Chapter 11 #2
I preened under his compliments, loving the fact that he found me sexy. His inability to resist me, both during the kiss at his cabin and now, was intoxicating.
When I finally wrapped my mouth around him and sucked him down, he arched back and let out a choked sound.
It was a good start. But part of me wanted to punish him for waiting this long. Show him he’d missed out on six fucking years of the best head he could have been getting all that time.
I licked and swirled and sucked until he was pressing into my open throat with a gasp. “Baby, baby, be care— Fuck, how can you— Fuck!”
It was only seconds later that he was warning me off. “Gonna come. Baby, stop. Can’t—oh god!”
The warm pulse of his release in my throat was welcome, but the volume threw me. I tried to hide the quick sputter as I swallowed, but he was too perceptive.
“Fuck, c’mere.” He yanked me into his arms on top of him, cupping the back of my head and holding me to his chest while we both heaved in deep breaths. The air was stuffy and warm, scented with sex and masculine sweat. It only made the entire experience even hotter. “So good, Wolfe. Fuck.”
I wanted to laugh. Trace had a great vocabulary from being a voracious reader. We even shared an interest in poetry, as I’d discovered when working on a literature project in my junior year of high school. Hearing him reduced to expletives now was incredibly satisfying.
“Y’okay?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my hair.
“Mmhm.” I nestled into him, ignoring the sticky, damp skin between us.
Trace’s hand moved up and down my back in a rhythm almost soothing enough to make me want to fall asleep in the middle of the day.
But my brain was too wired. Too busy wondering what this meant and what would happen next. Maybe I should set a timer to measure how long it would take him to go from fucked out bliss to apologetic runner.
How long it would take before he mentioned one of my fathers. Responsibility. Guilt. Family. The word shouldn’t.
I stared at the silver thread on his chest, the physical manifestation of his fear over our age gap. My finger reached out to press it down, to stroke it into his damp skin, but every time I did, it popped back up again into an errant curl.
He brought his hand up to still mine, holding it against the center of his chest.
“I don’t want to know how you’re so good at that,” he muttered. It took me a minute to realize he’d meant the blow job.
“Practice,” I said, deliberately petty because fuck him.
“Mpfh.”
I wanted to say more. Maybe go through some of the more memorable practice sessions I’d had over the years with various men. Men who’d picked me up in bars or contacted me on the apps. Men who’d found me even at my cousin Alex’s restaurant in Legacy, right after I’d been ignored yet again by Trace.
And I realized I didn’t need to wait for Trace to ruin the moment. Resentment was already budging its way in, reminding me this wasn’t any kind of happily ever after.
I didn’t suddenly have a boyfriend. I’d had one single sexual experience with my crush. That was all. Only a child would see it as more than that.
“Thank you,” I said, because I wanted him to know I truly did appreciate having finally had this. “You’re welcome to take a shower before you go. It’s tiny, but it works.”
Silence descended between us swiftly enough to indicate I’d said the wrong thing.
“Okayyy,” Trace said. “I take it that’s my cue to leave.”
“No, that’s not…” I felt him move out from underneath me. “Wait, that’s not what I meant.”
“Pretty sure it was. I understand, Wolfe.”
“No,” I said, grabbing his wrist before he could move off the bed. “You said no strings.”
Trace met my eyes and looked so… understanding. Empathetic. Kind. It made my eyes smart. He was familiar and also not. Family but… not.
“No,” he said patiently. “You said no strings.”
I blew out a breath. “Right.”
He inhaled a breath, held it for a beat, then exhaled.
“Why don’t I give you some space—” He held a finger over my opening mouth.
“—just to let us both clear our heads? I won’t leave the area, I promise.
But this way, you can take a little time to think about things, and I can do the same.
Then we can check in with each other later. Does that sound fair?”
I thought about it before responding. He was right. Mostly because I was afraid of hearing myself beg him not to leave again, and I knew I would if we spent more time together.
“Where are you staying?”
He grinned and thumbed over his shoulder. “I’m the obnoxious orange tent by the entrance.”
“You’re kidding. I drove right past it on the way in.”
He shook his head and leaned in to press a kiss to my forehead. “I’m only fifty yards away. Come find me if you need me. For anything.”
He moved off the bed and got dressed, allowing me plenty of time to watch him move through the motions. He was a beautiful man. Had the body of a much younger one because his job was physically demanding and his hobbies involved outdoor adventure.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I said with a huff of laughter. “Like, it’s not fair. I’ve hiked almost every day for weeks, and my ass still doesn’t look like that.”
He peeked back at me over his shoulder as he wriggled into his pants, deliberately drawing attention back to his plump cheeks. “You obviously haven’t seen your ass.”
The orgasm made me feel brave. “Oh yeah? Not bad?”
He grinned. I could only see half of his lips, but it was enough. “It’ll do.”
I felt the warm flush of satisfaction, wondering whether he would ever want to fuck me. While I felt brave, I didn’t feel brave enough to ask that. If the answer was a negative, it would kill the happy buzz I had.
And also crush me for life, so.
“You want to grab dinner later?” he asked. It came out casually, like it was no big deal. And maybe to him, it wasn’t.
But it was to me.
“Oh.” Really, Wolfe?
He turned to face me, yanking his T-shirt on and running fingers through his hair to smooth it. “Too… stringy?” he asked with a slight smile.
“What? No. I… it’s just… um.” I stopped and swallowed, throwing out a casual smile of my own to let him know how not a big deal this was. “We were going to do steaks,” I said.
I gestured at the area between Thierry and Armand’s Airstream and the Reynosos’ fifth wheel, where the group had already established a spot around one of the campground’s metal fire bowls.
Trace pressed his lips together and nodded. “No problem. I’ll… well, I guess maybe I won’t head to Jake’s,” he said with a wink that made my stomach flip and my soft cock twitch.
“Join us!” I blurted. “I mean. It’s a group thing. No big deal. You can… run up to the market and pick up a steak. Or chicken. Or whatever you want. And then Thierry and Armand—they’re really nice—they’ll cook it for you. If you want. Armand is really good at grilling since he got the Blackstone.”
I clamped my lips closed to stop the inane plea.
But then I couldn’t help it and added a little more. “And sometimes I play the guitar and, uh, sing.”
“Yeah?” His face softened into a smile. “You’d be okay with me joining?”
I nodded, hopefully not desperately. “Yeah. Sure.”
He studied my face before nodding. “Okay. Text me when it’s time, and I’ll come over. Anything else I should bring? Drinks? A side?”
I shook my head. “I mean, whatever you want to drink, but no. There’ll be plenty. The Reynosos usually cook way too much. She likes to feed people.”
He stepped closer like he was going to touch me or kiss me, but then he stopped and nodded. “Okay, then. See you tonight.”
I watched him slide open the door and step out into the sunlight. Thankfully, he slid the door closed behind him. I was still bare-ass naked and with only two functioning brain cells left to rub together.
I fell back onto my bed and closed my eyes, running the encounter through my memory loop over and over and over until my dick was ready for round two.
Holy fuck.
I’d just exchanged blow jobs with Trace Bishop.
And he hadn’t run away.
I blinked my eyes open and saw my journal sitting on the nearby countertop.
There was no need to reach for it. Everything I was feeling—all the words surfing lazily on the waves in my head—settled permanently inside of me.
And there was no chance I’d forget any of it.