He stabs out his cigarette and jerks his head. “Get inside, baby.”
I could go…or I could make him work for it. I turn, shaking my hair back, and take a step. He gives me a behave-or-else look, but his eyes are glittering. This is something new and addicting. Leland never teased me, he never played with me. Everything was so damn serious all the time. Just real fucking grim.
I take another step.
He comes down the stairs. Then, he takes a quick step at me. I whirl and take off running, but he’s faster than I anticipated. I get less than ten steps before his arm wraps around my waist. Cradling me, he drops us to the grass. Our eyes meet, and a thrill goes up my spine, then down again, centering right where I want his tongue.
I’ve never wanted anything the way I want him. It’s pure, like a deep mountain spring bubbling up. All I want to do is roll around with him until we’re both spent. Eat, drink, sleep it off, then do it all over again for days. Maybe weeks.
He kisses me, and he tastes like coffee, smells a tiny bit like tobacco. Maybe it’s being naked out in the sun like this, but I swear, I feel everything more clearly than I’ve ever felt. The grass against my back and thighs. The warm weight of his body. The rough calluses of his hands on my wrists, the side of my face.
He pulls back. “You’re a handful.”
“I think your hands are big enough.”
Instead of answering, he grips my waist and flips me as he rolls onto his back. I reel, but he keeps me steady, lifting me and setting me down, my knees on either side of his face. His eyes flash, pale blue. Then, he disappears between my thighs, and his tongue is hoton my clit. The muscles of my hips tighten, rising. My head falls back, only blue overhead.
His mustache rasps against my skin as he presses soft kisses to my pussy. His jaw is stubbled, prickly against my inner thighs.
“Relax, baby,” he says, muffled.
I sway, unsure where to put my hands. One of them goes in his hair, but that doesn’t seem right, so I brace it behind my back. Overhead, the pale sky is a clear arch. A breeze picks up, and it’s sweet like hay. His tongue drags over my sex, dipping inside before moving to my clit. Then, he sucks it between his teeth and starts flicking it with his tongue.
“Oh, fuck!” My spine jerks back.
His fingers dig into my thighs, holding me still. He’s stronger than I anticipated, even after last night. And he’s merciless, keeping my clit barely balanced between his teeth and the suction of his mouth as he flicks it. There’s pain, pleasure, and suffocating overstimulation, but he knows what he’s doing, because I come out of nowhere, a wave of pleasure like falling into clear water.
My thighs give out, my weight sinking onto his face. He groans, slapping my ass as I come down. I’m shaking so hard, he notices and has mercy on me, lifting me onto his chest.
His eyes glitter. “What were you saying about me not being able to make you come yesterday?”
I’m too flushed to answer. It’s not the pleasure that has me shaken. It’s the crumbling of my own understanding of myself. I thought my body was just quiet, that I felt desire but didn’t enjoy the acts it led to or the participation of another person.
I cried over my body refusing to respond to Leland and his lack of interest in doing anything to fix it. It turns out, none of that was my fault. I think I never felt safe enough to relax in his hands.
Jensen was supposed to be my savior.
But he might be my awakening too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JENSEN
I think I’m falling in love.
The last nineteen years have been a tough existence. My little sparks of light came from fighting, working, and my handful of friends. But every night was the same thing: adark ceiling and an empty room. On weekends, a body I didn’t know and some liquor to get me through the night.
Then, I saw her in the stockyards.
Then, I touched her in my bed.
And it was like tasting a drug on the edges of my mouth for the first time. I keep pushing my face further in, trying to get more of it, trying to sink my teeth into whatever is so addicting about this woman.
It might be her body with her soft little curves, her lean legs that wrapped around my waist last night while I pounded into her pussy. It might be her startling eyes surrounded by thick lashes that remind me of something. Or the faint freckles I bit and licked on her tanned thighs, all the way to the naked pussy between her legs. She’s so fucking good, all cinnamon and honey laced with something that’s got a hell of a kick to it.
It might be the way she talks, all soft and drawling.
Or the way she has these quick, biting responses that keep me on my toes.
