CHAPTER 18
Palmer
All I can think about as Bailey backs his truck out of the parking spot is how glad I am I shaved my legs earlier.
When we had gone inside to let Lindy know that Bailey was going to drive me home and secure a ride for his soldier, everyone had looked at us knowingly, but they didn’t say anything. I had been too drunk on his kiss to have the decency to try and cover up what they all already suspected.
Bailey’s hand is steady on the steering wheel, the veins illuminated by the streetlights.
He reaches over with his right hand to grab my leg, tugging me from the passenger seat into the middle.
His hand rests on the inside of my thigh, and the way his thumb strokes my skin makes it incredibly difficult to think straight.
My feet sit close together along with my knees, as if that might stop anything.
Or maybe it’s because I’m wearing a skirt and am a proper lady?
Nope. It’s because I’m nervous as shit, and I’m not even sure what to do about it besides apparently sit like a sixty-five-year-old woman.
As we pull onto the road, Bailey breaks the silence. “You okay?”
“Yeah! I’m good,” I squeak.
“You’re nervous.” It’s not a question, simply a statement of fact.
I nod then look down, studying the ridges of the mat on his floorboard. “A little I guess.”
“Why?” His fingers continue caressing my skin at the same lazy pace. The movement makes me jittery, and I shiver slightly.
Unsure how to answer his question, I’m quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I’m not really sure why. Because you make me nervous?”
Bailey chuckles. “I do?”
“Well, yeah.”
“How so?”
“Oh, I don’t know!” I exclaim. “Because you’re mysterious and sexy and protective, and that makes me want to hop into bed with you constantly. If the sex is as good as I think it’s going to be, you might ruin all other men for me,” I say playfully.
“I plan to,” Bailey states matter-of-factly.
My jaw drops. I’m taken aback, unsure of the appropriate response. “Plan to what?”
“To ruin all other men for you.” His hand slides leisurely up my thigh, stops a couple inches short of the edge of my underwear, then lazily strokes its way back down to the inside of my knee, his thumb rubbing in unhurried circles.
“You’ve been teasing me, Palmer. Tonight at the bar.
Outside of the school. And before, every time we’re together.
Yet, nothing ever happens with pretty, sweet, Palmer.
” He punctuates his words with the movement of his hand as he first knocks my right foot off the raised center spot, followed quickly by my left.
My breath hitches, coming in short, fast pants.
My legs are sprawled open for him, and his hand continues its lazy round up and down my thighs, his eyes remaining on the road.
“So, tell me, Palmer, why have you been such a tease?”
Bailey’s fingers skip to the edge of my lacy panties, fiddling with the fabric.
I moan and arch into his touch, because, fuck, it feels good.
A whimper escapes my lips and he stops, slowly moving back down to my knee.
“When you cooperate, Palmer, you get rewarded. That means answering my questions. Is that what you want, baby?”
I nod, unable to speak.
“What did I tell you about using your words?” His fingers are already on his next pass up my leg, but this time, they slip under my panties.
Bailey swirls one finger over the slickness coating my pussy, and my head falls back in a moan.
His voice is husky when he says, “That’s not an answer, Palmer.
” Just as sinfully slow as his finger found my arousal, it slips away, and my body aches for it.
“Please, Bailey,” I beg, unable to know exactly what I’m begging for other than his touch.
His laugh is low and sensual. “I like hearing you say my name, baby. Makes me wonder how good you’ll sound screaming it.
” Bailey slips his finger coated in my arousal into his mouth, closing his eyes for a brief moment in ecstasy, then pulls it out.
“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined you would.”
His hand returns to rest high on the inside of my thigh, back to tracing small circles with his thumb. My hips arch into his touch, and I whimper as his fingers squeeze, coming closer and closer to touching me where my body aches for him.
“So impatient,” he chides, bringing the truck to a stop. “I guess it’s a good deal we’re at your house.”
I glance up and see he’s right. My mind has been so occupied with the touch of his skin on mine that I hadn’t paid any attention to where we’ve been going. I guess it’s a good deal he didn’t decide to drive me into the middle of nowhere and kill me.
Bailey unbuckles himself and slides out of his truck while I’m still gathering my bearings. “Stay here,” he commands. “I’ll come get your door.”
I nod, my brain unable to focus on anything other than his touch.
When he opens my door, he takes in the sight of me, legs spread and chest heaving, in the center of his truck.
An appreciative smile spreads across his face.
He leans in to undo my seatbelt then slides me toward him without me having to do a thing.
Bailey turns my legs to face him and steps between them.
“Such a good girl.” He bends to plant three slow, sensual kisses up the inside of my thigh, and I nearly come apart at the seams. The thought of someone seeing us crosses my mind, but the searing heat of his lips on my skin erases any concern of the sort.
Hell, let them watch. They might learn a thing or two.
Bailey slides me out of the pickup, catching my mouth in a long kiss. His lips seal against mine, and his hands find both the back of my neck and wrap around my waist, leaving no room for anyone to question who I belong to.
