LANA
Bates is in my trailer.
We just did something really fucking naughty and so hot that I nearly came a second time just from watching him.
And I’m not even dreaming — I pinched myself to check.
My fingers swirl in his silky cum, and I paint my nipples with it while thinking about how much I want it between my legs. I even think about gathering some on my fingers and rubbing it into my pussy, but I’m pretty sure I’m not meant to use it like that without asking.
Bates has just been betrayed by a woman in baby-related circumstances, so I doubt he’d respond well to me doing something that must surely be on the same spectrum.
He comes out of the bathroom with a steaming cloth, and when he sees my cum finger-painting efforts, he swears under his breath.
“You are so ridiculously delicious, Lana Baker-Hawkins. Do you have any idea what you’re fucking doing to me?
” he asks as he steals one of my hands and wipes it clean.
He wipes my chin, where I must have missed some of his cum when I was trying to catch it in my mouth.
It had a strange flavor that I suspect wouldn’t seem so delicious if it wasn’t served straight from his glorious cock in the throes of passion, but I thoroughly enjoyed every drop I managed to receive.
Watching me closely as he washes my other hand and essentially gives my tits a sponge bath, Bates shakes his head. “What are you thinking in there, Lana?”
“Things.”
“Such as?”
I press my lips together as I order my thoughts to choose which ones I shouldn’t say and which ones I want to share the most.
“Why did you… commandeer the hotel kitchen to make me an omelet?”
Bates shrugs. “It’s what you wanted, and while the staff on duty were willing enough to help, they were ill-equipped to deliver the kind of omelet I wanted you to have.”
“My omelet was perfect. What kind of omelet did you want me to have?”
Bates smiles. “A perfect one. I wanted everything to be perfect for you. I just… wanted you to be able to look back on your first time fondly and without regret.” He drags his hand down his face as he sighs.
“At least, that’s what I’d intended. Before I found out you were Hawk’s little girl and that my actions are definitely going to have some regrettable repercussions if and when he learns what I’ve done. ”
I stop my inappropriate fantasizing about Bates making me omelets every morning for breakfast as he moves back to the bathroom to rinse out the washcloth.
He returns with it steaming again and does a final thorough cleansing of my top half before drying me off and helping me back into my thermal undershirt.
He heads for the bathroom again, and I scoot off the bed to rearrange my bags so I can get what I need.
“What are you doing?”
I hold up a clean pair of panties. “I need fresh underwear. I’m all…”
Bates grunts softly and scoops me up, carrying me back to the bed.
He tugs off my sweats and arousal-soaked pajama shorts, then ducks back into the bathroom only to return with a fresh, steaming cloth.
He spreads my folds and gives me a long, upward lick before kissing my clit and proceeding to clean up the lusty mess he inspired.
Once I’m dried and dressed with clean underwear, I’m tucked safely back into bed.
He lies next to me, but on top of the covers.
“You’re not going to get in, are you?” I ask, trying not to sound disappointed.
“I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have done the other stuff either.” He turns his face into my pillows and groans. “I came here to explain my earlier behavior, and to make sure you’d know that I care about you, and to tell you I wanted to use that email address you gave me so fucking bad, but…”
“You can still use it.”
He shakes his head without lifting himself from the pillows, then he rolls until we’re facing each other again.
“Can’t. Can’t do it to Hawk. Can’t do it to you. Can’t give you some half-assed, hidden relationship bullshit that’ll end in trouble. Can’t fuck up the work you came here to do and the plans you have for your life. You have everything ahead of you.”
“You could give me some whole-assed, hidden relationship that would be worth managing the subsequent trouble. We could do that while I get to know you better and progress both my work and my life plans. I want that option.”
“And your dad?”
“If he loves us enough as separate people and wants us to be happy, then he’ll lose any argument against us finding said happiness together. He might take it personally at first, but he’ll get over it once he sees how happy you plan to make me. You do intend to make me happy, don’t you?”
“With every breath,” I promise. “Are you sure you want that?”
“Yes,” she says without pause. “Any reservations or hesitations I’d have would stem from things outside of me, so they don’t count as what I want.”
Bates squints at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that due to the tumultuous nature of my relationship with my father, if and when he finds out about us, there’s a chance that he’ll interpret my involvement with you as an assault on him.
As in: he’ll think I’m using you to punish him for being a shitty father to me — which he’s not, but I’ve told him enough times that he is, so he’ll assume.
I would like to clarify to you that I’m not in fact using you and your incredible body to lash out at my father.
I have very real feelings about you, including — but not exclusive to — the fact that I think you’re very pretty, I like the way you treat me as a person and make me feel treasured, and I also like your massive cock and want it bare inside me with a passion that I’m only bold enough to admit right now because my blood consists of about twenty percent tequila. ”
“Fucking hell, Lana,” Bates rumbles under his breath. “Are you serious?”
I giggle and shake my head. “That’s bad math.
I apologize. It’s probably less than one percent tequila, but it feels like more because you make me feel all high and giddy and shit.
