The Cheshire cat smile is back, and she leans across me to set the jar of balm on the bedside table, slowly kissing my neckand cheek, before she clasps her hands behind her back. I think all the blood in my body rushes south as she slowly folds herself, her eyes holding mine captive, and licks the underside of my cock from base to tip.
Her tongue is warm, soft, and wet, but when her lips close over the tip and she dips the tip of her tongue in the slit to suck the precum, I nearly come right then.
Hissing through my teeth, I wrap her ponytail around my hand. “Christ, you feel good.”
She’s still straddling my legs, and her perfect heart-shaped ass is in the air, if only she were naked, it would be the perfect view.
The heat of her mouth slowly takes my shaft inch by inch until the head bumps the back of her throat, and I groan. She’s so fucking hot in every way. When she moves back up the shaft, my skin is shiny with saliva, and she circles her tongue around the head once and moves back down.
Using her ponytail, I push her further down, and she moans. The vibration in her throat buzzes over my cock, making it twitch.
As she increases her speed, her head bobs up and down, I feel my balls draw up. “Sugar, if you keep going like that, I’m going to come.” It’s a ten-second warning. Stop now or swallow it all.
She moans again and sucks harder as she moves back up to the tip. Cinching her ponytail in my hand, I move her head back down and half-way up before I come in her mouth with a growl. She swallows each surge as I pour into her mouth. “Fuuuuck.” I groan.
With one last suck, she sits up and wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her wrist and smiles. Crawling on her knees up to my hips so she can sit on my still hard dick, she says, “There, have you forgiven me for making you chase me?”
Snaking my arms around her, I pull her to me and kiss her hard. “Sugar, I’ve forgiven you for every time you make me chase you from here on out. Now take these clothes off and lay down with your legs open and your hands over your head.”
32
NORA
THE LITTLEdevice attached to the button on my shirt near my collar is tiny, and Rhys assured me it’s nearly impossible to detect. That doesn’t stop the cold sweat on my forehead and down my back.
Tuck, Mason, and Jax left an hour ago to ‘get into place’ around the gas station. They were all dressed in black fatigues, tight long-sleeved shirts, and combat boots, giving me a glimpse of how they look when they’re working. Even though my body is sore from our night last night, in the best way, seeing Tuck’s powerful body accentuated by the clothes and weapons hooked on him sent a rush of arousal to my center.
I’ve never considered myself the type of girl who gets off on strength, power, and aggression, but here I am, salivating over the physical strength and lethality of the man who will stand between me and danger. He also files away every little detail of what makes my body sing.
Just before they left, he pulled me into him, his nose buried in my neck. But needing some levity to calm my nerves, I whispered in his ear, “Can you wear that outfit later tonight?”
His baritone chuckle instantly soothed some of my nerves. If he’s not worried, I shouldn’t be worried. Right?
Setting his lips next to my ear, he whispered back. “Sugar, I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear.” The heat of his breath on the shell of my ear sent a shiver up my spine, and I gripped his shoulders tighter. Then he whispered, “Even though you won’t see me, I’ll be right there.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and I didn’t trust myself to talk, so I just nodded against his head. With another soft kiss, he walked out the door.
Rhys brought Kinley’s SUV for me to drive to the gas station, and my knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I take the curves on the picturesque road under the tree canopy. I remember the night I drove into town a little more than a month ago and the sky was so gray and scary. Today, the sun is out and the birds are singing - in direct opposition to my mood.
The parking lot of the station is the same, but with fewer cars, today there are only two sitting at the front curb. Parking just left of the front doors, where Rhys told me to park, I take a deep breath and shake my hands.
Trying not to look obvious, I glance to each side of the store to see if I can see black clothing anywhere, but I only see trees. Then I wonder if Mason is watching me right now. Knowing they are out there helps to calm my rapidly beating heart.
I look through the front window of the store and see one lone person sitting at the tables toward the back by the TV. Talking out loud so they can hear me through the spy button on my collar, I say, “I think I see him in the back of the store. He’s sitting at one of the tables.”
Rhys’s voice is smooth in the tiny communication device in my ear. “Roger that. You’re doing great, Nora.”
Fisting and flexing my hands in my lap, I count to three and take a deep breath as I open the car door. The inside of the store is exactly the way I remember it; it still smells like pizza. Pausingas the front door closes behind me, it feels like I’m being sealed into a ring with a hungry lion.
The brown eyes I’ve looked into a million times slide in my direction, and I can see anger looking at me. There’s also something else I’ve not seen before, there’s a coldness there like I’m just a bug to be squashed.
The sound of my pulse is rushing in my ears, and my legs move mechanically toward the back of the store, all the while twisting the ring on my finger faster with each step. Trying to calm my nerves, I remind myself that it’s just Matt and we are in a public place, but it works only minimally.
Stopping next to the bench across from him, I start to sit, and he shakes his head and stands, sweeping his hand to point at the bench he just vacated. “Sit next to me, beautiful.”
His tone is flat and cold, but I guess he feels like he doesn’t have to pretend anymore. If he was just pretending the entire time, it makes my stomach churn. Glancing around the store, I clear my throat and slide onto the bench before he sits next to me. He turns in my direction and sets his arm on the back of the bench. There is a folder of papers sitting on the table in front of us.
He stares at me, his eyes moving down my body and back up. With a smirk, he puts his other arm on the table, making the cage of his body feel more oppressive when he says, “I remember that look. You’ve got that just-been-fucked look, Nora.”