This kiss is a message to anyone watching. It’s a message to Clay and any other future man who might look at me. It’s a message to anyone in my past.
More specifically, this kiss is a clear message to me: mine.
My body shakes with involuntary shivers, a reaction to what I know awaits me on the other side of the door.
Bailey pulls his lips mere millimeters from mine, his voice low, barely above a growl, and breath hot against my mouth. “You’re going to go inside and take Mouse out to use the bathroom. When you’re done, put her in her kennel. Okay?”
“Mm-hm.” I would jump off a bridge if he told me to in that voice.
“And then, after that—” His tongue slips through my lips, tangling with my own, before he pulls back again.
“After that, I’m going to do exactly what you told me you wanted someone to do.
I’m going to fuck you all over your house until the only memory you have left of a man is moaning my name as you come in my mouth and all over my cock. Do you understand me?”
Breathless, I nod. The heat in my stomach is an inferno, and I can feel I have soaked through my panties.
“Good. Now, you’re going to walk in front of me so I can look at your ass as you bend over to do what I told you.
Then, when you’re done following those directions, you’re going to climb up on the island in your kitchen and let me eat your pussy until you’re seeing stars.
” He steps back from me, and I can see his cock tenting his jeans, just as hungry for me as I am for him. “Let’s go.”
* * *
“Come here, Mouse. Kennel.”
The dog spins in her kennel, letting out a satisfied huff. Bailey stands behind me, my skirt hiked up around my waist and his hands caressing my ass.
“Fuck, Palmer. You are so fucking sexy.” The sound of his hand slapping against the skin of my ass is sharp and smarts, the pain shooting straight to my pussy, only enhancing my arousal. “Now go to the kitchen and stand in front of the island.”
I follow his orders wordlessly, which earns me another smack on the ass.
“You know, you can use your words, Palmer.”
I stammer, hardly able to speak. “Oh. Um. I do—”
The laugh he releases is low and teasing. “If you’re already having a hard time talking, I can’t wait to watch you try when we’re ten orgasms in, tears are rolling down your cheeks, and you can’t stop shaking long enough to form a coherent thought.”
Me either.
Stopping in front of the island, I turn to face him, unable to control my breathing. What has this man done to me?
Bailey takes his time undressing me, savoring each thing he unwraps. He slides my shirt off my arms and drops it to the floor; my skirt quickly follows. Once I’m standing in just my lingerie, he steps back to see me in my entirety. “Turn,” he says. “Slowly.”
I do as he commands, the heat in his gaze hovering over every part of my body.
“Unhook your bra,” he demands.
My lingerie slides to the floor, and he steps back toward me, his gaze fixed on my breasts. Bailey caresses them with his hands, lightly pinching my nipples. “Jesus fucking Christ, Palmer, you are perfect.”
The words make my cheeks turn pink from arousal—and shame. He doesn’t know everything I’ve done. He deserves to know.
“Bailey,” I start.
His eyes don’t leave my breasts. “Mm-hm.”
“I need to tell you something. Well, a few things.”
“Then tell me.” He bends to take my left nipple in his mouth, and I groan in ecstasy. “I’m listening,” he says against my skin.
“I need to tell you about what Clay was talking about.”
He nods, sucking, his teeth grazing my nipple.
My stomach rolls, and even with how aroused I am, I can’t ignore the fear that once I say what I need to say, he’s going to stop and want nothing to do with me ever again. “He was telling the truth.”
Bailey moves to my other breast, lavishing it with the same attention he gave the other, moaning. “God, you have perfect tits.”
I continue my confession, telling him about the other guys I slept with, the shame filling my face in stark contrast with the building tension in my stomach.
He cuts me off by grazing his hand on the outside of my underwear, circling my clit with his middle finger. My mouth falls open, and the only sound coming out is my ragged breathing. Slowly, he releases my breast from his mouth and lifts his face to me.
His forehead rests against mine, and his dark eyes bore into my gaze. “Listen to me, baby.” His finger slips inside my underwear, continuing to circle my clit, my arousal building. “I don’t care who you’ve fucked in the past, Palmer.”
Bailey slides one finger inside of me, and I gasp.
“I don’t care who you think about fucking in the future.” A second finger slides in, pumping slowly, in and out. “Right now, the only person you need to worry about fucking is me.”
He adds a third finger, and I cry out, the pleasure overtaking me.
“Bailey, wait.” I moan, looking deep into his eyes. “One more thing.”
He pauses the movement of his hand, waiting for me to speak.
“This is just— we’re just, um,” I stammer, the words slipping from my brain. Why didn’t I have this conversation before it felt nearly impossible?
“We’re just what, Palmer?” Bailey’s voice is low and sultry.
“Well, it’s just—we’re not anything. This—” I grind my clit against the heel of his hand and inhale sharply at the sensation. “This is just for fun. Only fun. It’s nothing serious.”
A devilish grin crosses Bailey’s face. “You bet your ass this is all for fun. Now, hop your sweet ass up on this island so I can taste that delicious pussy of yours.”
Fuck yes.