Page 61 of Kicking Up Dust

“What’s the matter?” I ask, perhaps redundantly.

“I was just about to ask you that, actually. What just happened? Why did you get out of bed? Why are you so… distant all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” The words punch from me, confused and concerned. “No. I just… I thought you’d want space.”

“No?” she says, making it clear she’s just as confused as I am.

“You pulled away.” I try my hardest not to make it sound accusatory.

She nods. “Right… so I could get into a position that would make the whole eating-me-out-thing easier.”

“Oh.” Fuck. “You weren’t… er.” I scratch at my eyebrow with my thumbnail, embarrassed once again. “I thought you might’ve felt some sort of way about the, uh, bisexual bombshell.”

“Oh, Colt,” she’s quick to say, reaching up for me. I sit on the edge of the bed and tug her into my lap. My cum is leaking from her, making her thighs and mine messy. “No, baby,” she says, her hands on my face to make me look at her. “It was a shock, but only because I didn’t know, not because I’m… upset by it or anything else negative.”

“Oh,” I say again, feeling incredibly stupid. Perfect Blair. Of course she wasn’t a bigot. Of course she didn’t hate me and wasn’t disgusted by me. I feel like an asshole for thinking, even for a second, that she was like all the small-minded motherfuckers I’d run into before.

“Oh,” she agrees, and we sound like broken records. “Now… can we get to that whole giving-Blair-an-orgasm thing?”

It makes me laugh, which I have a sneaking suspicion was the point.

“Yeah, baby. Let me make you come.”

THIRTY-TWO

BLAIR

The very idea that I’d made Colt think his sexuality was something I had an issue with gutted me. He’s a grown man, definitely, but at that moment, he’d seemed like a crushed little boy.

I slide off his lap with a grin. Most of his cum had slipped out of me at this point, thanks to gravity, but I still couldn’t get the image of Colt cleaning me up with his tongue out of my mind. It was an incredibly hot mental picture.

“How do you want me?”

“On the edge of the bed,” he replies quickly, eyes alight and no traces of his shame left, thankfully. He slips down to the floor, waiting for me to scoot into position, hitching my legs over his shoulders and making me fall back onto my hands.

“Jesus, you’re impatient,” I grumble as though I’m not equally needy.

“I just had a minor panic attack over the thought of you wanting nothing to do with me,” he jokes, but it breaks my heart a little bit anyway. “Of course I’m excited.”

“Colt—”

“Nope. Pussy now. Talk later.”

I’d argue, but his tongue laps against my thighs, cleaning up the mess there before moving closer to where I need him. He doesn’t start with teasing kisses that purposefully miss their mark like he usually does. Instead, he dives right in, his thumbs holding me open for his tongue to plunge deep. We moan at the same time.

“Still some of me in you,” he says, so quiet I’m not sure I was meant to hear it, but it’s still so strangely hot.

I whimper, snatching a pillow off the bed and shoving it behind my back so I can lie down further, not trusting my arms to keep me up at this rate.

“Oh my god, Colt.” My fingers find his hair as his lips wrap around my clit and two of his fingers slip inside me. I can’t tell if he’s crooking them to find my G-spot or trying to dig more of his cum out, but it’s erotic either way.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Blair,” he chokes out. I watch the muscle of his other arm move and realize he’s jacking himself off while he eats me out.

“If you’re going to come again, I want it inside me,” I barely manage.

He moans, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with his tongue again.

“Let me get you close first,” he mumbles against me.