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She buried her hand in the little hair that I had on top of my head and yanked my head down to hers.
I kissed her hard and swift, loving the way that she tasted.
“You feel like mine,” I told her.
“You feel like mine, too,” she breathed.
The sensation changed, became more intense.
And my eyes crossed.
God.
If I’d thought she felt hot before? Now she felt like everything.
The hotness factor went up tenfold as her pussy started to ripple around my cock.
And God, was she so slick and hot.
Before I could so much as pull out, she was coming, and I had no choice but to follow right along.
Even though I knew that the sensations were feeling wayyyy too good.
The condom had broken.
Again.
I cursed and pulled out, hoping that I could come on her pussy and not inside of her.
But she cried out and took her hand to herself, working out the last dregs of her orgasm.
I could feel her run her fingers through her slickness, then shove her fingers past my cock and into her gaping pussy. Giving herself the sensation that she needed to wring her orgasm out to the fullest.
Which only caused me to come more.
I’d come on her hand, and she’d use the lubrication to shove her fingers back inside of herself until she’d gotten every last drop out of it that she could—out of both me and her orgasm.
When she was finished, she laid her head back against the truck and looked at me.
“The condom broke again,” she whispered, finally understanding.
I laughed and moved forward so that my mouth was over hers. Then pulled back far enough to say, “Yeah. I need to make a store run. Or you need to get on birth control.”
The idea of having something between us sounded like hell.
But I’d endure it if that meant that I got to have her again.
Her being on birth control sounded a hell of a lot better, though.
“Yeah,” she whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth. Then she sucked one finger into it and sucked it clean.
I growled as I felt my cock twitch against her.
It took everything I had not to slip it right back inside.
Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
The floodlight came on again, then Delanie was at the door.
“Hey, your alarm company is calling! They said that there was another glass break sensor that went off!” Delanie called out.
Dillan cursed.
“I’ll go check it out,” I said. “What’s the code to turn the alarm off? And do you have an extra key?”
She nodded her head as I dropped her to the ground.
“You can take my keys that are on my key ring,” she said. “I have an extra set in the house.”
Seconds later, I was kissing her hard and leaving her there in her driveway to watch me drive away.
In the meantime, it felt like I’d left my heart behind, and I couldn’t figure out whether that was a good or a bad thing.Chapter 9
Dogs make me happy. People? Not so much.
-Delanie to Dillan
Dillan
I was knee deep into changing my business hours, working out new hours with my kitchen staff, and listening to Delanie bitch.
When I’d said that she was stubborn last week, I’d been kidding myself. She wasn’t just stubborn. She was obstinate, bull-headed, and annoying.
I loved her to death and all, but Jesus. She really needed to deal with shit or let it go.
Finally having enough of her ranting and raving, I placed my pencil down carefully, then turned my entire body to face her.
She was talking to me, while also sitting on the kitchen floor with a dog in her lap. She was steadily petting his head, crooning as she spoke. Which only annoyed me more.
I mean, I knew why she was doing it. She was trying to keep her voice uplifting and positive as to not spook the very skittish dog in her lap—he’d been brought here the night before as a rescue who’d previously been a service dog but, sadly, had been given to new owners after his old owner’s death and had been mistreated.
“Of course, you’re going to go,” I said firmly.
Delanie rolled her eyes. “I’m not. I just got back after being gone for a week. Then I was gone for a week before that. I haven’t worked with the dogs in over two of those. I miss my baby. And I’ve put a lot of strain on Booth. Not to mention you’ve practically had to work two jobs while I’ve been away.”
True.
I had.
I’d worked at my shop from three in the morning until eleven. I’d gone home and worked her dogs, which took at least three more hours. Spending an hour with each dog. Then I cleaned their kennels, forced something down my tired throat, and had gone to bed only to get up and do it all over again.
