare feet to rock it back and forth while I sip my lemonade.
“This better?” He looks down at me.
“Much. It’s like a real strip club now.” I make a pretend toast and take another gulp. I’ll need to stay hydrated.
He reaches for his belt, slowly unbuckling it and pulling it out of the belt loops of his jeans.
I hold out my hand for it, and he gives it to me, a mildly confused but very curious look on his face.
I put it on the cushion next to me, setting my lemonade on the floor at my feet before I reach for the button on his jeans.
“The strip clubs you’ve been going to are much more interactive than I remember them being.”
“Go to a lot of strip clubs, do you?” I tease him as I undo the top button of his jeans.
“No. I’m a married man.”
“Surely that gets boring after a while.” I tilt my head to look up at him, and he slips his fingers under my jaw, staring down at me like I’m the only thing he can see.
“You haven’t met my wife. She’s a lot of things, but boring isn’t one of them.”
“I’ve heard she’s bossy and difficult.”
“Only when the situation calls for it.”
He’s already well practiced at saying all the right things.
Doing them too, if I’m honest. He wasn’t kidding when he said his main priority right now was being a good husband and a good father.
He’s all of that and then some. A better partner than I could have ever dreamed of, and I feel like I’m just waiting for someone to wake me up.
“And when it doesn’t?” I ask as I draw his zipper down slowly, careful to brush the backs of my knuckles over him in the process. He closes his eyes, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as a low hiss escapes him from the contact.
“When it doesn’t, she’s actually pretty fucking eager to please.”
“How do you know which version you’re getting on any given day?”
“I don’t. That’s half the fun.” He smirks down at me.
“I think you deserve a reward for all your hard work this week.” I lift my lashes, biting back a smile. “What do you think?”
“I have a lot of thoughts right now. Ones that might be too much for your delicate sensibilities.” He teases me right back, and I love him for it.
Oh god.
I love him.
Not the way you love someone you’ve cared about for most of your life. Or the way you might love someone who’s a part of your family, whether you like it or not. But the other kind. The one that takes over all of your sensibilities. The kind that makes you lose all reason.
I’m in love with him. Again.
My mind starts to race with the implications of that, analyzing the risks and trying to predict the potential outcomes if I keep hurtling down this path instead of the one I carefully laid.
The one with rules and order. The one where nothing is at risk because we make sure we keep our hearts off the table.
“Jones.” His voice drops, and his grip on my chin tightens, forcing my attention back to the present. “Where are you headed?”
“Wondering if we should toss out the rules for good. What it means if we do.”
“I think we should save that decision for another day. One when I’m not seconds from having my cock out while I strip for you on our porch.”
A laugh tumbles from me, and I run my hand down his thigh, trying to refocus on the fun of the moment rather than on the million things running through my mind at any given time.
“Okay. I can do that.”
“How about we follow my rules for tonight instead?”
“Your rules?” I give him a questioning look, but I feel the anticipation ripple through me.
“There’s only one you really need to focus on.”
“What’s that?”
“You do what I say, when I say it.” He leans down, his forehead touching mine, his lips a hairsbreadth away, his eyes trained on me. “And when you do a good job, like I know you will, I make sure you come so hard you don’t remember what you were thinking about in the first place.”
“Okay,” I agree. I don’t even feel the urge to fight the desire to hand him the reins tonight. I want it. Crave it, even.
“Okay or yes, please?” He wants my emphatic agreement, making sure I’m signing up for this, and I’m not just giving in.
“Yes, please,” I answer.
“Take me out.” He nods down to where my hands are creeping up his thighs, and I follow his orders, anchoring my fingers underneath his waistband and pulling down.
His cock slips out from under his clothes, hard and thick, and I scoot forward on the swing, ready to hit my knees.
But he stops me, smirking down at the sight before him.
“I love how eager you are.”
“Then let me take care of you.” I reach out for him, but he grabs my wrist.
“My rules. My pace.”
I have to bite my tongue to keep from arguing, and that amuses him even more.
He wraps one hand around his dick and starts to stroke himself, taking a step closer until there’s only inches between us.
I run my hands over my thighs, curving my palms over my knees in an anxious habit, trying to distract myself from interfering with his plans.
“Eyes on me,” he demands, and I lift my lashes to meet his dark gaze. “There we go. You’re so damn gorgeous, and those green eyes of yours get me hard every time. I want you looking at me while I slip in between those pretty red lips of yours.”
He presses the tip of his cock to my lips.
“Open for me,” he orders, then he nudges his cock past them as I open and flatten my tongue, letting it curl around him as he slips inside my mouth. “Fucking hell, Jones. You’re so good at that. I used to imagine this.”
I take him deeper, letting him gently bump the back of my throat.
I start a rhythm, using the balls of my feet to rock the swing back and forth and letting him slip in and out of my mouth while he strokes the base of his cock.
He lets out a loud groan when I swirl my tongue around him, and I close my eyes as I feel my clit flutter in response.
“You like sucking my cock, don’t you?” He looks down at me, his eyes heavy with lust.
I moan softly in return, and he gives himself a heavier stroke on the next pass.
“Oh fuck,” he murmurs. “Stick your tongue out for me.” I do as he asks, and he palms himself again roughly. Precum drips off the tip and floods my senses with the taste of him. I let out another whimper, and he pulls his cock free from my lips.
“Bishop,” I beg, urging him to finish himself off.
“Is this turning my wife on? Sucking me off out here on the porch?”
The rush of being out in the wild while also knowing we have our privacy here is a heady mix for me. I’m not sure I could be wetter in this moment.
“So much,” I admit.
“I want to see for myself.” He holds out his hand for mine and hauls me to my feet when I take it. “Strip.”
“Strip?” I echo, feeling my stomach flip. I realize now we’re pushing our boundaries, seeing how well I follow orders.
“Take the pants and the panties off.”
I want to argue at first, but I move to unbutton my pants. As I shove them down my legs and the cool breeze hits my skin, I feel myself flush with need. I like this, and I forgot how much until just now. The panties follow, and I toss them onto the porch swing.
“You next.” He jerks his chin toward the swing.