He smirks, pushing his finger against my nose and nudging my face back. “If I ain’t know any better, I’d think you was tryna give me another one of those birthday gifts you was telling me about.”
I suck in a gasp.
The scent of the blood emanating from his lip makes saliva creep from all its hiding places in my mouth and my head nods in the most immature way.
“You sure I deserve another gift from you?” he asks.
“I…I think so.”
He laughs, and the moonlight casts a warm glow on his face as he wraps his fingers around my chin. “You wanna taste me? Is that why you keep following me around?”
“Yes.”
I stare at his bloody mouth in wonder until his calloused fingers slip from my chin to my throat in a way that makes wetness leak back into my panties. He keeps a firm but gentle hold around my neck as if he wants to make sure I won’t sneak out of his grasp and do something crazy…like kiss him without warning.
“‘Kay,” he mutters. “But this the last gift I’m taking from you. A’ight?”
I nod like some lovesick teenage girl kissing her crush for the first time, but I’m really just a grown-ass woman who can’t remember what it’s like to want to taste a man.
I lean forward, pressing my lips against Rich’s swollen ones, and an embarrassing groan shoots out of my throat. I peck his lips once and then again, inhaling him.
He tastes like those words I read in that pamphlet Yesenia gave me. No, actually, he tastes better—like metal, warm Honey Buns, and the first gulp of Texas air I breathed in outside the airport.
His chest vibrates as he laughs at the way my tongue sneaks inside his mouth and glides along his gums, lapping up the wetness I’ve been wanting. He presses his fingers into my throat so gently that I lean into them.
“Slim…” he whispers, pulling away while I chase his mouth. “Don’t do that…”
I purr out a low moan.
“Pleasedon’t do that,” he mumbles, shaking his head and nudging me away by my throat.
I gasp out, “Why no?—”
Oh.
My eyes widen as I catch his low, undisturbed ones.
I feel why.
I glance down and find his dick pushing against his fleece shorts—hard,long, and unwavering. As soon as I reach for it, he nudges my hand away. If I didn’t want to touch it so bad I’d giggle at his soft scolding, but it’s clearly begging for me, though. So I reach for it again.
“Nuh-uh,” he grunts, knocking my fingers away, and pressing his lips to mine. “Stop that.”
His free hand sneaks underneath my dress, gripping my ass cheeks with so much force that my legs spread around his and my knees sink into the prickling grass. He pulls me up onto his stomach while slurping my tongue into his mouth, and I finally taste it all—the rough stitches sitting against the inside of his cheek and the open gash from his fight with Wendell.
“Mhmm…” I moan, trying my best to swallow all of him.
He gives my tongue a long suck that makes me dig my fingernails into his biceps. A loud moan jolts out of me as he pulls his mouth from mine and plants it right in the crook of my neck above his fingers. He kisses me there and my toes curl.
We breathe hard until he pulls his face from my neck and rasps out, “Don’t.”
I blink. “Wait. What?”
“Don’t come looking for me again.”
“Bu—”
He gently pulls me back to him by my throat, letting his lips brush mine.
