Page 62 of Dumped for a Christmas Tree Farmer

“I’m pretty sure most of them know already. Your pining face is not very subtle.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I’ve never jerked off so much in life. Christ, Indy, I thought I was gonna get blisters.”

“Poor baby. Do you want me to make you feel better?”

A low growl forms in his throat. “Yes, I want you to make me feel better.”

He steps into my space, and I take a step back toward the bathroom, a smirk pulling at my lips, his eyes darkening. He’s done playing games.

He reaches out, pulling me to him by the back of my neck, his lips crushing against mine until he’s all teeth and tongue and, in a word, violent. Nothing is soft, certainly not the hard press of his erection against my stomach, certainly not the grip of his fingers tugging at my nape. He pulls my blouse apart, the buttons flying as he bites down on my bottom lip. I shimmy out of my skirt before he rips that apart too, before I wrench my fingers back to the broad expanse of his chest, the hard ridges along his stomach. He’s perfect, so goddamn perfect.

We tumble into the shower, our naked bodies writhing against each other, the heat radiating off him. He turns the shower on, spraying us both with ice-cold water before the hot water pulls through.

His lips devour mine as his hands roam over my skin as eagerly as the water flowing down between my breasts.

“Get clean,” I murmur. “I have plans for you.”

His eyebrow arches in a mix of curiosity and suspicion as I trail my fingertips over his length.

I grab the rose-scented body wash and recognize it immediately. “Hey, we have the same body wash!”

“Indigo,” he huffs with an exhausted look. “I bought that the day you moved in. I knew you’d be in here eventually, and besides, it’s been helping me alleviate some of my stress whilst you’ve been boycotting me.”

“What are you even talk—oh.” He squeezes a generous handful out into his hand and rubs the base of his cock with it. “Oh my God, why is that so hot?”

“It’s hot because now you know I’ve been using your scent to get myself off every morning. Smothering myself in you just so I can have a moment's peace before it starts all over again.”

My lips quirk, and I bite down the urge to laugh and how much pain this man has been in for the last six weeks.

“I’m going to make you feel better, okay?” I wrap my fingers around his cock and his eyes close, a huff of breath leaving his lips instantly. “I’m going to make you feel so good, and sometimes, Maverick, good things come to those who wait. So rinse off.”

“Please tell me this is going where I think it is, Indigo?” His voice is breathy, his chest rising and falling as if his adrenaline is swirling around his body. His hands roam his chest, his stomach, until they slip down the perfect V and he grips the base of his cock, the water washing away the soap suds.

I slip to my knees, and a groan reverberates from his chest. His fingers cup my cheek as I stick out my tongue for him.

“God, you’re so perfect.” He slides the tip of his cock over my tongue as I snake my hand between his legs, cupping his balls before reaching my finger back toward his tight hole.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mav

I’m not some fragile debutante, but when Indy slides her finger over my asshole, I damn near clench my cheeks together like a nun kneeling down to take a sacrament. But it’s not me kneeling, it’s Indy, and she looks so damn good from this angle. So eager, so playful.

“You look like a goddamn angel.” I rub my thumb along her cheek before pushing my fingers through her hair.

“Don’t be gentle. I can take it,” she murmurs before taking me in her mouth fully. She’s halfway down, and the slide of her tongue as I reach the back of her throat makes me feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven. With one hand, she’s gripping the bottom of my shaft; with the other, she’s pressing my ass like a button she wants to tease. And just this image, just her on her knees before me, is utterly incomparable to any experience I’ve had in my life.

If you’d told me this morning I’d be thrusting my cock into Indy’s hot, wet mouth, I’d have laughed in your face. If you’d told Indy the same thing, she'd have told you we’re waiting the year out, and I can sort myself out. But here she is, sucking down on my cock like she owns it. And honestly, she does. The swirl of her tongue has me growling. I’m holding back. I don’t want to hurt her, but God, she looks so pretty when she’s a mess.

She pops her lips off me. “I told you not to be gentle. Fuck my mouth, Mav.”

Christ, I love this side of her. So open about sex, so free to explore her fantasies unencumbered. I have six weeks to make up for; plans begin to formulate in my mind as she rolls her tongue around my head.

I push my cock back into her, thrusting hard until I feel her gagging against me. Tears spring to her eyes and slip down the corners, her mascara running in long black streaks.

“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

“Hmph,” she replies.