Page 29 of Forever After Fall

“Mhmm. My turn.” There’s a devilish smile and then a roll of her hips before she’s on her knees on the bench of the truck, leaning over me as she reaches for my belt.

Oh fuck. I’m a goner if she touches me. I also want her to know I’m very capable of giving without receiving. Just watching her is more than enough for me.

“We should focus on you.”

“We are.” She glances at me before she continues her work of undoing the buckle and sliding the leather free from its notched position. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about touching you again either. You promised me a taste.”

I can’t argue with that.

“Fuck,” I curse as she undoes the button and zipper in rapid order, releasing the pressure that’s been caging my dick. I’m fucking bulging out of the gap she’s created, practically throbbing against the cotton of my boxer briefs. She wrests them down and frees me, licking her lips in anticipation of what she wants.

“God, you look exactly as good as you felt,” she murmurs as she wraps her hand around me, taking one leisurely stroke and teasing the slow roll of a drop of precum out of the head in the process. My heart is pounding out of my chest as she leans over to lap it up, her tongue taking a long, deliberate draw off me like I’m the last droplet of whiskey in her glass, and she needs it.

But she doesn’t stop there. She drops lower, her tongue circling me before her lips wrap around my dick, and she takes one slow bob of her mouth over it. A groan rips out of my chest, and my fingers bite into the frame of the truck’s door as I will myself not to move. When she changes position to take me deeper, I stop her. My hand on her shoulder, willing myself to have the strength to put the focus back on her.

“Bristol.” I manage to groan her name when she lets me go, the slick sounds of her lips sliding off my dick so loud I can barely hear my thoughts anymore.

“Yes?” She looks at me with a narrowed focus, her eyes wide and eager.

“A taste for a taste. You got yours. Now finish yourself off.” I remind her. I refused to get off before her. Her eyes study mine, and I almost think she’ll argue with me.

“What do I get if I do?” she asks playfully, as if I’d deny her anything. I raise a brow in skepticism.

“What do you want?”

“You begging me for mercy.”

“That’s not fair since I can’t return the favor.”

“Then finish with me. Don’t make me do this alone.” She takes my uninjured hand and drags it across my lap until it’s flush with my dick.

Fucking hell. I can’t deny her. I nod my agreement, wrapping my hand around my dick and stroking to satisfy the request. I groan too loudly for my own good and a devilish grin appears on her face. It’s my non-dominant hand, but I’m so close to coming already from watching her, it won’t take much more.

“Finish,” I demand.

She shifts her position, sitting next to me on the bench, her legs spread and her dress bunched up around her thighs so I can watch her. Her thigh brushes mine as she starts to work herself back up again and sends a jolt of awareness through me.

I slow my own pace, keeping watch and taking notes as she works her clit over. I want to know exactly what this woman likes and how she likes it. I’m going to use it for our benefit for the foreseeable future.

Her fingers brush in tighter circles before she slips two inside, and I watch her coat them as she fucks herself. Her wetness drips down slowly onto the bench, leaving a stain between her thighs and the sight of it makes me fucking grin. I hate Chris, but I might need to write him a thank you note for being foolish enough to let her go and giving me the opportunity for this moment.

She whimpers loudly before her stuttered breaths betray her orgasm. The sounds of her coming hard have me following her. I plunge into the depths of it like I’ve jumped off a cliff.

I groan and close my eyes as I use the bandana she wrapped around my hand to soak up the mess I make. When I open them she’s staring at me like I’m the best thing she’s ever seen. So blatant in her regard that I swear I feel my skin catch fire under her watch.

“I can’t wait to make you come like that for me,” she blurts out and the honesty catches me off guard. “That was so hot.”

“Trust me. That was all because of you. You’re fucking gorgeous when you come.” I take her hand and kiss her palm, still glistening in the low light as the sun starts to peek out from behind the clouds. I’d forgotten all about the storm raging outside the truck. She has that effect on me. “I’m going to need at least a hundred more of them.”

THIRTEEN

Bristol

The next night, Anson drops a pin and texts me to meet him there, back to his usual man-of-few-words self. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and if it really was a stranger I was meeting, I’d be sure they were about to murder me. But I trust Anson has a plan. Probably one that doesn’t exactly line up with the outfit I put on tonight.

When I get to the turnoff, it’s a dirt road that leads up to a gate. A truck is already parked next to it, and I can see the silhouette of a man inside. I recognize Anson by his cowboy hat. If he doesn’t have his trusty Briggs Construction baseball cap on, then it’s one of two cowboy hats. Rarely, if ever, does he leave the house without one of them. Which I’m grateful for because I might have otherwise been wondering if my theory about kidnap and murder by a stranger was back on the table as a possibility.

He hops out of the truck and comes to my window as I roll it down.