He groans low in his throat, a sound that vibrates against me. I canfeelthe sound as he flicks his tongue through my wetness. My toes curl in the water. Wrapping my feet around his back, I tug him closer, grip his hairharder, roping my fingers through all those thick, damp strands. Needing more.
He stops for a second. “It’ll be easier like this,” he says, then maneuvers my wet bikini bottoms off me.
I’ve never been happier to be half-naked than I am right now.
His breathing is ragged and carnal as he eats me on the edge of his hot tub. My nipples are pebbling in my damp bikini top. I let my head fall back, giving into the pleasure as Ford licks and sucks me voraciously. Jets of water froth around us, fizzing against my legs.
Sparks fly under my skin, all through my cells, then they speed up when he flicks his tongue in a long tantalizing line down, then back up. When he sucks my clit into his mouth again, I am lost.
Loud too.
I don’t know when I started, but I’m moaning his name over and over. Both dogs notice, watching like little horndogs. But I don’t bother correcting mine. I’m too far gone from my neighbor’s mouth owning my pleasure to even think about sayingdown, boy.
Ford’s groans are addictive as he eats me. They mingle with mine, a new chorus of need and want. Soon, I’m gripping his head harder; he’s swirling his tongue faster. I’m raking my nails through his hair. He’s digging his fingers into my flesh. And we are communicating without words.
With just all this pent-up desire.
That spirals higher.
That spins faster.
That takes over my body and mind. Bliss coils in my belly, then spreads like a pinwheel. And in seconds, I’m falling over the edge.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I’m chanting as his hungry lips and talented tongue work me over to the other side.
Pleasure bursts inside me, bright and strong.
And so damn loud that I briefly wonder if other neighbors hear the two of us. But I can’t hold on to thoughts long enough to care. A minute later, maybe more, I blink open my eyes.
One very smug man is gently kissing my legs, running his hands soothingly along my calves. Two dogs are standing on their back feet, wagging tails, asking with big eyes if I’m okay.
“I’m very okay,” I tell Simon, and Zamboni too.
Ford laughs, then dips his face and bites my thigh.
“Ouch,” I yelp.
He lets go, looking unrepentant. “Yeah, you taste better than I’d dreamed.” He rises up in the hot tub, shorts tented gloriously. And, well, pointedly.
“I want that,” I say, gesturing to his enormous erection.
“Good. Because. I really need to fuck you, Skylar. So get naked and get inside.”
I shiver in excitement. “But not in that order?”
That earns me a swat on my thigh. “Inside. Now. I have plans for you.”
I swing my legs out of the tub, grab a towel, and knock back some champagne. “What are they?” I ask, with more excitement than I feel when I spot the perfect vintage dress in my size.
“You’re about to find out.”
He drops his shorts, and now I want him more than anyone has ever wanted a thrift store treasure.
25
BETTER USES FOR CHAMPAGNE
FORD
