I laugh and kiss him again, wrapping my free arm around his neck, the other still holding the shovel. “How about I cook forus? We can eat inside my house and then we can head out to the barn?”
He pretends to think, holding onto me with his strong arms circled around my waist. “I suppose that’s acceptable for the second date.”
I laugh and then release him, swatting his ass because I can. “Now get back to work. I have plans for this hot tub.”
“How about you tell me all about those plans while I get back to work?” he suggests, wagging his eyebrows, and I can’t believe this is real.
That this man is flirting with me and talking about dates.
And while I don’t go into the dirty details of everything I want to do to him in that hot tub, I do let my mind go there as he works.
Something tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking about too as he works away. Sorry, not sorry.
19
GABE
It’s our . . . fifth date? Sixth?
Hell, I don’t know.I’m not keeping track because it doesn’t really matter.
All that matters is that we’re dating, and his tongue is in my mouth right now as we move into my living room.
I went over to his place on Saturday, where he made a delicious meal in his large kitchen before we sat down and ate before heading out to the barn. We started a documentary, but I couldn’t tell you what it was about. Before I knew it, he was on my lap again, and we were making each other come.
Afterward, we just lay there on the soft blanket, touching and kissing softly. Talking some. And I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life as I am about him. I’m crazy about him, just like I told him.
When I’m not with him, I’m thinking about him. The guys at the shop have been teasing me nonstop about how smitten I am, but I can’t seem to wipe the goofy-ass smile off my face long enough to tell them to shut up.
I am smitten. Beyond smitten.
I’ve been to his house almost every night this week so far. But since it’s Thursday, I invited him to trivia at the tavern, and he shocked the hell out of me by accepting. And while this time, none of Oakley’s Crew was there, and it did seem like a pretty slow night at the tavern, I could feel his nerves.
We ducked out a little early when I invited him to come to my house. He nearly knocked his chair over, darting up so fast to take my hand and lead me out of the bar. And now, here we are, not bothering to take a breath as we kiss our way to the couch in my living room.
He shoves me down onto my back, and there’s no inhibition whatsoever as he climbs onto my body and proceeds to kiss me, sucking on my tongue and driving me wild. Holy fuck, he’s good at that. He’s good at everything, whether he realizes it or not.
He starts to pull my T-shirt off over my head, and I raise my arms to help him out as he kisses down over my bare chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples and making me groan loudly.
“You know, we’ve mastered frotting,” he muses, licking down over my abs. I’m trying to pay attention, but all I can think about is his mouth on me as he scoots down between my thighs and flicks the button on my jeans open. “But I think we should move on to more.”
I didn’t know that grinding our cocks together until we both come had a name, but it really doesn’t matter. All I can think is yes, yes, yes. I think I manage to nod as he looks up at me, a wicked grin on his beautiful lips.
He unzips my jeans slowly, being mindful of my straining erection, and then tugs my jeans and underwear off. I kick them onto the floor, lying totally naked beneath him, and his eyes dart over every inch of my body.
I should maybe feel a little nervous, but all I feel is excited. Especially my dick, which is standing straight up, flushed and leaking. When his eyes move to my groin, I groan again while helooks like he’s going to devour me, licking his lips, then reaching his long, elegant fingers out to wrap around my aching shaft.
“I love your dick,” he says, making himself comfortable between my thighs.
“Pretty sure it loves you too,” I say as said dick twitches in his hand, and he licks his lips again, making them all shiny with spit. He leans forward, and I nearly shoot off the couch just from the first tentative lick he gives the head.
“Mmmm,” he moans, and holy shit, I’m not going to last. I’ve come my brains out the last five or so days in a row, and I still can’t get enough of him.
“Please,” I say, my fingers threading through his hair, but I don’t direct him on what to do. As hard as it is, I lie back and let him do whatever he wants with me.
And what he must want is to tease the everloving shit out of me. He starts slow, licking along my shaft and then back to the tip, dragging his tongue through my slit and making sinful sounds that go straight to my balls.
He’s holding onto my base with his hand, wrapping it around me and sucking the head into his mouth, taking more and more as he strokes me. “Dakota.” I don’t know what I’m trying to say. It’s driving me wild that I’m fully naked and he’s still fully clothed.
