Chapter Eight #3
“Are you really asking me that question?” she asked back,
not softly. “You’ve got a truck, Jag. It was you who put me on the back of your
bike two hours ago. For me, I know what I like and I don’t have any hangups
going for it. But I wouldn’t hassle with going to a date’s brother’s house for
dinner and what that might communicate unless I intended to know that date and
his brother really freaking well.”
“Come here,” he murmured, gripping her ribs and pulling her
down to him.
She put a hand on his chest and stated, “You need to
understand now, I’m Beatles, not Stones.”
“I don’t give a fuck.” He gripped her tighter. “Come here.”
“Though ‘Gimme Shelter’ might have the best lead-in of any
rock song in history.”
“Baby?”
“What?”
“Shut up and come here.”
She stared in his face.
Then she slid her hand up his chest to his neck and back
into his hair.
And she came there.
It was morning, and like the day before, Archie had
woken before him.
But unlike yesterday, she didn’t wake up in the mood to
watch him sleep.
She woke in a very different mood.
And she made it so Jagger woke up in that same mood.
Which was why they were now face to face, she had her leg
thrown over his hip, and he had two fingers knuckles-deep in her wet, tight
pussy.
She went for his dick.
“Nope, hands off,” he growled, shifting his hips away.
“Baby,” she moaned, her hips moving with his fingers.
“The first time I come for you, I come in you.”
She whimpered.
“Ride those,” he ordered, then to scatter her attention with
the intent to take it off his cock, he took her mouth, thrust his tongue in,
and encouraged her rhythm with the hand he had at her ass and the movements of
his tongue.
She did as urged and kept doing it even when she broke their
mouths and shoved her face in his neck.
“Clit?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she gasped.
He adjusted his hand to get his thumb where it needed to be.
“Tip your head back, baby, I wanna
watch your face,” he told her.
She tilted her head.
Christ.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured.
“Can I just hold your cock?” she asked.
“I’m primed, sweetheart. You touch me, I’ll blow.”
She moaned again, pressed into him, and her hips went
overdrive.
“There you go,” he murmured.
Her leg at his hip tensed and her pussy clutched his
fingers.
“That’s it, Archie,” he whispered.
“Jagger.”
And he was right.
That was it.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth drifted open, her
tongue touched her lower lip, and the walls of her sex convulsed around his
fingers as her clit contracted and released repeatedly against his thumb.
It looked great.
And it felt great.
When the tension caused by her orgasm ebbed from her body,
he rolled to his back, pulling her on top, but keeping his hand between her
legs, letting it glide through the wet, making her shiver and lift her knees to
clamp on at his hips.
“Too much?” he asked quietly.
“No,” she answered, snuggling the side of his neck with her
face.
“You got plans Sunday?”
“No,” she repeated.
“Early start. Take a ride. Somewhere, doesn’t matter where.
Vail. Breck. Estes Park. You pick. We’ll have lunch. Come back. The rest of
Sunday we fuck. I want you first in your bed. If you don’t have time to get
provisions, I’ll drop them by when I pick you up for dinner Saturday. We’re
going out for steaks. There’s something you want for our fuck-in Sunday, text
it to me and I’ll grab it when I go shopping. Cool?”
“Way cool.”
He stopped his fingers gliding and cupped her.
She tipped her head and said against his jaw, “I don’t mind
you come in my mouth.”
“If I can’t hold out for that sweet pussy until Sunday, we
can do that tonight. Or tomorrow. But we only got two days until Sunday. I can
make it.”
Or, at least, he hoped he could.
“Mm.”
She took that as a challenge.
He grinned at his ceiling fan.
Keeping his hand in her panties, he slid it to her ass,
asking, “What’s today’s plan?”
“My turn to cook tonight. At mine.”
“Time?”
“Whenever you come over. Just hit S.I.L. We’ll go up
together.”
“I’ll text when I’m on my way.”
She shifted like she was going to move away so he cupped her
ass in both hands.
“Where you goin’?”
She lifted her head and looked down at him. “Sucks to say,
but we gotta start our days, boyfriend.”
“You don’t leave my bed juicy.”
Her eyebrows lifted before they lowered, her tongue came out
again, the tip hit the lower, then the upper, before her teeth scored the
bottom and she whispered, “What?”
“Panties off, climb on my face.”
She blinked.
“I don’t ask twice, Arch.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
Her eyelids lowered, she ducked to him and touched her lips
to his.
Then his girl lost the panties and climbed on his face.
He was unsurprised she tasted fantastic.
He didn’t have high hopes he could wait to blow for her
until Sunday.
But still.
He was going to try.
Mid-morning Jag texted her.
*When* it happens, how many?
How many what? she asked in reply.
Kids, he answered.
Jag was unsurprised again when her response was decisive and
not delayed.
Two boys.
Two girls, he parried.
Whatever, she returned.
Yeah, he said.
She sent a single red heart emoji.
That was that.
And…
Yeah.