Chapter 29 Picnics, Pumpkin Bars, and Pussy
Picnics, Pumpkin Bars, and Pussy
Wes
My body is still humming from the way she swallowed me down without blinking an eye. When her eyes flared in hunger as I pushed her to her knees, I knew she would match my energy and levy a challenge right back.
I adore that about her.
That T-shirt she’s wearing is adept. This woman can’t be tamed, and fuck anyone who would dare try.
She opens the bottles of root beer I’d brought while I spread out the plaid blanket I’d grabbed out of Pops’ closet onto the living room floor.
She glances back at me. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Making us a picnic.” I plop down on the blanket in the middle of the floor and gesture for her to come sit.
She sidles into the living room, a soft smile on her face. “Are you trying to butter me up so I don’t yell at you some more?”
“Is it working?”
Her head shakes in negation, but she's smiling as she passes me one of the bottles before sitting down next to me on the blanket.
I dig into the bag of food and pass her a sandwich, coleslaw, and the pumpkin bar, trying to decide the best way to apologize.
She had every right to be angry about what happened. I hadn’t been careful enough, and I should have known to turn my phone off. Guilt swirls in my stomach as I remember the name that had flashed across the screen before I’d silenced it. Fucking Hannah.
“I’m sorry I butted in with Luci," I say before swallowing the rest of my pride. "I thought he was ready to ride out of the training paddock, but I was wrong and not turning off my phone when I was riding him was reckless.”
The tense set of her shoulders relaxes as her eyes hold mine. “I’m careful with my horses for good reason, Wes. They’re my entire life.”
I nod. “I promise it won’t happen again. I know what the horses mean to you,” I say sincerely.
Her fathomless blue eyes scan my face, and she lets loose a resigned sigh. “Good. Let’s eat.”
We tuck into the food that Mrs. Mackey made up for us.
She’d been pleased as punch when I called her first thing this morning, asking if it was too much to ask for her to put together a little picnic for me and Sawyer.
She’d chattered excitedly over the phone, exclaiming that she’d heard all about how we’d danced together at Fall Fest. The way she told it, they needed a firehose to put out the flames burning in our wake as we danced together.
News sure traveled fast in this tiny town, but at the moment, I didn’t mind so much. Especially when Mrs. Mackey seemed to love the idea of things suddenly heating up between me and Sawyer.
The food is, of course, delicious and Sawyer’s little hums of delight as she takes bites from each dish makes me twitch in anticipation as I recall how she’d made that same sound while her mouth was around my cock less than an hour ago. How am I already getting semi-hard again at that thought?
After we both finish our meal, Sawyer picks up the dessert and takes a bite. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and she moans. “You have to try yours, Wes. This is probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
I give her a crooked grin. “I can think of something that tastes even better.”
“Impossible,” she says.
“Hm. I’ll taste both to be sure.” I tear off a piece of pumpkin bar with a thick glob of cream cheese frosting and shove it in my mouth, chewing thoroughly and swallowing.
“Well?” she asks in anticipation. “What could possibly top that?”
“Only one thing.” I crawl towards her on my hands and knees, feeling like a predator ready to devour his prey.
She giggles in discomfort. “No way do I compare to this.”
“Guess I’ll have to taste you again to be sure, but I’m pretty sure you taste like a slice of heaven that was made just for me.”
Her eyes darken in lust, and my fingers find the button of her jeans. I tear them down her legs, eager to get a good long look at her.
“Wes,” she pants, her voice a soft whisper.
“Don’t worry, honey. You can finish your dessert while I eat mine.”
She lets out a breathless laugh, and I coax her legs apart, fingers trailing through her trimmed hair before dipping one inside of her.
She gasps as she rocks against my hand, her dessert lying forgotten on the picnic blanket.
Her hips lift off the floor and I hook my arm around her thigh and pull her to my mouth.
My tongue sweeps over her clit and her taste explodes in my mouth, dragging a feral sound from my throat. “Fuck, Red. You’re so much better than anything Mrs. Mackey could ever cook up in the kitchen.”
I slip another finger inside her and hers thread through my hair, urging me to stop talking and put my tongue to better use.
She breathes a sigh of relief when I suck her clit into my mouth.
My name pours from her lips like honey when I stroke her inner walls, curling my fingers upward as I slowly thrust in and out of her.
