I want to spin a little longer.
FOUR
DidI get us a room in a hotel with a pickleball court, of all things? Yes, yes, I did.
What’s more surprising is that I’m equally looking forward to her face in the morning when I challenge her to a match as I am to having her in my bed tonight.
She drops to her knees the second the hotel door clicks shut. Her pupils are so blown, the brown is barely there when she looks up at me through dark lashes. Then she leans in, kissing a slow line along my cock, nuzzling it through my slacks.
“Fuck, Summer,” I groan.
She takes it as the invitation it is. My belt is undone, and my zipper tugged down before I catch my next breath, pants pooling at my ankles.
My hissed inhale is loud in my ears as she cups me over my boxer-briefs.
She licks up my length and sucks lightly at the head, wet heat seeping through the fabric, sending my head lolling back against the door.
I look down as she hooks her fingers in my waistband and drags my boxer-briefs down to join my pants. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to.
But, fuck, do I want to kiss her again.
It’s not usually something I do. Easier to keep lines clear without the added layer of intimacy. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I kissed a woman. Not properly. Not likethis. But I’m already halfway addicted to Summer’s mouth.
She lays a hand on my stomach, holding up the tail of my shirt as she licks up my length. This time, I feel every wet, hot inch. When she reaches the tip, she takes me into her mouth and all the way to the back of her throat without preamble.
“Fuck,” I practically shout, the word bouncing off the walls of the narrow entryway. I can’t say I care much about waking the other guests.
She takes me in again, somehow deeper, and I’m helpless to do anything but tighten my grip on the doorknob.
She draws back slowly, eyes locked on mine—glassy and lust-filled. And something else.
Where did this woman come from?
Not for the first time tonight, I wonder. And for reasons that have nothing to do with how well she’s sucking my cock.
The way she looks at me, like she sees parts of me I’m not sure exist anymore, makes my chest tight. Is that trust? It’s been so long since I’ve seen it in a woman’s eyes, I barely recognize it. Don’t know what to do with it.
It’s foolish of her to trust me with something I might break.
But I’m not sure I want to let it go, either.
Fuck. I need to kiss her again.
I reach down and pull her up. As soon as she’s close enough, I slam my lips to hers.
Our mouths part only so I can tug her sweater over her head. She’s wearing a tangerine bra. Of course she is. It’s so perfectly her. Unexpected and bright and exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
My lips tip up when hers find mine again. Our tongues slide against one another before I ease back to kiss her neck, impatient to get to that sheer fabric and the peaked nipples visible through it.
Her sounds of pleasure vibrate against my mouth, and I kiss the spot again, just to hear them.
I’m practically folded in half by the time I reach her breasts, so I grab her thighs and haul her up. She wraps her legs around my waist with a surprised squeal, arms flying to my shoulders.
I nearly trip over my own feet, getting us to the bed, but I manage to shuffle us there instead of eating shit on the carpet.I lay her on the mattress, and for a second, I just stand there, taking in the sight of her against the white sheets.
I reach for her ankle. My hand around the heel of a crimson cowboy boot, my other palm gliding up the curve of her calf as I slip it off. Then I repeat the same slow drag with the other.
Her jeans are next. I pop the button, pull the zipper down, and peel them off.
