Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wyn
“Slow down,” I say over the crowd’s whistles and hollers.
I never thought I’d enjoy a light jog in a pair of cowgirl boots, but being ushered out of this park, weaving through parked cars has its perks.
“I definitely don’t hate the view, though,” I laugh out, and he glances back at me with a quirked eyebrow.
Julian is a very well built man, but I don’t think I’ve truly appreciated his ass in a pair of well-fitted jeans until now.
“My stride is, like, half of yours. You’re going to have to?—”
He stops as soon as we hit the edge of the grass and turns to face me. Bending at the waist, he hoists me up and over his shoulder.
“Julian!” I yell out, laughing breathlessly as I smack his ass. “I have a skirt on.”
“This is faster.” He bites at my upper thigh and then holds down my skirt. “Nobody’s out here right now anyway. Were you serious about the woods? They’re right over there . . .”
It’s almost obscene how sexy I find it to be manhandled like this.
Slowly moving me down the front of him, he makes sure my feet are on the ground before removing his hands from my body.
As he reaches for the door handle, I realize I’m not interested in going anywhere right now.
I don’t want to get into that car, so I slide under his arm and between him and the door, closing it and mustering the courage to ask for what I want.
“You just threw me over your shoulder to get me here,” I say, smiling up at him coyly.
“Now, that we’re here . . .” I trail off, leaning against the door as I run my fingertips along the front of my vest. I’ve had a day, but in the quiet parts, the ones when I could escape and think about him, my mind kept replaying what would’ve happened if we hadn’t been interrupted looking out over the airfield.
He’s so wildly handsome that it’s almost laughable.
His lips tilt up as he glances out at the rows of parked cars across the street, then turns slightly to glance over toward the park. Before he turns to look the other way, his fingers find the front of my waist, and he guides me so that my back hits the side of his truck.
“Unbuckle it,” he says in a deep gravel, like the version of him I’m about to experience is something far more animalistic and demanding.
My pussy is already eager, adrenaline coursing through me, wanting every fucking word and inch he wants to give me.
The bluegrass music still echoes loudly from the park, but here, it’s just background noise.
His belt buckle jangles as my fingers work quickly to do as he’s asked—intent on touching him, feeling him, tasting him.
Julian’s hands move at the same pace as mine.
He shifts one hand to the back of my neck, threading his fingers into my hair, while the other moves up and under my shirt.
My heart races as his warm, calloused fingers find their way over the cup of my bra as his thumb rubs back and forth over my hardening nipple.
He keeps his eyes on mine while I unbutton his jeans and then lower the zipper.
“I need your hands on me,” he says, almost pleading.
I bite my bottom lip at his words. With his hand around the nape of my neck, he uses his thumb to pull my lip free before he kisses me hungrily.
Coaxing my tongue with his, he hums the moment my hand moves beneath the waist of his boxer briefs and down the length of his cock.
He breaks his lips away to look down at my hand that moves beneath his waistband. I drag my thumb across the tip that’s already wet. Watching his jaw slack and feeling how hard he is for me makes me want to taste him and make him feel as good as he made me feel.
“You want me in your mouth then, don’t you?” he says, looking at me already as I glance up.
I smile and nod. Because I fucking do.
“You can show me how well your throat can take me later. But right now”—he tilts his head back, trying to focus while my hand works him up and down at a measured pace, his arousal leaking as I grip him tightly—“I want to watch my cock slide into that very . . . pretty . . . pussy.”
Thighs clenching, my body feels flush and eager to watch the same. I grip him tighter and run my thumb just beneath the head of his dick.
“Fuck, Wyn. Let me feel how wet you are right now.”
There’s something powerful in it, a brimming confidence that surfaces again like it had the night we watched each other come. Leaning forward, I lick and nip at his bottom lip.
I swipe my thumb along the slit of his dick as I move my hand out. With my eyes on his, I drag his arousal across my lower lip and then run my tongue across it. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“Fuck,” he breathes out.
It’s the last quiet and soft moment. He moves his hand from behind my neck and down to my thigh, his fingers digging into my skin, and my skirt hikes up.
With my weight leaning against the truck, I loop my arms around his neck, and with his free hand, he finds my pussy, yanks my panties to the side like he promised, and swipes his thumb through my already drenched lips.
My fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer. When our lips meet this time, it's urgent and needy, tongue and lips, teeth and nips.
“So fucking wet for me,” he growls as his mouth moves to my neck, and I tingle all over.
He licks along my pulse point, teeth grazing as I roll my hips for some kind of friction.
His thumb drags up over my clit and back down through me, never giving me more or filling anything other than the need for more.
“I should take you home, spend time . . .” His thumb moves away, his other arm holding my leg slightly higher, and he pulls back, looking down as he drags the head of his cock in the same slicked path, making me shiver.
“I want you to make me nice and messy.” I grab at his shirt, looking for purchase as he taps my clit like it’s his good fucking pet, forcing another audible breath to rush out from my lungs.
“I’m going to need you to be quiet, just for a minute,” he says as he looks over my shoulder.
Suddenly, I can hear people talking from not that far away, and the reality of where we are, out in the open, doing this without any thought other than wanting to finally feel the other, sinks in.
We should stop, but the part of me that’s always been careful and cautious has changed into someone far more daring.
“Julian,” I whisper, leaning forward and doing exactly what I’ve wanted and dragging my flattened tongue up the side of his neck, feeling the scratch of his scruff all the way to his jaw. A moan leaves me at the feel of him, the way he grips me tighter.
“Crowne,” he grits out, and then smiles at me, moving his thumb from my pussy and shifting it to my throat.
I trust him to touch me however he’d like right now.
It feels like letting go and gaining a new kind of power all at once.
“I think we’re going to need to get out of here.
” Leaning forward, he nips at my bottom lip.
“I haven’t finished yet,” I say as my lips caress his.
But it’s the sound of my name from the other side of the truck that has the both of us freezing any and all movement. “Wyn?”
“I’m telling you, she left,” my sister huffs out.
Julian pinches my clit.
My mouth opens as I suck in a breath, my wide eyes locking onto his amused expression.
“I’ll make sure you finish,” he says, and then does it again. Oh god. “Just not here.” With a quick kiss, he pulls away from me just as people come closer.
But the gut punch is hearing Nash call out, “Auntie Wyn?”
I look at Julian, eyes widening even more as he looks the same back at me.
“She wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, right, Mom?” Nash asks sweetly.
“I’m telling you, that’s Julian’s Bronco up there,” Tommy chimes in. No, no, no. “If he didn’t leave, then I promise you, Wyn is still—” My uncle’s voice cuts out as Julian lets go of my leg and helps me to shove my skirt back down over my hips.
Before I turn and move toward the hood of the Bronco, he pulls me close. His eyes search mine, and then look around my face. “This doesn’t mean we’re done, baby,” he whispers as he pulls his pants back around his waist.
“I know,” I say with a smirk, remembering what he just said to me.
“Just a little while longer . . .” I lean in, kiss him on the lips, and then look down, brushing my palms along my skirt.
Taking only a few steps toward the front of the truck, that’s when I see them—less than fifty or so feet away and walking closer.
“Here,” I call out, raising my hand as I hear his buckle clang as he puts himself back together. “Still here.”
Stevie stops and then snorts out a laugh the second she gets a full look at me.
“See,” Nash says from Tommy’s shoulders, with Jameson right beside them. “Told ya she wouldn’t have left without saying bye.”
“You’re totally right, Nash baby,” Stevie says with a big-ass, knowing smile on her face. “I’ve never been prouder of my big sister.”
“Nash,” I say like I’m out of breath. “That, um, cotton candy looks really good.”
“Want some?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m good, thank you, though. Pretty full.”
“She’s good alright,” Stevie says. “Probably full of somethin’ back there.”
I widen my eyes at her, and then watch as Jameson looks down, trying to keep the knowing smirk off his face too.
“Looks like we’re going to need that ride, after all, Uncle Tommy,” Stevie says, smiling big and wide, with at least a thousand questions running like a ticker tape in her brain. I know it’s taking unimaginable willpower not to start asking them all right now.
“Sure thing. I’m parked just a few down,” he says, and all I can think is if he’d been alone, or just a minute later, the man who practically raised me wouldn’t have been able to unhear or unsee what we were about to do.
“Get home safe, you two. Try not to get arrested for messin’ around in public, will ya. ”