3. Duncan
Chapter Three
Duncan
H er mouth was soft and warm and inviting.
At first, there was no response from her—just a startled hesitation.
And then a quiet gasp slipped from her throat, and she melted into me.
Her lips softened, her mouth opened, her tongue danced delicately against mine.
Quick, clever fingers stole into the messy thatch of hair at the base of my neck, sending a thrill shivering through me.
For a few moments, then, the world telescoped down and down and down, becoming smaller and narrower until there was nothing in this whole universe except Rune and me, our fused mouths slowly dissolving together, my heart pounding wildly in my chest and thrumming deafeningly in my ears, her soft curves pressed against me.
In that moment, in which nothing existed but Rune and me, I caught a glimpse of a future—one of a thousand, thousand possible futures—wherein Rune and I began with a kiss and found forever in each other.
I felt my heart skip a beat and then resume slamming madly against the prison bars of my chest. More—I needed more.
I needed to feel the hot silk of her skin under my hands, needed to feel her muscles contract as she arched beneath me, needed to hear her whimper my name as she came apart.
There was no thought in my brain except more —more Rune, more of that soft quiet shocked gasp, more of her pressing into my hands as I curled my arm low around her waist and pulled her against me.
"Mommy, what are they doing?" I heard a little boy's voice ask.
"Shhh, Tommy," his mother responded. "Something they probably should be doing in private.” The last two words were hissed in emphasis.
Rune and I broke apart, both of us panting. Rune's sapphire eyes were wide and wild, stunned, searching mine as if looking for something specific. "Duncan," she breathed. "I…"
I heard her swallow—a literal, audible gulp—and then she tore herself out of my arms and up off the bench, one hand raking angrily through the loose chaos of her stormcloud hair, the other pressing visibly trembling fingers to her kiss-swollen lips.
Her eyes, the precise shade of blue of fire flickering from a burning stovetop, fixed on mine, searching and shaken.
And then she was gone, disappearing into a swarming thicket of tourists, leaving me sitting stunned and alone on the bench with tingling lips and a raging hard-on.
What just happened?
I felt like the world had tilted on its axis, wobbling uncertainly and with sudden, debilitating violence…
all from a kiss; my cock was bent sideways behind my zipper, angled painfully, throbbing and hard as an iron girder…
all from a kiss; my heart pounded and my breath came in quick panting huffs, and I felt almost dizzy… all from a kiss.
When was the last time I was this affected, physically, by a woman? How about never. Emotionally? Also never.
I didn’t know what I was feeling in that moment. Stunned? Left verklempt? Numb and yet greedy for a repeat. Greedy for more—for privacy to rip her clothes off and discover her body, find out what makes her scream, what makes her thighs quiver and her eyes roll back in her head.
Fuck, I needed her with a sudden and unexpected desperation that had me every bit as shaken as she looked.
I made the short walk to the Kitty in a daze—we opened in less than an hour.
I pulled down stools and chairs and high-top seats, but my mind was elsewhere…
specifically back on the bench with Rune's mouth on mine.
I had to count the till drawer four times before I was sure it was right, as I kept getting distracted by the memory of her curves gracing delicately against me, a thigh on mine, chest against my arm, fingers dimpling my nape.
Fuck.
I took inventory, restocked the bar fridges, cleaned the liquor bottles…god, whoever closed last night did a shitty job, left a bunch of bullshit busywork for the opener.
That's a joke—it's me. I’m the closer.
I eventually managed to mostly banish Rune from my mind as the day progressed, mainly by virtue of being too busy to spare a thought for anything other than serving customers.
It was a long-ass motherfucker of a day, closing last night and then working open to close today, but I couldn’t complain since I'm the asshole who wrote the schedule—Elias needed the day off, and in return, he was covering for me over the weekend so I could attend the wedding with Rune.
By the time I got home, it was after three, and I should be exhausted and ready to crash, but instead I found myself antsy, agitated, and wired.
Thinking about Rune.
About that kiss.
Just revisiting the memory had my cock hardening into a painful erection that I couldn’t ignore. And all I could think about was her. Those soft, warm, wet lips melting against mine, her tongue sliding against mine. The swell of her tits against my arm and chest.
Fuck, I need her.
I need her naked.
I need her screaming my name.
I need those thick, strong thighs clamped around my face as I devour her essence.
My attempts to distract myself were futile. Xbox, TV, scrolling on my phone—none of it kept my attention for more than a few seconds before I found myself fantasizing about Rune all over again.
