His eyelashes flutter as he processes. “You had no intention of sucking me off,” he says finally. “You were just teasing me.”
I hide my smile. “Me? Tease you?”
His laugh sounds more like a choke. “Oh, it’s on now.” He glares at me, but there’s humor there too. “Just wait until we get home.” His growl sends shivers of electricity through me.
I laugh and turn up the sexy dance-pop song that’s just started. His eyes keep darting back to me as I wiggle-dance in my seat. Whenever our eyes meet, I flash him a suggestive smile and toss my hair. His hands clench around the steering wheel, but I can see his mouth twitching with humor.
“You’re terrible,” he says finally with a laugh.
“Come on, Logan. It’s impossible not to dance to this song.”
With a resigned sigh, Logan lightly shimmies his shoulders.
“Yes!” I crow.
We pass a sign announcing our imminent return to Sagebrush. I perk up, then bite my lip. A bittersweetness lingers.
On the side of the road at the exit is a town marshal cruiser. I slide down in my seat. I try to forget for one moment, then the universe reminds me that I’m not meant to be happy.
A month after I ran away, there was a moment when I missed Logan and his family so much I thought maybe I could return. They had forgiven me for so much before; I thought maybe they could overlook my home-wrecker sins and insults to his mom. I was still homeless, and so desperately wanted it to be true, that they could possibly love me that much. I went online at the library to look up the best public transportation options back to Sagebrush, and on a whim, went to the Sagebrush town website.
I still remember my reflexive sob when I saw his shiny bald head pop up on the screen. Rick Dawson, town marshal. Nowhead of law enforcement. It was the last time I would let myself look up anything about Sagebrush again. I couldn’t handle any more heartbreak or crushed hopes.
Logan is not fooled that I’m just wanting to take a peek at the underside of the dash, of course. Damn him.
“You okay?” he asks, frowning.
I give him a little salute from my curled-up fetal position. “Just peachy,” I say. “This is, uh, what all the cool kids are dancing like now. You would know this if you left Sagebrush more often.”
“Sure,” he says, his tone humoring me.
Before I know it, we’re back at the house. Logan holds up a hand and then walks around to open up the passenger door for me. He leads me inside, a warm, steady hand at my lower back, then points to his bedroom.
“Go on in,” he says, his voice mock serious. “Straight to my bedroom. Take off your shorts and lie down on the bed face down.”
Ah. I guess it’s time for him to exact retribution for my teasing earlier. I give him a wink and take a second to enjoy his blush, despite his best attempts to look serious and commanding. I then flounce over to do his bidding.
A few seconds later, he climbs onto the bed after me. I reach back to pull off my panties, but he stops me. “That’s my job.”
He hovers over me, his warmth against my bare skin. He hooks two fingers into the top elastic of my panties and tugs them down slightly. He stops almost instantly, his hot breath and then his warm, wet tongue tracing along the top. Then he tugs them a little lower. I shiver with every touch, the moisture cool before his warm tongue traces a new path along the top curve of my ass.
Another millimeter down, sliding lower and lower. His hot, wet tongue ghosts over each curve so slowly. It is agony. It is heaven. My panties are pulled tight against my ass, adding to the sensual feeling of being slowly unwrapped.
His tongue dips between the seam of my cheeks, and I squeak. He pulls my cheeks apart, and I groan when his breath coasts over all the most intimate parts of me. He runs his tongue along one inside seam and down the other. He draws closer and closer to my back channel, his breath skimming over it with every pass. I am panting, pressing my ass up toward his face. I want him to touch me there. It’s not something I thought I would want, but god, I am desperate for it now.
Finally, the tip of his tongue brushes against that forbidden place, and my relieved moan is embarrassingly loud. He begins to lick it in earnest, his own moans muffled against my ass. I let out a whimper with each swipe of his tongue. I have no idea if I can come from this, but the pleasure is so good, I don’t want him to ever stop.
Then he pulls back. The soft tongue skimming resumes along the top of my cheeks.
“No,” I moan. “No, please. I’m sorry.”
“Shh,” he murmurs, his hand rubbing gently against my leg as if to soothe me. It does not soothe me.
“I’ll never tease you again,” I promise fervently.
He chuckles. “Yes, you will.”
The torture continues. My backside is licked so slowly and thoroughly that he must know every inch of my skin better than I do. He reaches the very bottom curve of my ass, and my panties slouch against my thighs, all tension gone. I spread my legs apart, hoping he’d get the hint, but he merely pushesmy legs back together and then licks lightly across my closed folds. A pathetic sob bursts from me.
