Chapter 20
A Sneak Peek
MITCHELL
The drive to Winona’s place was only a few minutes; Quince Valley was small.
But I spent the whole time holding her hand against my lips, moving it only to shift gears before bringing it back.
I wasn’t willing to let her go. Plus, I didn’t trust myself.
If I let go of her hand, I’d put mine on her thigh.
And if I did that, I’d pull her onto my lap.
That was dangerous in more than just a car accident kind of way.
When we pulled up to Winona’s house, I should have waited in the car.
It would have been easier to leave. But I insisted on walking her to the door.
I stood there as she opened her deadbolt, mentally texting Sal to set up a security system installation tomorrow.
Now that we’d crossed this threshold, where I knew I’d have to allow myself to obsess over her once again, every moment I wasn’t around her was going to have me tied in knots.
The place was too old. Soon, there would be even more hiding spots with scaffolding and painting tarps going up.
She’d given me more shit about the handyman stuff on the way home, and I’d taken it, grinning, exactly where I wanted to be.
“I’d ask you to come in, but I know what you’re going to say,” Winona informed me as she pushed the door open.
There was an edge of frustration in her voice.
She didn’t like this arrangement. Neither did I.
But I knew she’d be glad tomorrow morning, when the wine buzz was gone, and daylight slid sharp and judgmental through her curtains.
“And what am I going to say?” I asked. Despite my intention to leave, I hooked my index finger into the top of her jeans, tugging her toward me. I was frustrated, too. Physically, at least. My hands were itching to touch every part of her. All of me was.
“No, Winona,” Winona mocked. “Not tonight.”
Her expression was so deadpan, I couldn’t help laughing. Loud enough, apparently, to awaken the neighbor, as a light flicked on next door.
Winona sighed as the white-haired woman appeared in her window.
“Was she waiting there?” I whispered.
“Yup.”
The window slammed open. “Miss Chalmers! Quite the racket out here for the middle of the night.”
“Mrs. Moody,” Winona said. “It’s barely ten o’clock. But I do apologize.”
I had to smother my smile. The neighbor was nosy as hell, but once again, I appreciated that Winona had someone so vigilant living next door. A security system had nothing on Mrs. Moody.
“Hello, ma’am,” I said, tipping an imaginary hat.
“And who is this?” The older woman demanded, as if I wasn’t there at all.
“Just a friend,” Winona said.
I smiled politely. “I heard there was a peeping Tom here the other night, so I’m making sure Winona’s safe.”
Mrs. Moody frowned. She glanced out to the street where my car was parked. Busted.
But the woman just frowned harder. “It was your car he stole, was it?”
Winona choked back a laugh. I tugged her closer to me, pressing my thumb into the softness next to her hip. “Yes, ma’am. But don’t worry, it’s all under control now.”
“Is he in jail?” This lady had about as robust an understanding of the justice system as she did cars, which was fortunate right now.
“Yes,” I said somberly. “And it’s a good thing. He’s a very bad man. Did you know he stole Winona’s underthings?”
The woman gasped.
I leaned into Winona’s ear and whispered, “He did very naughty things with them, too.”
Winona sucked in a breath.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Moody clutched the neck of her nightgown. “Thank Goodness he’s locked up! How long is he in for?”
Without meaning to, I locked eyes with Winona. “Life, ma’am.”
Winona snorted.
“Well then. I guess it’s time you get going,” Mrs. Moody said.
But Winona stopped laughing, her patience with Mrs. Moody's meddling clearly worn thin. “I was actually going to invite Mr. Harrington inside for an alcoholic nightcap.”
My eyebrow lifted. Aren’t they all alcoholic? But Winona was making a point.
“I’m also going to get him to inspect my underwear drawer. Make sure nothing else is missing.”
Mrs. Moody, scandalized, sputtered. But I didn’t hear the words that came out next, because Winona had taken me by the collar and dragged me inside, slamming the door behind her.
She dipped her forehead against my chest, her hand still clinging to my shirt. Her shoulders shook with laughter. “I can’t believe I just said that.” Her eyes snapped up at me, her laughter ceasing. “It’s just for show, Mitchell. Don’t worry. You’re not staying.”
“Do I still get to look in your underwear drawer?”
Her eyes flickered. “No. But you can inspect the undergarments I’m wearing now.”
