The jingle of bells ring out, and for one mind-bending moment, I think it’s Santa’s sleigh landing in the store. But that can’t be right. It’s late July. Hotter than hades outside. My eyes fling open, right as Betsy freezes, her mouth stuffed full of my cock. Our gazes meet. She looks so fucking good like that, I can’t let this end.
“Call out that you’ll be there in a second,” I whisper down to her.
I see her eyes dilate. Then she slides me out of her mouth and turns her head to the side.
“I’ll be right there!” she calls out.
“Now finish me off,” I whisper, sure she’ll tell me to go fuck myself for telling her what to do
She does not.
She pounces on my dick, bobbing up and down so quickly and firmly I nearly cry out. She adds in her hand, fingers in afirm ring about my cock, slick with spit. I can’t possibly last, not when she’s pulling out all the stops. The tingle turns into an inferno in the base of my spine. My balls, still in her hand, tighten, and then I’m spilling down her throat. I’m holding my breath and clenching my teeth to keep from yelling out. She feels so good. Too good. I’m trembling, out of my mind with pleasure.
But then she pops me out of that perfect warmth, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and stands. With a wicked grin, she points down at my wrecked dick.
“You might want to fix yourself before getting back out there, boss.”
And then she’s gone, off to help a customer while my world is still rocking so hard it’s surely off its axis. I shake my head to clear it, but that doesn’t help. It takes me several more minutes of deep breathing before I can fix my clothes. Then several more minutes before I trust my expression to step out onto the sales floor.
When I do, Betsy instantly turns to me and offers me a grin so wicked I almost have to go back in the storage room so I don’t sport an erection in front of our customer.
That little devil.
She fucking loved being dirty.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Betsy
I’m not a blusher.Never have been, thank goodness. But I won’t lie. My skin feels like it’s on fire the whole day after what I did to Silas in the storage room. I can still feel the bite of the concrete on my knees, the scrape of his zipper on my skin, the velvety weight of him in my mouth. I swear every customer who comes in this afternoon can see what we did painted across my face.
Silas isn’t helping much, the way he keeps looking at me across the store with a heat in his eyes that’s so blatant I’m surprised the clothes on the racks don’t go up in flames. It’s a relief when he finally flips the sign to closed and locks the door.
He spins around, his back to the door, and gives me a look so dirty I feel it in between my thighs. It’s his fault I’ve been turned on all day. The man is far dirtier than I anticipated with all the Southern charm he leads with. I don’t think I’ll ever get his voice out of my head telling me to get on my knees. Silas grins, like he knows exactly where my head has gone.
“Something wrong, storm cloud?” he drawls, sauntering up to me, cocky as hell.
I lift my nose in the air. “Nope. Not a thing.”
His chuckle pisses me off and makes me want him even more. Damn him. He puts one hand on the rack of clothing behind me where I was organizing the go-backs and leans in, whispering in my ear. “You know, you just have to ask and I’ll return the favor.”
My pride can’t make my lips form the words. My stupid, stupid pride. I can’t let a man see that I want him. Crave him. Nope. Been there once and got burned. Why would I give another man that kind of power ever again?
“Hmm.” I make a face and then shrug. “I’m good.”
Silas isn’t convinced. He dips his head even further and licks my neck before sucking my overheated skin into his mouth. I gasp and his responding chuckle vibrates through his chest.
“I tell you what. You go on a run with me right now and I’ll return the favor. I’ll reward you handsomely.” He pulls back to wag his eyebrows at me. “Your legs won’t work, guaranteed. From me, not the run.”
I swallow hard. Well, shit. That sounds…like heaven. The multiple-orgasms part, not the run, just to be clear.
“I hate running.”
“You’ll love coming on my face though,” Silas is quick to rebut.
My eyes widen. Damn. He’s a dirty talker too? He’s not offering a date. He’s not breaking the rules of our engagement in any way. And after working all afternoon while I’m turned on, I’m intrigued enough to risk running in this heat. Surely, it can’t be that bad, right?
“Fine.”
