“Yeah. I’m going to swap out the art tomorrow. Bring in a few other things that used to be at the Sailfish.” She looks up at me, still giving Gator pets. “Is that okay? I want Sal’s memory to have more of a presence.”
“You’re front of house.”
“But are you okay with it?”
“Yeah.” I give the pan of chicken, mushrooms, and Burgundy wine a vigorous swirl. “Sal would like it.”
“Good.” She joins me at the stove, stealing a roasted potato from the pan cooling beside it. Her hand cups my cheek, patting once. “This smells amazing.”
There’s a little color on her face. I let my gaze wander, cataloguing the flush, the freckles. Her eyes remind me of blueberry jam. I’ve gone too long without saying anything, stiff as I resist the urge to knock us both onto the floor so I can devour her. She raises her eyebrows, a breathless giggle hitching in her throat at my stare.
“I called Hazel,” I finally force out. “Got her onboard.”
“Oh, awesome! I can’t wait to meet her.”
“You’ll like her.” I shift my attention back to the stove; it’s that or pulling her flush to my body and sucking on her earlobe. She’s wearing her pearl studs again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be gone so long.”
“Oh, yeah, I helped Ki pick out an outfit for—um, something. Also, she told me—”
“Taste this,” I say abruptly.
She reaches for the tasting spoon I’m holding out, coating the back with sauce and licking in a cute, cautious way that reminds me of a kitten. She makes a noise of pleasure, handing me back the spoon.
“It needs something,” I add.
She goes in for another taste. “Pepper.”
I nod. I wish I could taste it on her tongue. Damn her and her no kissing rule.
“Fix it so we can eat,” she says.
“It can keep.” I barely have the presence of mind to turn off the stove before I yank her into my arms. “This can’t.”
Her laughter sends Gator racing for the relative privacy of thebedroom. I’m aiming for the couch, but she’s wriggling like a fish on a line, so we don’t quite get there. We end up on the floor by the table, tugging off each other’s clothes. I nearly kiss her again, because my self-control is hanging on by a fucking thread, but I manage to bury my face against the crook of her neck instead. I greedily breathe in the warm, female scent of her. I give her neck a lick. She tastes like sweat and rosemary and something sweeter, something uniquely her.
“Jack.” Her fingers catch in my hair. It sends violent shivers down my spine. “Oh—”
I lick one of the rosy tips of her breasts, kneading the other with my hand. She bucks her hips against mine. I hiss at the contact; I’m aching already, balls drawn tight. As I lavish her tits with attention, she squirms, gasping with each new sensation. I drag my mouth lower, swirling my tongue in her belly button, letting my beard scrape over the delicate skin of her inner thighs. She widens her legs at the barest nudge of my hand.
There’s a downy patch of blonde curls at the top of her folds, but otherwise she’s smooth, her skin flushed and wet. I drag my finger down the heated flesh. When I blow gently, she whines, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“I th-thought you wanted to savor it.”
“Oh, I fucking will.” I kiss her thigh, lifting my gaze to trail over the expanse of her body. Her hands keep working through my hair. “No covering up those pretty noises, sweetheart. This comes with conditions.”
“Jack,” she whines.
“If you want to come, I need to hear you.”
I lick her seam from top to bottom. Her foot jerks against my side. I tease her center with my tongue, groaning at her rich, salty taste. The world narrows to a tiny point. All that matters is this, right now. And more than anything, I want to take my time.
At the first touch of my tongue against the swollen bud of her clitoris, she jerks as if shocked. I chuckle against her skin, knowing the vibrations are hitting her core. She jerks, pulls my hair, begs. I tease her until she’s trembling, one minute sucking on her clit, the next ignoring it completely in favor of fucking her with my tongue.My cock, trapped between my body and the wood floor, twitches with each helpless noise that spills from her throat.
“That’s it.” I stroke down her leg as she shakes, right on the edge of coming. I don’t give her the satisfaction, waiting instead until she’s practically pushing her pussy into my face before going back down on her. “That’s my girl. You know what I can give you.”
“Jack please.” Her voice breaks. “Don’t stop, I need more—”
“You taste incredible.” I find her clit again, teasing it with my teeth. I’m lost in her: the heat of her skin, the helpless noises escaping her lips. “Go on and scream, Poppy. Be a good girl and let me hear you.”
