“Suck,” she commands.
I swirl my tongue around her fingers, then suck them into my mouth hard. I push my fingers further into her slick pussy. She’s so wet and I’m so thirsty.
“Waylon,” she says, gasping. “Take me home.”
CHAPTER 21
LYRIC
How we got home isa blur. He rushed me out of that storage room, grabbed his hat, made some excuse about me not feeling well, and skillfully led me through the crowd and to his truck. He opened the door, all but lifted me inside, and drove home faster than I realized it could be done. I do know at one point I looked over and he was sucking on the two fingers he had inside me but said nothing.
And me? Throbbing all the way home. Which brings us to now.
Waylon sets his hat and keys onto the table near the front door. I kick off the boots I’ve been wearing all night.
“I was jealous, you know,” he says, pausing. “When you went with Steve.”
“Why?” I’m surprised. I didn’t ever take him for the type.
“Because…” He pauses again, moving closer to me. “Because I know you. And you deserve better than Steve.”
“You know nothing about him.” I shake my head, annoyed with how judgy he’s being.
“I don’t know how women do it, but men size each other up in the first twenty or thirty seconds.”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I resist, but only a little. Because the truth is, I absolutely cannot resist this man in any real way. I just don’t want him to know that.
“And he can’t make you feel as good as I make you feel,” he says.
Waylon bends down, hiking my skirt up over my hips and gripping my ass. He lifts me into the air, encouraging me to wrap my legs around him.
“Kiss me, darlin’,” he whispers. “Kiss me like nothin’ else matters. Kiss me like we’re not roommates, like this isn’t just an arrangement. Kiss me. Please.”
I look into his eyes as I brush my knuckles over his jawline. And I give him what he wants. Because it’s what I want, too.
I kiss him hard, wrapping my hand around his throat. I kiss him deep, swirl my tongue around his. His hands tighten around me as we begin to move. He’s walking and I feel like I’m floating.
Still, I kiss him. My mouth moves against his as my body arches and writhes.
Waylon slides his hand underneath my ass and buries two fingers inside me as he navigates to his bedroom. Needless to say, he gets an A+ in multitasking.
He gently drops me down onto the bed and stands back, moving to the foot of the bed.
“Get up there on the pillow and take off your clothes,” he says, as he pulls his shirt over his head.
Dear baby Jesus. I will never get over the sight of him. Ink decorates nearly every inch of his taut skin. I watch the veins in his forearms pop as he works his belt and pants off. His broad chest swells with every breath.
I wrestle the leather halter and skirt off, leaving my panties and stockings as I watch him pull his boxer briefs down, freeing his cock.
Waylon is rock hard and his eyes are locked on me. He grips himself, sliding his hand down over his shaft, pumping as his eyes trace from my face all the way down to my panties.
“I meant everything,” he says, still stroking himself.
I pull down the last of my garments, discarding them to the floor, and lean back onto the pillow.
“Touch yourself,” he says. “The way I’m touching myself.”
Waylon’s hand slowly moves up and down the shaft of his cock and a moan escapes him.