I’m definitely drunk on a combination of you both — but please don’t think I don’t know what I’m saying.
I feel like I’m making a lot of sense, and if you tell me I’m not, I’m going to be offended. You should break it to me gently.”
He grins and kisses me on the forehead. “You are the fucking wordiest, most adorable drunk ever.”
I nod. “Is there a disappointing statement to come? Because that sounded like it could have been a really good soft blow to start a rejection speech with. I’m like…
floating from it and shit. You’re making me float, Bates.
” I groan at how stupid I sound. “Gah, fuck-dammit. I changed my mind. If you’re going to shoot me down, do it quick and dirty.
Don’t let me float any higher. Do it now. ”
About to say something, Bates thins his lips, sealing his words inside. I whimper and give him a little shove.
“No. Don’t leave me hanging. I’ll lie awake all night thinking about it, and I didn’t get any sleep last night, if you’ll remember.
I’ll be in an awful mood tomorrow, and I’ll definitely take it out on Dad, which won’t help my cause regarding us.
He’ll accuse me of being unnecessarily shitty to him because I’m tired — and he’ll be right.
I can’t give him that power over me, Bates.
I intentionally get enough sleep every night so I can deny that kind of bullshit with plausible legitimacy. ”
“I still want to wait so I can talk to you about this when you’re sober,” he says with a sigh. “There’s a lot at stake here, and it’s important that I know this is really something you want.”
He presses his finger to my lips when I try to say, “Heck-the-fuck yes, it’s what I want.”
“We have known each other a day,” he says firmly. “It had some major fucking high points in it, but we’re talking about major life-altering decisions based on a very thin sliver of time. It bears some careful, sober consideration. Agreed?”
His finger stays in place as I nod, and my lips smoosh and drag against it, drawing his eye.
“Good,” he utters a little breathlessly before clearing his throat.
“Now, the smart thing to do is to keep this quiet until we settle the matter. All things considered, the best plan of action is probably to put an end to this thing between us before it destroys any other very important relationships.”
My counterproposal is a whimper, and not the sexy kind. I think I’m going to cry. I can feel it coming.
Bates shakes his head. “Don’t you do that.
We haven’t made any decisions. I said it’s probably for the best, and I said it so you’d spend some time thinking about that instead of only focusing on the stuff that feels good.
I want you to really think about the consequences of having your daddy’s friend shoving his massive cock inside your sweet fucking pussy — bare.
How long do you think you might want that?
Because that kind of thing has the potential of creating a walking, talking, living little consequence, Lana.
Did you think about that when you said it?
Because I don’t think you did, and it’s a big fucking deal.
I need you to ask yourself if anything we decide to do will be worth the fallout.
” He looks down at me with eyes I could happily gaze up into for an eternity.
“I need you to really think about it, beautiful. You told me one-night stand. There wasn’t anything wrong with how we did that.
I can live with what we’ve done so far, but doing more is different.
I’m experienced enough to know my mind, but I’m going to make sure you take your time to think about it. Have I made myself clear?”
His gaze dips to my lips again as I nod.
“Good. Now get some sleep. You’ll need your brain firing on all cylinders tomorrow because this is going to be fucking hard. You realize that, right?”
I nod again, and he takes his shushing finger away from my mouth, replacing it with his lips.
His movements are long, and slow, and I could almost drift off with the soothing sensation his kiss seems to bring me.
He leaves me breathless and sees to my blankets, to ensure I’ve been covered and secured like an over-wrapped Christmas present — the kind with so many layers of tape that you have to rip your way inside.
I’d love for him to do that with the covers instead, but it seems counterproductive to his wishes.
Bates kisses my forehead, then surprisingly snuggles up next to me, taking the position of “big spoon.” I briefly suspected he might bail, but he doesn’t look as if he’s going anywhere. I’ve always wanted to have a man spoon me.
“Is it okay if I stay a while?” he whispers against the back of my head.
“Yes, please.”
I swear, I can feel him smiling into my hair. His beard snags some strands, and they move when his face does. It’s the most bizarre sensation. It makes my whole scalp feel sort of ticklish and warm, and I want to keep him talking so I can fall asleep with that feeling.
“Can I ask why you want to stay? And for how long? And any other things that might—”
“Sh,” he whispers, making me shiver as my scalp tingles.
“Close your eyes and go to sleep. I promise I’ll sneak out before anyone can wake up and see.
I just want to hold you a while so you’ll understand that I’m not asking you to think this over because I don’t want you.
I want you. I just also want what’s best for you — but we’ll figure out what that is starting tomorrow. ”
His hand strokes my thigh through the blankets with slow, even, hypnotic strokes, and the last thing I remember before waking again in the morning is feeling warm, calm, and loved.
When I lift my throbbing head from the pillow and open my eyes to a glass of water, some aspirin, and a small posy of wildflowers on the bedside table, I collect one more piece of evidence to support the notion that I’ve somehow stumbled across the most wonderful, thoughtful, and caring man on the fucking planet.
I’m keeping him.