CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #2
He bobbed his head. “She’s stressed. Another reason why she didn’t want to come out tonight. She was pretty dysregulated after the farmers market. And now the news about Kyla. She’s been in her room since we got home earlier today.”
“Poor kiddo.”
His smile was small and grim. “She said she had a nice time with Damon though. Was impressed that he also thinks about lichen.”
We both chuckled, softening the tension that seemed to have strung itself up between us without detection.
I hadn’t even been paying attention, but he’d backed me up against a tree, and now loomed over me, his arm above my head, eyes staring into mine. “I had a nice time the other night.”
“So did I,” I whispered.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about … all of it. About the noises you make when you come.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, and I glanced away.
His finger under my chin brought me back, and I glanced up at him again. “Or the way you taste. I’m really glad that the first woman I ever got to taste was you.” His lips twisted ruefully. “There’s a problem though.”
Panic quickly replaced all feelings of lust inside me.
“Now that I’ve had a taste … it’s all I can think about. It’s all I want.”
I blinked up at him. “You are giving me whiplash right now.”
Smiling even wider, he closed the gap between our faces and went in for a kiss, pinning me to the tree beneath the twinkling lights overhead.
It was honestly something out of a romance book, or movie, or something.
I was lightheaded and giddy, and those lusty feelings were back in full force, propelling me to wrap my arms around his neck.
His hands found my back, and he hauled me against him, deepening the kiss.
Our breathing became ragged as we started to grind against each other, moaning and letting our hands roam. He pressed his pelvis against me and I could easily feel his arousal on my inner thigh. Boldly, I reached down between us and stroked it.
He didn’t pull away. Instead, he thrust into my hand, encouraging me to continue.
After a few moments of some serious making out and heavy over-the-clothes petting, we broke the kiss, breathless and ramped up.
“I know we talked about taking it slow,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine, his chest heaving. “But … do we have to?”
I grinned like a horny idiot and laughed softly. “I don’t want to.”
“Me either.”
“But where? Everywhere we turn, there are …”
“Children,” he sighed.
“Yeah. Children.” I pouted. “No house is safe.”
“And I feel like doing it in the back of the truck is not romantic, even though we already did stuff in the back of the truck.”
The sound of my pulse racing through my body thudded in my ears and the space between my thighs throbbed with need.
Glancing around, as if a solution to our problem would pop out from behind a tree and present itself to us like a little squirrel, I let out a frustrated growl. “The kids could come back to the house at any moment.”
“And Mabel is at my place.”
I reached into the back pocket of my olive-green overalls and sent off a text in the group chat I had with my cousins.
Please keep my kids away from my house. Give me an hour. PLEASE.
It was met almost instantly with three thumbs up emojis. Followed by Raina giving me a winky face emoji and an eggplant.
Lennox snorted when he saw the response. “I guess that’s one way to make sure we’re not interrupted. Call in the cavalry.”
“They’re definitely handy.” Then I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward my house.
We burst through the front door, and I was smart enough—and not in too much of a state of horny mindlessness—that I locked the door as well.
He peeled off his black T-shirt, revealing those muscles and full sleeves of tattoos that had me pausing to just gape for a second.
His body was fit, with abs and pecs, and even those sexy lines at the hipbones.
Swallowing the moisture that had filled my mouth, I reached out and gently made to run my hand down his chest, but I stopped myself before I touched him.
“Can I?” I asked.
“You can absolutely touch me wherever you want to,” he said, taking my hand and placing it on his chest. I could feel his heart beating wildly, matching my own frantic pulse.
I slid my hand down his abdomen to the waistband of his jeans and, for only a second, hesitated before I unsnapped the button and unzipped the zipper.
I sank to my knees in front of him, bringing his pants and boxer briefs down with me. His cock thwacked his lower belly, and in the dim light of my small house, I could see a small, dewy bead of precum glistening on the dark-purple crown.
Then, I glanced up at him and licked my lips. “Can I?”
“Yes.”
Wrapping my hand around the base, I eased him past my lips and into my mouth.
He let out a deep sigh and his hand fell to the top of my head. “I never thought consent would be so fucking hot,” he murmured. “But yes, yes you fucking can.”
It’d been a while since I’d given head, so I took my time easing him to the back of my throat and suppressing my gag reflex. He was the perfect size. Not too big, not too small. He fit perfectly in my mouth, which meant I was sure he’d fit perfectly elsewhere too.
Using my hand to stroke him, I continued to work him in and out of my mouth, twirling my tongue around his shaft from my hand to the tip and back. Flicking my tongue over the tip, I tasted the saltiness of his precum and swallowed, humming a little before going deeper.
“Fuck,” he groaned, falling back against the door.
I glanced up to watch him for a second, continuing with my hand and mouth movements. His eyes were closed, his head tilted slightly up, and he had one hand in his hair while the other rested gently on my head. He wasn’t being forceful with me, just … possessive. And I liked it.
Inching him further down my throat, I contracted my throat a few times to squeeze his crown.
“Fuck me.” His growl and sudden movement of jerking me up with his hands under my armpits startled me. He spun me around and plastered my back to the door, taking my mouth and plunging his tongue between my lips. “That was fucking amazing,” he murmured between kisses.
“Y-you could finish, if you want,” I offered.
“I want to finish inside you.”
My core clenched and I tipped my head to the side so he could get better access to my neck. His hands made quick work of my overall snaps, and soon enough, I was in just my bra and panties as he backed me up toward the stairs to my loft bedroom.
We had to stop our kissing so we didn’t trip and die on the narrow stairs.
I collapsed onto my bed, and he covered me quickly with his body.
There was only three and a half feet of clearance between the floor and ceiling—less than that because of the mattress—so there would be no cowgirl or doggy style here.
We would have to resort to good old missionary, spoon, or girl-on-top missionary style.