Page 4
I pulled back a fraction. “Oh, baby, that’s so hot. Does sucking me make you want to come?”
He made a broken sound of need. I thrust my dick deeper into his throat. He gave a strangled shout, throat squeezing, and my balls drew up tight.
“Shit, I’m gonna—”
My cock unloaded over his tongue, pouring down his throat. He spluttered and swallowed and shuddered, warmth splashing my thigh. His cock pulsed in his hand, spilling over with his climax.
I pulled out of his mouth, distantly aware that I should have asked before coming down his throat. Should have offered to wear a condom. Something.
I had a clean bill of health, but Joyride didn’t know that.
My head was stuffed with cotton, not quite firing on all cylinders. I couldn’t stop looking at his slick, swollen lips. I dropped down to kiss him once more.
He let me push my tongue in and taste myself. Let me suck his bottom lip. He was malleable, a little soft. When I glanced up, there was something fragile about his expression.
“Was that okay?” I asked. “I should have asked about condoms. Sorry. I don’t have anything.”
“It’s fine.” His voice came out wrecked. “Don’t worry, Kit. It was just what the doctor ordered.”
I chuckled. “You’re right. I’m the doctor.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said. This guy didn’t care if I was a Doctor of Physical Therapy. He was a hookup. We’d probably never see each other again. It made me a little sad. “You come here often?”
“In my Hummer?”
“To Ignite?” I said with a little laugh.
“Not really,” he said.
I waited a beat, but he didn’t offer any more information.
“Me either,” I said. “Guess this is a one-time thing.”
He ran his hands through my hair. “But what a good time it was.”
“Mmm.”
“I’m such a sucker for a redhead,” he said.
I drew back. “Excuse you, my hair is auburn.”
He grinned. “My mistake. I’m a sucker for men with auburn hair and freckled dicks.”
“It’s way too dark to see freckles on my dick,” I protested, even though, yes, they were there. Damn it. I hated those freckles.
“Must have been my imagination,” he said lightly. He pushed upright. “I should get going. It’s pretty late, and I’ve got a drive ahead of me to get home.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “Me too.”
I considered asking for his number, but something told me he wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. It wasn’t like I had a lot of room in my life for a relationship, either.
I definitely didn’t have the time to commute to Omaha—or whatever suburb he lived in. Not when my sister needed me in Riverton.
My phone buzzed with a text. I glanced down.
Dakota:
