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“So, wanna eat lunch with us?” Billy asked. “Or would you rather keep eating my brother’s face?”
Her indelicate sniff cut off Sam’s retort. “Depends what you have.”
“Half a roast beef and grape soda, going once.”
“Sold.” She grinned and shifted toward Sam. “It’ll work up my appetite to eat more of you later,” she said in a stage whisper. Her face blanched as the guys hooted with laughter. “Ah, erm, I meant—”
“We’ll just leave it that,” Sam said, closing her smiling lips with his finger.
While they ate, she regaled them with stories about her job and the weird requests she’d dealt with over the years. The funniest one was the billboard for the woman looking to be kept by a rich sugar daddy who’d had to pull her ad after a week because she got too many offers. Last Rory had heard from the woman she was moving to Venezuela with a guy old enough to be her great-grandfather.
She never mentioned that she’d met Sam through the billboards he wrote for Dani, instead making it seem as if they’d discussed possibly doing one for the shop. Billy narrowed his eyes at that but he didn’t say anything. Better than anyone, his brother knew how he squeezed his pennies, especially when it came to advertising. In this case, an implausible lie was better than explaining the truth. He couldn’t handle the questions that would come after.
You’re writing billboards to a dead woman who didn’t want you even when she was alive? Now you’re falling for the woman who took the orders?
Yeah, so it sounded pretty fucked up.
After Billy had shared his daughters’ latest victories on their training bikes, Rory glanced at her watch and sighed. “Duty calls.”
“We’ll just go do…something,” Billy decided, tugging Shep with him though the younger man protested. “And we’ll just shut this door,” he added with a grin, pulling it closed behind them.
Rory shook her head and set down her soda. “They’re such boys. Assuming we’re going to use every opportunity to—”
He grabbed the back of her chair, grateful for the casters that made it easy to yank her closer. His mouth was on hers before she’d finished the statement. Except this time they were both laughing before his tongue even made it between her lips.
“I believe strongly in saving the trees,” she said soberly, drawing back so that her breath whispered over his raw mouth. They’d attacked each other like savages before—okay, that was more him than her—and his lips felt abused in the best way. She closed her nimble fingers around his length and made that seductive purring noise he couldn’t get enough of. “Though this one’s been pruned substantially since the last time I…”
“Rubbed all over it?” He grinned and flipped her hair back from her forehead.
“Don’t insult the tree huggers.” Her alluring pout so completely took his focus he almost didn’t realize she was inching down his zipper. “Or tree lickers,” she continued, dropping to the floor between his knees.
He tried to speak as she drew his waking cock free of his boxers and kissed the tip, her pursed lips blowing a light, teasing stream of air over his aroused flesh. He should stop her. He needed to stop her. “Ah, fuck. Slow. We’re going slow.”
“I will,” she promised, flicking her tongue over the crown. She gripped his length in both hands like a microphone, her vised fists working in tandem with the serpentine licks that destroyed the pathetic protests he hadn’t managed to voice.
It shouldn’t be like this. Her crouching in pristine gray trousers in the dingy backroom of his shop, her cheeks red with arousal and her swollen lips so ripe as they slid up and down his erection. He had one now, no doubt about it. She’d prodded him awake in an instant, her knowing hands and mouth giving him a gift that didn’t require repayment. She was sharing something perfect with him even while the guys shouted and made a hell of a lot of noise on the other side of the door. Then they cranked up “Start Me Up” by the Stones and he choked out a laugh while he gripped the edge of the table.
“Nice touch,” she murmured, drawing back to chase the string of pre-cum slipping down his dick.
Her breasts swelled against her sweater when she moved, their rounded tips a cotton-candy distraction. He wanted to see them bare. Pressed flush against his chest while she bounced on him, those wicked eyes spurring him to new heights. And shit, just thinking that caused another thin stream of fluid to trickle toward her waiting tongue.
“Mmm, I’m started too,” she said, cocking her head as the guys turned the music up. Before he could question
her further, she rocked backward and fumbled her hand into the gap between her pants and her smooth, white belly. The fabric rippled while she dove down, coming up victorious with shiny fingers.
“Fuck,” he muttered, snatching her wrist and taking them between his lips. He sucked on her and closed his eyes against the expression of bliss that flittered over her face. Watching her and not coming wasn’t possible. So he absorbed her warm, sugary taste and breathed in the scent of their mingled arousal while she took him back inside her mouth.
“Jesus!” He yelped and bolted upright in his chair as bubbles exploded over the head of his cock and dripped down the sides, setting off mini-flares of heat.
“Shouldn’t ever close your eyes on a woman,” she said, her voice husky with amusement and sex.
Taking her at her word, he watched as she reached for her soda again and swallowed, letting him see her throat move before she came back and dribbled some over his cock. Even prepared, the flutters from the carbonation still elicited more curses. Especially when she carefully cleaned up every streak of purple until he gleamed in the light from the single bulb on the ceiling.
“Just one,” she murmured, her hands moving faster. His cock was harder than the table he held in a rigid grasp. His balls clenched and full, his stomach taut with the groans he wasn’t about to let out while his crew worked a few feet away, music or no music. “Make one sound so I know if it’s good for you.”
“Good?” He grated, hating to waste even a single breath on speaking when he needed all of them to keep from losing his load all over her swollen mouth. “Try fan-fucking-tastic. Try incred-amazing.” He leaned forward and buried his free hand in her hair, guiding her back to his twitching erection. He ached without her on him. Surrounding him in her wet heat. “Try—Jesus, Rory, much more and I’m gonna come.”
Her eyes blazing with excitement, she swallowed him again. Her cheeks hollowed with the force of her pulls as she took as much of him inside her throat as she could manage. That he didn’t fit all the way only turned him on more. There was something so erotic about such a small, feminine woman bringing a man to his knees while she was on hers. So primitive and primal.
