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Gibson stayed obediently silent, but his eyes moved downward. He knew.
But not everything. She grabbed back control. “I may have been compromised by a toy the whole time we’ve been out here.”
His lips parted. “Oh, fuck. You’ve been getting off while I work? You’re literally going to kill me.”
She smiled. “Maybe I’ll show it to you if you’re good.”
His cock glistened at the tip, pre-come joining the party and naked hunger crossing his face. God, she loved how turned on he got at even the thought of playing. “I’m all yours, Sam. Just tell me what you want. Let me touch you. Let me see what you’re doing to yourself.”
She let her eyes travel over him, eating up the view. All those cut muscles, shiny with sweat and flushed with excitement. The open jeans. The V of his pelvis. He was sex on a Southern stick. And she was pent-up. She would never last for what she had planned. “I’ll make you a deal.”
His brow arched.
She pulled the small remote from beneath her thigh. “I’ll let you have control of this. And I’ll lift my dress so you can watch me come.”
“Fuck yes.”
She raised a finger. “But when I’m done, I get to use the same toy on you.”
Gibson flashed teeth, thinking he’d gotten an easy deal. “Agreed.”
She let him lower his arms from behind his head and handed him the remote. Then, she moved her legs from beneath her and slowly lifted up her dress.
Gib’s attention was locked on her, but when she revealed what was beneath, his eyes went wide. “Oh, shit.”
She laughed, victorious. He’d been expecting a vibrator. And he was half right. The device had a vibrating portion that went inside her, pressing against her G-spot. But the piece de resistance was the impressively sized strap-on that jutted out from between her thighs in all its glory. That part vibrated, too, and the base was giving her clit a wicked little massage.
“What do you think?” she asked, teasing him a bit, expecting him to back out of the deal. She’d used dildos and plugs on him before now, but she’d been working up to this. She’d seen his face that day in the adult store. He hadn’t been ready then.
He was ready now.
Gibson laughed, a nervous edge to it. “I’m a little terrified. It’s . . . impressively sized. But I’m not going to lie. You look fucking hot. Will you spread your legs for me? Let me see what it’s doing to you.”
The genuine desire in his voice pushed all her buttons. She slowly spread her legs and stroked the rubber cock like she owned it, giving him a little show. She had no idea how men walked around with these things all the time—seemed cumbersome—but right now she was kind of enjoying the role reversal. She barely resisted the urge to strut.
Gibson groaned. “Jesus, I don’t know why that’s so sexy, but you’ve got my full attention, mistress.”
Lord. How did she get so damn lucky? It had taken a lot for Gibson to get over that wall of shame, but, man, had he hit the ground sprinting once he reached the other side. She could see new kinky doors opening up all around him each day. This man was all in. He loved it. And she loved him. No more worrying about her desires being too far off the reservation. She’d found her match. She leaned back in the chair, the power humming through her veins, and grabbed the base of the strap-on. “Get on your knees and suck my dick, Gib. Do it while you make me come.”
Gibson didn’t hesitate, didn’t balk. Fire flared in his eyes, and he grabbed his cock and squeezed the root like he was having trouble keeping his desire in check. It didn’t matter that they were outside on her porch. It didn’t matter that he was straight and had never given head before. If his mistress asked him to do something, he was going to do it with enthusiasm and enjoy it. He got to his knees and lowered his mouth onto the toy. Just seeing him wrap his lips around it did something to her. Amped her up about a thousand percent. Fuck, he was sexy.
He lifted that blue-eyed gaze to hers, sucked her like he meant it, and dialed up the knob on that little remote.
She groaned and rocked her hips toward him, riding the vibrator and giving him a show as he pushed her higher and higher toward release. It was quick and fierce, and before she had time to catch her breath, she was shoving Gibson away and getting to her feet, the dildo sticking out like a never-ending hard-on under her dress.
The sight made her giggle, and Gibson snorted. “Just happy to see me, I presume?”
She grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. “Shut up, boy. Bend over the railing and pull your jeans down. I need to be inside you. Now.”
“Here?” Gibson shuddered under her touch, unease surfacing. But when she confirmed that it was what she wanted, he followed her commands. He tugged his jeans down and braced himself on the railing. Naked and open under the sunshine. Giving her everything, trusting her completely. She grabbed the lubricant she’d hidden behind a potted thyme plant, but when she stood behind Gibson again, her eye caught sight of something on the railing.
She stilled for a second, her breath catching. On the railing next to Gib’s right elbow was a worn message she’d etched into the wood when she was a kid. Her grandmother had given her leave to do it because she’d planned to have the railing replaced. But her grandmother had passed a month later. The railing remained. Sam didn’t.
Samantha was here. And a smiley face. That was the grand message of an eight-year-old.
Samantha was here.
And then she wasn’t. And that smile had left for a long damn time.
