AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Addison?”
“Yes, Master?” Her voice came out soft and serene. Almost like she was in a trance.
His cock jerked, and he nearly came. Sweet fucking Jesus. She was the most singularly marvelous creature he’d ever known.
Pulling out of her completely, he grabbed hold of his cock, pumping his hand with so much force he could hardly see straight. Mere seconds passed before jets of hot come landed upon her back and swollen, crimson bottom.
He didn’t stop until every last drop painted her skin. Only then did he come fully back to himself.
Picking up his discarded shirt, he gently wiped her skin clean. Then he lifted her up and led her toward the head of the bed, lying down with his arms around her, her back pressed to his chest.
Addison breathed out a contented sigh. “Thank you. I...God, I really needed that. I’m sorry about before.”
“You don’t need to be sorry,” he told her. “That was your penance, right? Is that what you said?”
She nodded.
“That means it’s done and over with. The only thing that matters now is what happens next. Do you know what you want to do?”
A long time passed in complete silence. After a while, he thought she may have even fallen asleep. But then she said in an unsure, almost questioning voice, “We should go back to the bar tomorrow.”
“If that’s what you want, I think it would be wise.” Mason tightened his arms around her for a moment, giving her a comforting squeeze. “I’ll still be there with you the whole time. You’re not alone.”
“No,” she said after a moment. Pure wonder filled her voice, making his heart swell with pride. “I guess I’m not.”
Their second visit to Frank’s Bar already exceeded his expectations. For one thing, Addison got out of the car and walked inside as soon as they parked. For another, when Steve asked her what she was having tonight, she answered, “A Jack and Ginger, please,” without so much as a tremor in her voice.
“You’re doing great,” Mason whispered, squeezing her thigh.
She squirmed dramatically on the hard barstool. “The throbbing in my ass is helping center me,” she whispered back with a little smirk.
He pressed his lips together to hide a smile. “Whatever works.”
“Here you are,” Steve said, returning with a drink in each hand. “A Jack and Ginger for the lady, and scotch neat for you, sir.”
Mumbling her thanks, Addison picked up her drink, taking a huge gulp. He considered suggesting she slow down, but perhaps a little liquid courage wouldn’t go amiss here.
“Where are you visiting from?” Steve asked, looking between the two of them with a genial smile. “You ran off last night before I had a chance to ask.”
Another smaller gulp, and Addison answered, “Vermont.”
“I always wanted to travel up that way.” Steve poured a beer and placed it in front of a man a couple stools down from them. The guy must be a regular, because Mason didn’t hear him order. “I’ve seen pictures of New England in the fall, but I’m sure that’s nothing compared to the real thing.”
Mason gave her thigh another gentle squeeze when she didn’t respond. You can do this.
With a shaky breath, she managed to say, “I’ve actually only been in Vermont for a couple months, so I haven’t gotten to see fall there, yet.”
“Hopefully I’ll make it out there someday,” Steve said with an almost wistful smile. “I’ve never been east of the Mississippi. Pretty sad for a man my age, wouldn’t you say?” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle.
When Addison faltered, Mason picked up the conversation, wanting to keep her father here and engaged as long as possible. “It’s never too late, right?” he said with a small smile. “How long have you lived in New Mexico?”
“Since the day I was born,” Steve answered, a note of pride in his voice. “And I’ve spent half my life right here.” He patted the smooth, lacquered wood of the bar with both hands. “My granddaddy built this place with his bare hands. I was here every day after school sweeping floors and washing glasses. When I got old enough, I started tending bar. And when ol’ Frank was ready to retire, he handed me the keys and said he knew the place was in the right hands. Proudest day of my life.”
The story had a practiced quality, like he’d told it over and over through the years, changing and refining the wording until it was perfect. Addison obviously loved it though. She stared at her father with an emotion he couldn’t quite name, though the closest he could get was adoration. Too much sadness lurked in her eyes for the word to fit entirely.
“So the bar is like home to you,” she said after a moment. The word home came out rougher than the rest.
“This bar is more home to me than anywhere else has ever been,” he agreed.
