Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Haven
I finish putting away the shipment that came yesterday. All bags of grain are stacked, cases of bottles are stored away, and I’m walking out. Cruz jogs down the stairs.
“Happy birthday, man,” he says. “Thanks for the muffins.”
It’s my birthday, but it’s not happy. On the drive home last night, I tried to put my evening with Mom behind me. She uses people, and she was only trying to get to my brothers. She’d probably be abysmal to them too. I stood up for myself, and she swatted me down and let me leave.
I learned my lesson. Hard.
“Thank your girl,” I say like nothing’s bothering me. It’s tradition that whoever’s birthday it is brings a birthday treat. Mostly, we all go to Dee’s Sweets, and that started even before Cruz and Elodie got together.
“Trust me, I will.” His grin is shameless.
Irritation sweeps across the back of my neck.
Excitement simmers inside me too, but it’s like soured mash.
A contaminant got inside me, and it’s tainting this whole day.
Prescott’s making me a birthday dinner. She’s at my house now.
I can use the distraction. I can use looking forward to something, but I can’t forget that she’s got one foot out the door.
I can’t forget that she never wanted me in the first place.
No. Today is not about me and her. Today is about our arrangement, and my anticipation needs to temper itself.
When I arrive home, her car’s in the drive.
She messaged me when she was coming over to start cooking, and I’ve been thinking all day about how she’s in my house.
A soothing warmth fills my chest and has only grown since I coasted down my driveway and saw her here.
I inhale, and my chest is raw. Just an arrangement.
I park next to her car and rush inside. Meadow runs up to me from where she must’ve been sleeping on her mat. “Is my girl inside, Meadow?”
Meadow trots toward the chickens, and I smile, beelining into the house. The chickens are her binge-watching.
“Hey,” she calls in a singsong voice.
“Smells great.” I inhale the savory BBQ flavor. Today is about food, and her enthusiasm about birthdays. I don’t have to see into it more than that. My stomach growls as I turn into the kitchen and skid to a stop.
The counters are clear, and the dishwasher’s going, but it’s not the way she cleaned the kitchen or set the table with a candle in the middle that she must’ve brought. I’ve only got candles for emergency kits.
The only thing on her full, curvy body is an apron.
That’s the distraction I’m craving. Blood swells in my veins, plowing through my body like a giant tidal wave. My temples pound, but not as strongly as my heartbeat in my dick. “Fuck me, Red.”
Her cheeks are flaming red, and she’s shifting from foot to foot. “Is this okay? I mean— Oh.”
I chew up the floor crossing to her. Her eyes are wide when I reach her. I don’t stop, backing her into the counter.
“Hell yes, it’s okay. If I could—” I cut that sentence off before she thinks this small-town cowboy is getting serious.
If I could come home to this every day, I’d think I won the biggest lottery in the world.
I need to forget those words before I start thinking I’m getting serious. Prescott is going to leave. She loves birthdays, and she’s using mine to spread the joy. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just not for me.
Her lips are the prettiest pink as she blinks up at me.
“If I could see through that apron, it’d be even better,” I murmur against her lips. Good save.
“I didn’t know what you’d think.” She stares at my shoulder like she’s afraid to say what she really wants to. “Seems arrogant to think that me naked is a birthday present.”
“It’s good sense. Why wouldn’t I want you naked in my kitchen? I’m a hungry man.”
She giggles, and the way her body quivers in my hold only amps up the lust boiling inside me.
“I like this,” I say honestly. “A lot.”
“I think I’d like it if I came home from work, and you were naked.”
“Your dad might have an issue with it.”
“He’d have an issue with a lot if he knew.”
“Like the way you come against my tongue? ”
“Most definitely,” she says hoarsely.
“What about how deep you took me in your mouth? How you swallowed me down like you were a starving kitten?”
She swallows. “That seems like it should stay between us.”
“I want very little between us.” When her lips part, I brush a kiss over them, not wanting her to think deeper about that comment. “I want to be in you.”
Her eyelids flutter. “Yes. I want that.”
I dig my wallet out before my brain goes offline from the noise of my dick. “Hope the ribs won’t burn because I’m taking you now.”
“Everything’s ready when we are.”
I find the condom, toss the wallet on the counter. It lands by the wine opener I got last night. I glare at it. Fuck wine, and fuck that opener. I rip my zipper down. She reaches behind her for the apron strings, but I yank her to me.
“Leave it. I’m fucking you with this apron on.”