I smile against her pussy. “You gonna scream for me when you come on my fingers?” I give her clit a lazy lick, slowing down my rhythm to draw out her pleasure.
“If you do it right,” she says, goading me as she grinds against my face, desperate for the release I’m holding just out of her reach.
The clouds from the brief rain shower have moved on, and moonlight filters through the curtains, painting her face in an ethereal glow.
She’s beautiful splayed out on the picnic blanket for me to consume.
Freckles decorate every inch of her skin, and I want to spend time tracing them as if they’re new constellations to discover.
I add a third finger, watching the way she stretches around me, pink and wet and so damn needy for me.
My erection presses uncomfortably against the hard floor, and my balls ache even though I came less than an hour ago.
I’m damn tempted to whip my dick out and pound into her right here in the living room.
I remind myself I just had her perfect lips wrapped around me. I can wait.
I press my mouth back to her and flick her sensitive flesh gently with my tongue while my fingers pump into her. That beautiful pink flush creeps into her cheeks, and her short nails dig sharply into my forearms as she chants, “Yes, Wes. Yes.”
“I think I can get you screaming louder than that, Sawyer. Let me hear it.” I suck on her clit and groan when I feel her pussy clamp down on my fingers.
“Wes, fuck! Oh my God.” She’s screaming in earnest now, and I watch in awe as she falls apart for me, slowing the rhythm of my fingers as she pulses around them.
“Gorgeous,” I whisper, watching her chest heave as she comes down from the high of her climax. She stares up at the ceiling and her hands stroke my arms absentmindedly.
I push up from my elbows and stand. Holding out my hand, I haul her up from the floor. Her smile is soft, but her blue eyes are full of fire.
“I want to see you,” she says as she thumbs the button at the top of my flannel.
I trail a hand up her bare ass and pull her towards me. “Good. Because I need to see every inch of you, too.”
I grab the box of condoms from the bag I’d set on the kitchen counter earlier. Our fingers twine, and she pulls me toward her bedroom, still naked from the waist down. I watch her ass as we go, and she looks over her shoulder to find me staring.
She lets go of my hand and steps away. “Come on then. Don’t be shy, cowboy,” she says, gesturing to my Levi’s. “Fair's fair. Take ‘em off.”
“Christ, Red,” I say, blushing at her forwardness.
She bites back a smile as I unbuckle my jeans and shove them down my thighs.
“Boxers too,” she says, snatching the box of condoms from me and tossing it onto the bed.
“Someone’s impatient. You just can’t wait to see this cock again, can you?”
She smirks at me in answer. Her gaze drops as I push my boxers down, my cock springing free, standing proudly between us.
I let her take it in, giving her a moment to appreciate the view while I unbutton my shirt, the fabric rustling as it slides from my shoulders and pools onto the floor.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
She tears her gaze away from my erection, her cheeks flaming. Her denim shirt drops to the floor and then she pulls her T-shirt over her head. She stands in her bedroom in just a plain white bra and nothing else. You’d think it was the sexiest lingerie in the world for how my dick responds.
I’m so damn hard it hurts, so I give myself a firm stroke to alleviate the pressure. She licks her lips and reaches around to unclasp her bra. Her breasts spill out and the undergarment hits the floor with a muted click.
Her body is on full display, but she doesn’t seem the least bit self-conscious. I hold myself back so I can fully drink her in. Her alabaster skin glows in the warm light of her lamp, like the comforting warmth of a campfire. I could bask in her glow all night.
My gaze settles on her chest, rising and falling with breaths that are weighted by my attention.
How have I not touched those perfect tits yet?
It's a damn travesty—one I plan to remedy immediately.
“Now who’s staring?” Her arms lift to cover herself, and I can’t possibly keep myself in place any longer. In two strides, my hand is on the back of her neck and I’m holding her hostage with my gaze.
“No hiding.” I loosen my grip and brush my fingers down her spine. Goosebumps crop up on her skin, and my hand skims over her arm to her wrist. I put it behind her back and collect the other wrist and place it in my right hand with the first. “I told you I want to see every single inch of you.”
My lips brush down her neck, kissing the line of freckles to her shoulder, and she squirms with need. She tilts her neck to the side and presses against me, offering herself to me.
She doesn’t fight against my hold, and I love that she’s letting me handle her like this. I claim her mouth with mine while my other hand skims over her ribs to fondle her breast. My calloused thumb ghosts over her nipple and she shudders, arching into me.