“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” I feathered my fingers over the back of his neck.
“My professional, medical opinion is that your heart is indeed beating.” His grin was crooked. “As a matter of fact, it’s practically galloping.”
“That’s all your doing, buddy.” I closed my eyes. “Each erratic beat is thanks to you.”
“I’ll take every one of your heartbeats, Emma. And I’ll keep them safe.” His voice was suddenly serious. “Making your pulse go crazy is a pleasure.”
He swept my hair behind my back, his fingers combing through the tangles before they came back to close around my nipple again. I made a small noise of sleepy approval, but I was too sated to move.
“Are you falling asleep on me?” Deacon sounded equal parts of amused and strained, and I became aware of his erection against my back.
“Of course not.” I smiled. “I’m just . . . recovering. You know, getting my second wind.”
“In that case . . . would you be interested in seeing my bedroom?” He rained small kisses along my cheek. “It’s a great place for, um, recovery. And second winds, too.”
I nodded. “Show me the way.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” He stood up, lifting me with him. As he began to walk in what I assumed was the direction of his bedroom, he half-stumbled and cursed under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” I clung to his neck, afraid he was about to drop me.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I forgot I’d unbuttoned my shorts, and now they’re falling down.” He groped under me, trying to hold onto his pants.
Burying my face in his shoulder, I shook with a wicked case of the giggles. “Can you just see it, Deacon? You’d fall, maybe hit your head and take me down with you, pinning me beneath you, and someone from the hospital would find us here halfway through tomorrow—you with your pants around your ankles and me with my underwear dragging from my feet. We’d be the talk of St. Agnes.”
“At least I’d die a happy man.” He nudged open a door to a dark room.
“With my luck, it would be Mira who would find us. And she’d tell everyone that clearly I had lured the saintly Dr. Girard to his doom.”
Deacon dropped me onto his bed. “That’s true. You really are quite a temptress, Emma Carson. I mean, I took you to meet my grandparents today. How much more wholesome could anything be? And then I fully intended to drive you back home, like a gentleman should, but instead, you demanded a joyride.” He wagged his head, sighing as he let his shorts fall to the ground and kicked them away. As I watched with greedy eyes, he reached back to grab the collar of his shirt to drag it over his head. “And now . . . look where we are.”
I pushed up on my elbows to watch him, enjoying the view. God, he was built. And perfect. I licked my lips.
“Lose the boxers, too, baby. I want myrealjoyride right now.” Sitting up, I unzipped my dress and wriggled it the rest of the way off, tossing both it and my panties onto the floor.
“My God, Emma. Just look at you.” Deacon stared. He didn’t break his gaze for a minute, even when he managed to get his underwear off.
“I’d rather you stop looking and come over here.” I patted the bed. “Remember that second wind I was talking about? I think I just got it.”
He crawled across the wide mattress toward me. “Oh, yeah? And just what do you intend to do with this burst of energy?”
I shoved his shoulder, pushing him onto his back, and flung one leg over his hips. “I told you, baby. I’m taking my joyride.”
His eyes dilated, and he reached up to palm my breasts. “Is it okay if I get some joy out of this ride, too?”
“If you don’t, I’m doing something wrong.” I looked down at his stiff cock in front of me. Wetting my lips, I circled my fingers around its girth and slowly pumped a couple of times. “Just remember, though. Turnabout is fair play, and you put me through some torture out there. It’s only right if I return the favor.”
“See, I told you. You’re evil.” He grinned. “I love it.”
I laughed softly and slid down to rest my ass on his thighs so that I could bend. Keeping my hand firmly on his erection, I started off with a delicate lick of the head, letting the tip of my tongue play along the slit. Deacon’s body jerked in response, and he growled.
“Calm down there, handsome. This is a long game I’m playing. Don’t ruin my fun.” I flattened my tongue and ran it from the base of the shaft upwards. “Mmmmm. I think I need more of this.”
I opened my mouth and took the tip of his cock between my lips, feeding it into the heat of my mouth little by little, inch by delectable inch. With my free hand, I played with his balls, teasing and enticing all along the way.
I couldn’t quite take him completely into my mouth, but when he hit the back of my throat, I swallowed and then moved up, my cheeks hollowing as I sucked.
“Jesus, Emma. Holy God.” Deacon’s eyes were closed, but when I paused to bob my head up and down in short, shallow movements, he opened them to look down at me, brushing my hair out of the way to see better. “Oh, God. I don’t know which is better. Seeing you with your mouth full of my cock, or feeling your tongue . . . your lips . . . your teeth working on me. I’m not sure how long I can hold out, babe. I’ve been ready for this for way too long.”
