Chapter 37
“The God of All Orgasms is a great middle name.”
-Celia
Flint’s mom and step-father were in the kitchen when we returned to the main house. Both were on the phone, getting damage reports from all over their property. Dena looked up when we paused in the doorway.
“You two need to be hosed down,” Dena winked. “We have about thirty minutes before we rally the chainsaw brigade.”
I raised an eyebrow at Flint. “Chainsaw brigade?”
He grabbed my hand, dragging me toward the guest wing. “That’s where everyone brings out their chainsaws and heavy equipment to remove the downed trees, open roads, get things moving again.”
“Sounds pretty important.”
“It is.”
I stopped. “If you need to go…”
Flint wiggled his eyebrows. “You heard my Mama. If there were something urgent, she would have told us. Instead, she gave us thirty minutes to clean up.”
My protest died on my tongue as Flint picked me up, cupped my backside with his huge hands, then leaned in for a tender kiss. He didn’t break off the licking and sucking as he backed into the guest room and kicked the door shut. We were both panting for air when he put me back on my feet.
Flint turned, locked the door, then put a chair in front of the doorknob.
“What’s that for?” I folded my arms over my chest.
“I’m tired of getting interrupted,” Flint reached for the hem of my top, pulling it off in one smooth move. “It’s like Mississippi is one big ‘ole cockblocker. Right now, I’m going to strip you bare, drag you into that huge shower, and lick you from head to toe until you have no fewer than three orgasms. And if by chance, another tornado tries to suck us into its vortex, I’ll die a happy man.”
My body temperature ratcheted up a good ten degrees. It was all I could do not to fan myself as Flint stripped off his clothes in record time.
“Blow,” I teased as I peeled the wet jeans from my legs. “I believe what you meant to say was - we could be blown out of here.”
I caught a glimpse of my muddy, haggard self in the mirror across the room. “Oh, good Lord. I’m a hot mess!”
My hand went immediately to the bird’s nest that was my hair, but Flint was in front of me in the blink of an eye. He pulled my hands away from my hair, then stroked his hands down my arms, my sides, and my hips.
“Hot, yes,” Flint kissed my neck right behind my ear. “Mess, no. You look like you tangled with Mother Nature and won. And I am happy to come out ahead on that fight.”
His hands slid down to my backside, pulling me flush with his body. He made quick work of my bra and panties, then led me into the bathroom. Flint turned on the shower jets, set the temperature, then stepped out of his boxer briefs.
Holy Sausage Fest.
No matter how many times I’ve seen Flint naked, it still caused the spit to dry up in my mouth. My lower belly fluttered. My lady parts were tingling, begging for Flint to touch them. I licked my lips.
Flint chuckled as he reached into the shower to test the water temperature, then pulled me under the spray. Mud, dirt, and debris immediately turned the runoff water in the shower a lovely shade of poop. I didn’t want to think about what was in the field that we ran through, and Flint obliged by taking my mind off of it completely.
He lathered up my hair, gently massaging my scalp with his strong fingers. I leaned back into his muscular chest and moaned. I could feel his arousal bobbing and poking me in the back.
I reached around to grab his dick, but he pulled slightly away.
“Not yet,lalelei,” Flint chastised as he massaged my scalp. “This is about pampering you, first.”
“You pampered me plenty at Orgasm Lake,” I reminded him. “And didn’t get much pampering yourself.”
Flint’s expert hands moved on to my shoulders and back as he worked soap and a washcloth across my body. My skin was on fire, begging to be touched, begging him to be inside me. Right. Freaking. Now.
“Flint,” I started.