She hooked her fingers in the neck of her sweater, and before I knew what was happening, she’d tugged the soft, giving neck down.
It slipped right down her arms, bunching at her waist, and just like that, Winona’s bra was right there before me.
This one was simpler than the one she’d left at my place.
No fancy stitching. No frilly edges. Instead, it was black. And sheer.
I could see everything.
The smooth globes of her tits. Her pink nipples, tightening into points under my ravenous gaze.
“Not fucking fair, Winona,” I snarled.
I dropped to my knees. Here, they were at the perfect height.
Without thinking anything except this, only this, I took her sheathed nipple into my mouth, bra and all.
She let out a cry as I sucked it deep enough to stroke with my tongue.
As I did the same to the other one, I uttered a string of words I could barely understand.
“Fucking perfect,” I think were some of them. “Better than perfect.”
I knew I had to stop. I was going to, I promised myself. But I had to know. I looked up to meet her eyes and tugged the straps of the garment down. “You discovered my Kryptonite, Firecracker.”
Her eyes flamed as her breasts were freed.
I stared for what felt like a lifetime, my dick turning to stone, before dragging my hands upward, cupping my fingers into place.
“You were right,” she whispered.
They did fit perfectly. Better than any way I could have imagined it.
“Fuck,” I breathed, incapable of any other word. I took her left nipple in my mouth, then more, gently tonguing the tip, then nipping her tender flesh. Gently at first, then a little harder. I was testing her. I didn’t know what she liked, but I suspected my firecracker liked a little bite.
She gasped, nearly melting into me.
So that was a go.
I shaped those beautiful breasts into even more perfect points and took the other nipple next, flicking it several times before sinking my teeth onto that one too.
It was too hard, maybe, just this close to pain, but she was pushing her body into mine, making sounds that were going to make me spill all over the inside of my pants.
I wasn’t a masochist. But with Winona, I wanted up against that line between what she was scared of and what she wanted. I wanted to know where she’d push back. Take over. Call me names and then beg me to do it again.
I backed my head away, still grasping each voluminous tit in my hands. I eyed the red marks I’d made; the glistening wetness of the tips of both breasts.
“You’re an animal, Mitchell,” she breathed.
“Only for you, Winona.”
I leaned in, her damp nipple soft against my cheek. I wanted her so fucking badly. I clenched my jaw, needing a moment. Then I got to my feet, pulling her bra straps onto her shoulders.
The garment flipped back into place.
She frowned at me. “Mitchell.”
“You know, I didn’t think I was a foot man, until I saw your feet earlier.” I allowed myself a brush of my thumbs over the fabric recovering her nipples; a gentle, caretaking caress after ravaging them a moment ago.
Winona’s eyelids fluttered closed, a sharp breath sucking through her lips.
“And I didn’t think I was a breast man, either,” I said. “Not until I saw yours.” Reluctantly, I tugged her sweater up, putting her back together. “But now, I don’t think I was anything until you exploded into my life, Firecracker.”
Winona, still looking frustrated, nevertheless raised her arms, winding them around my neck.
I lifted her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
She fit like a fucking glove. Her body was so pliable in my hands, her tongue so needy as she kissed me again.
She felt so good in my arms. Light as a feather.
Warm and soft as taffy. And those tits, fuck those tits.
They were pressed against my chest now. I was desperate to see them again.
I wanted to see them bounce with her over me and under me.
To slap them gently to see if she’d make that sound again.
To watch them swing as I took her from behind.
Winona was grinding against me, her tits perilously close to being in mouth-distance again.
And fuck, I was close to losing it once more.
I had to hold to the rule. I’d dragged her down far enough—if she wanted to sleep with me, it would be on her terms. And these were not yet her terms. I broke the kiss, breathing hard.
“Show me around tomorrow,” I said against Winona’s perfect lips; against the hot breath coming out of her. I waited for her to refuse; to demand I fuck her now and to hell with the consequences.
I’m almost positive I wouldn’t be able to say no to that.
But I also wanted to see her place. To know her and see up close the life I saw through the window. I set her down on her feet.
And my dick needed a goddamned break.
"Okay," she said. "But bring breakfast."
"Done." I was a picture of fortitude as I slid my hand over her backside and gently nudged her aside so I could open the door to leave. I knew the sexy-as-hell giggle she gave me would stay with me the rest of the night.