I open again tomorrow—I have to sleep. I can't be still awake at…fuck me. Four a.m.
Yet I couldn't sleep. I closed my eyes, and all I saw was her shocked face, those stunned sapphire eyes searching me as if looking for answers as to why that kiss was so much more than merely a kiss.
I saw her reaching for me, hands sliding down my chest, diving under my waistband.
It was my hand gripping my cock as I lay in bed, not hers, but it was her in my mind.
I saw her twisting her hair into a messy knot on the top of her head, saw her peeling out of her shirt to spill her full breasts into my waiting, greedy hands.
I stroked my cock slowly, envisioning her heavy, round tits in my hands, her plump lips swollen from our kiss, lips parting as she lowered her mouth to my cock—
My phone burbles on the bedside table, startling me out of my fantasy.
Who the fuck is FaceTiming me before dawn?
Rune.
Shit.
I answered, leaving the light off so the only illumination came from the bathroom, casting me in long, angled shadows. The screen flickered, revealing Rune in a similar scene: dimly lit, shadows bathing half her face. I only saw her from the neck up, the phone held close to her face.
"Hi," she whispered. "I couldn't sleep. I know I shouldn't call you at this hour, but I…"
"It’s fine," I murmured, “I wasn't asleep, either.”
My cock throbbed, ached, full and hard and heavy, my balls tight against my body with the release I had been so close to, now denied.
"Am I crazy," she asked, "or was that kiss…"
"Strangely intense?" I finished for her. “Yeah, it was." I sounded tense, even to myself.
"Are…are you okay?" she asked. “You seem…"
"I'm fine," I lied, my voice gravelly with arousal I couldn't hide.
"Duncan. I know you're lying. What's up?"
I shook my head. "Trust me, Rune, you don't want to know."
"Maybe I do." Her voice was low and raspy, her eyes sparking in the dim light.
"Thinking about you," I said, growling the words. “Supposed to be sleeping, but all I can think about is you. It's a fucking problem."
“Why do you think I'm still awake?" she murmured.
I couldn't stop a wince as I shoved at my ramrod-stiff cock in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure, groaning. The movement was well off-screen, but Rune's gaze betrayed the fact that she knew exactly what my groan was about.
"Duncan," she breathed. "Are you…?" she trailed off suggestively.
"Wishing my hand was yours?" I said, the words tumbling free unbidden—that damn lack of a filter striking again. "Abso-fucking-lutely."
"You can't say something like that to a girl, Duncan," she whispered. "It's not fair."
"Not fair?" I snapped. "Not fair is that fucking kiss. Not fair is you leaving me turned on, hard as a damn rock, and having to work all fucking day while trying not to think about you. Had to fight a half-chub all goddamned day because of you and that fucking kiss."
"You're touching yourself?"
"I was thirty seconds from coming when you called,” I admitted.
Her eyes went heavy-lidded with desire, teeth snagging her lower lip. "Fucking hell, Duncan."
"You've thought about me, haven't you?" I demanded. “You touched your pussy while thinking about me."
"Yes," she whispered. "Several times." Even in the dim lighting, I could tell she's flushing scarlet.
"Several times?" I said.
"Every fucking day, Duncan, is that what you want to hear? I think about you and your stupid sexy face and your stupid sexy abs, and I flick my bean."
"Do you say my name while you come, Rune?" I asked.
"Maybe."
"Let me hear."
This was stupid. Foolish. I didn’t need the distraction. I needed to be focused on work—I've only been GM for a few months, and I’m still on probation with Dad and Delia. If I mess up, they'll make Elias the interim GM until they feel I'm more ready. That’s not happening. The Kitty is my bar, now.
But I can't deny myself this. I can't deny myself her.
"Duncan," Rune gasped. "I'm not doing that over the phone."
"Why not?"
"It's embarrassing."
"It'd be fucking hot."
"You first, then." She fumbled the phone, dropped it on her chest, and then picked it back up—in the process revealing her bare chest, stomach, and the upper swell of her sex.
"Fucking goddammit, Rune," I groaned. "Tease."
"That was an accident," she protested. "If I was gonna tease you, I'd do it more like this."
She eased the phone away by infinitesimal degrees, baring her tits to me slice by slice, inch by inch, until only the very tips were out of the screen, and then she brought it back to focus on her face.
"Fuck," I growled. "You have perfect tits. Show me more, Rune."
"You first," she whispered. "I have needs too, you know."