Chapter 8 Sullivan
Sullivan
When Lila’s mouth fuses to mine, I lose the last of the restraint I was barely holding onto. I flip her around, until she’s the one pushed up against the door. I tunnel my hands into her hair, tugging at the ponytail holder until it gives away.
“So much better,” I growl between kisses.
“You say that until you find a hair in your rum cupcake.”
God, this woman is so fucking funny. She’s the sarcastic sunshine I didn’t know I needed in my life. I don’t know how any of this works, but in this moment, I don’t give a fuck about figuring that out. I only know I want her more than I’ve wanted anyone—or anything—in a long damn time.
She arches her lower back, letting out a yowl when her hips bump my toolbelt.
“Shit, sorry.”
I reach around to undo to the clasp, but her hand grips my wrist. “Leave it,” she insists.
“Is this some type of chastity belt thing? Because I was under the distinct impression that you wanted a good, hard fuck earlier. And don’t try to pretend you were joking. If I’d pulled over on the side of the road, you’d have been begging for my cock before I was in park.”
“You’re not wrong,” she admits, slowing undoing the buttons of my flannel.
“What do you want then, Lila?”
“I want to see how you look in this toolbelt and nothing else.” When she flicks her gaze up to mine, her blue eyes are two shades darker. She wore the same heated look when I got her back to my cabin all those weeks ago. Right before I ravaged her in my bed.
Fuck, I go instantly hard.
I kick off my boots to help move things along. But I let her do the rest. There’s something incredibly sexy about being undressed by this woman.
She’s the only woman I want undressing me—for the rest of my life.
The thought packs a punch, making me question if we can keep going. Because I can’t imagine some bullshit no strings attached arrangement working between us. Not anymore. Her hold on me is way too fucking strong.
“Lila,” I say as she slips my flannel off my shoulders.
“Hmm?”
“There’s something you should know,” I say, fighting through the impulse to shut my mouth while she rids me of the rest of my clothes.
“Is this about what Edie said this morning?” she asks, reaching for the button on my jeans, then the zipper. She’s careful as she tugs them down over my hips, both with the toolbelt still hanging there and with my erect cock pitching a tent in my boxers.
“You heard that?”
“She’s not exactly subtle,” Lila laughs. “She said something about being surprised you’d bring a Hamilton onto West land. What did she mean by that?”
Lila peels my jeans down my legs, kneeling as she does. I kick them away as she slides her hands up my thighs, working on my boxers next. Her face is level with my cock, and it’s too easy to remember the way she sucked on it with such enthusiasm the first time.
Focus, Sullivan.
“There’s a land feud that goes back a few decades.”
“Land feud?” she repeats, tugging my boxers down to my ankles.
Her gaze flicks up to mine, then to my cock. Precum leaks from the tip, and she hasn’t even touched it yet. Fuck me.
“Long story short,” I say, mostly because I don’t think I could spit out all the details if there was a gun to my head in this moment, “Your grandpa lost a plot of land to my grandpa in a poker game and built a cabin on it.”
“Your cabin?” she asks, laughing.
“Yes. Your grandma hates me, obviously.”
She circles her hand around my cock, holding it toward her mouth. Her tongue twirls around the tip. “Obviously,” she says, the word vibrating against my swollen head. She licks down the shaft, cupping my balls.
I inhale sharply, willing myself not to come yet.
“She probably wouldn’t approve of…” I look down at her again. “This.”
“There’s something you should know about me, Sull.” Lila takes my cock into her mouth, the tip hitting the back of her throat once before she comes back up for air. “I’m the queen of bad decisions. Got a crown and everything.”
“But your bakery—”
She takes me in again, this time a little deeper. When she pulls back, her hand twists my shaft. “Sull?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m about to give you the best blow job of your life.” She flicks her tongue against my tip and my knees nearly buckle. “Do you really want to spoil that by talking about our grandparents?”
“Nope.”
She takes my tip into her mouth again, sucking on it like it’s her favorite flavor lollipop. Her lips even make that popping sound when she pulls me from her mouth. “Good answer. Not just enjoy the show, mkay?”
I brace my back against the door and watch as Lila fulfills her promise. The toolbelt is a bit annoying, but knowing it turns her on makes the discomfort worth it. I watch as her head bobs, rocking my hips against the motion of her strokes.
I reach for her head but hesitate. As badly as I want to dig my fingers into her hair and control the rhythm, this is her show. I’m just an audience participant. But then Lila grabs my hand and places it at the crown of her head, insisting I participate a little more.
“Fuck, Lila.”
She flashes me that wicked look, but she doesn’t come up for air this time to make some smartass comment. She’s too busy fucking the life out of my cock. I hold off as long as I can, but the sultry goddess on her knees sucking me like it’s her only mission in life breaks me.
It’s knowing that she’ll eagerly swallow every last drop that finally does me in.
I clamp my mouth shut, biting back a guttural groan as my cock drains into the back of her throat.
When she releases my cock, a little dribble of cum hangs from the corner of her mouth. I watch as the tip of her tongue reaches out for it. She’s just as greedy for me as I am for her.
Yeah, there’s no way I’m agreeing to some no strings attached bullshit a second time. I’m fully prepared to do whatever it takes to ensure she has the future she wants in this town, land feud be damned. If I have my way, she’ll be a West soon enough.