She pushes me out. “Fuck my mouth,” she instructs.
And that’s it. I’m lost. It won’t take long. I guide my dick back into the warm paradise, curl a hand around her head, and thrust.
She nods, murmurs, sighs, and through it all…she watches me.
Her blue eyes gaze up at me with heat, curiosity, intrigue. Something else too. Something more than passion. Something like real affection.
I try to shake it off, but maybe that’s what’s really frying my brain—the realization that we aren’t stopping, we aren’t forgetting it happened, we just keep happening.
But once again, I try to stop thinking. To let go. To give in to the sensation of her sucking my aching cock till my thighs are shaking, my balls are tightening, and pleasure is barreling down my spine.
I warn her I’m about to come, asking, “Want me to pull out?”
Shaking her head, she answers loud and clear by sucking harder. I practically black out from the ecstasy of her mouth. My brain blurs as I groan, coming hard down her throat, and she swallows.
I can barely catch my breath or get my bearings as I ease out. When I do, something wild and new hits me—I might have tied her up, but she controlled every second of that blow job.
She set the pace.
She gave the orders.
I drop down to my knees, kiss those beautiful lips once, then say, “My turn.”
“You better finish what you started last night,” she says, another demand.
It’s one I desperately want to meet. “You better fucking believe it.”
But I don’t ask if she wants to be unbound. I do it because I want her to use her hands. I free them from the headband, scoop her up, and carry her to the bed, setting her on the mattress where I peel off her panties in record time.
“Put your hands in my hair. Fuck my face hard. Do whatever you want, sweetheart,” I tell her.
She breathes out hard, excitedly. “Yes, sir.”
In seconds, she’s pushed me down between her thighs, roped her hands in my hair, and is rocking against my face.
It’s glorious the way she owns her pleasure as she discovers what she wants. And I’m so fucking lucky that what she wants is me.
It doesn’t take long till she’s arching and writhing, panting andmoaning, then gasping a long, sensual string ofoh gods till she’s falling apart beneath me.
Eventually, sometime later, we slide under the covers, the sheets rustling, the dog hopping up on the end of the bed and settling into a ball with a contented sigh.
“I guess we’re not forgetting so well,” she says.
“Definitely not.”
She’s pensive, staring at the ceiling for a while till she turns to me. “But we should be careful. I know the job’s important to you.”
Now that’s something I haven’t heard before—a woman trying to protect me. Until Ripley. “It is. I appreciate that.”
It’s a good reminder too. If word gets out I’m sleeping with a client, Apex Solutions could bear the brunt of the harm. We could lose business. I saw what happened to my dad, and to my mom as collateral damage when business got mixed with pleasure. Don’t want that to happen to Dean and me. This situation isn’t the same as my dad’s secret second family. Not by any stretch.
Still, I’m not an innocent man. The least I can do is vow to be better. “I’ll work even harder to protect you. It’s not just the paps. There are fans now. Whoever took that photo didn’t get too close, but you never know. The town is full of tourists and press. Everyone needs to be vigilant,” I say.
She smiles softly. “I’ll ring the town bell and let them know.”
“I mean it,” I press.
“The town bell?” she asks with an arch of a brow.