A sultry smile curves her lips. “So that whenever you wear it, you remember this?”
“Yes,” I say roughly. I still owe her the red underwear, but I’ve been too busy getting into the pairs she’s been wearing.
I claim her mouth, and a whimper leaves her immediately. The sweet taste of lemonade is on her tongue. I demand everything, dominating her mouth and shoving my knee between her legs. She grips my shoulders.
With a growl, I break the kiss. My lips wet, I drag my mouth along her jaw, pushing her head back. Once her neck is exposed, I take my time.
Another pool of warmth gathers in my gut. She remembered the stories of drinking lemonade with my dad and brothers?
This woman is amazing. I should keep her.
And watch her walk out later?
She never wanted me, but she wants this. So do I. I move the apron aside to uncover a breast. She arches into my touch. The weight of her is pleasing in my hand, and I run a thumb over her nipple. I do the same to the other side.
Blood hammers through my erection. I won’t keep my cock, her, or the dinner she worked on waiting any longer. “Turn around.”
I stuff the condom on before she’s completely turned.
The only things covering the back of her are the loop of the apron at the neck and the ties at her waist. Otherwise, she’s open to me. The lush globes of her ass are on display. I carefully take the claw clip out of her hair.
She shakes out the tresses, and my only regret is that I missed seeing her tits jiggle.
“Are you ready for me, Red?” I touch the nape of her neck before skating my fingers down her spine. This is all mine. For tonight.
For how much longer?
Pushing that thought aside, it’s sluggish, like I need to address these building emotions inside me. Desire. Need. Want. Hopes, dreams, and fantasies. Fear. Always anticipation of loss. They’re strong, and it’s probably because of that damn wine opener taunting me.
I give my head a shake. I have a naked goddess in front of me, and I’m wasting time. I continue my path down, but stop a moment at her round butt cheeks.
She looks over her shoulder at me. “Doesn’t seem fair I can’t touch you. ”
“I’m the birthday boy.” My hand grazes downward until I get between her legs. Heat envelops my hand. She’s ready. My patience runs out. I clamp a hand around my dick. “Put your hands on the counter and brace yourself.”
When she does, I use my free hand to drag her hips back. She bends farther over, and yes, she’s open for me. I slide the tip of my cock through her seam and push inside.
A low moan leaves her, and she drops her head. “Haven.”
It feels like it’s been for-fucking-ever, but that’s how it always is with her. “The more I get of you, Prescott, the more I want.”
The back of my throat burns. It’s true. Truer than I can admit.
Her hair curtains over the side of her head as she looks back at me. I can’t interpret her expression, but I don’t have much intelligence at the moment.
I start thrusting. Pleasure swamps every other emotion.
She’s surrounding me, gripping and rippling around me so damn perfectly.
I keep hold of her hip and grip her shoulder.
I want to make this good for her too, but I’m indulging in my selfish side.
I want to take and take and take. And I want to keep.
I punch into her harder. Her hands squeak against the counter, but she readjusts. My climax is bearing down on me like a hungry herd. I’m going to happily get trampled, but then she won’t hit her peak. Can’t have that.
“Touch yourself.” It comes out a snarl.
She rests an elbow on the countertop and her other hand disappears between her and the countertop.
“Tell me what you feel.” I keep plunging in and out of her.
“I’m wet,” she says, breathless .
I tilt my head forward, hanging on every word. “I need to hear it all. I need you to come with me, but I need your help pushing you over the edge.” Arousal gives me tunnel vision. I’m close. “I can’t control myself around you.”
“My clit,” she pants, “is tight. Soaked.”
I grunt for my reply.
“I feel you.” She gasps. “In and out. In and out. So strong and…” A whimper. “Hard.”
My world narrows to a pinhole. “Fuck. I can’t?—”
My orgasm smashes into me. Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t get her off.
“Haven.” My name on her exhale sounds pleased, but I didn’t get her off.
I come long and hard, my body shaking. She takes it all, keeping both of us from collapsing on the counter.
She didn’t climax. She needs to finish.
As soon as the last stream erupts from me, I pull out and sink to my knees. My zipper cuts into my balls, but I don’t care.
“Haven?”
Her legs tilt like she’s trying to turn around, but I put my hands on the inside of her thighs and nudge her legs farther apart. “Stay right there.”
The angle might make my neck angry at me for a month, but I don’t care. She tips her hips enough that I nail her clit with my tongue, lapping and sucking. In seconds, she’s exploding and shuddering against my face.