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Bennett
Caroline’smorethanIexpected, and Roarke’s right, this isn’t about drinks, but showing her how I, or we can care for her.
“Let’s move this somewhere we won’t end up getting broken glass in uncomfortable places,” I say.
Caroline glances to her side surprisingly fast. She rights a couple of photos then hops off. “Nothing’s broken.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” Roarke leads her to an oversized chair, but there’s something deeper in his tone. Is he as swept away by Caroline as I am? Is he implying he’s going to keep something bigger from breaking, like our bond? Like our hearts?
This is all happening so fast, we haven’t talked, but it’s like we don’t need to.
I circle to stand in front of her and tuck my fingers into the waistband of her shorts. “Mind if I get these out of the way?”
Her eyes flutter shut, which would seem like a good sign, but her hands clasp over mine.
“Maybe I should do this?” she says.
I laugh and kneel. “You want to deprive me of the experience?”
She grimaces. “It would be the experience of seeing the underwear I put on when I thought I was spending the evening alone. That’s one you should be willing to miss.”
“I’m seconds away from having you completely naked, waiting for an orgasm, and you think I care what your underwear looks like?” I tug and she relents, letting me drop her shorts. The funny thing is that I was going to strip her in one fell swoop but now I want to see her panties.
As she steps out of her shorts, her fingers are in the waistband of her panties, and she shucks them down quickly, but not before I see the holes at the edge of the elastic. I didn’t mean to embarrass her, I just thought they were going to be the girl version of tighty whities, which would be fucking hot on her. I stroke her thighs and look up. “You’re the most gorgeous sight I’ve ever set eyes on.”
The slow drag of her fingers through my hair confirms that I’ve gotten her past any worry over panties.
Roarke is a different issue. He’s behind her, has snatched her panties, and stuck them in his pocket. I should have thought of that.
He turns her, sits her on the oversized chair, and kneels between her legs. Damn. He’s outplaying me. Just like in the hospital, he’s a force to be reckoned with, which is why I admire him.
He pulls her ass to the edge, brushes his fingers over her ginger curls, then turns to me, “You just going to stare, or are you going to take part?”
Fuck him. I slide a hand over her thigh, not bothering to shift my gaze away from her pussy. We just got started and she’s already wet. Her pussy lips part with how far he has her legs spread. Those sweet pink bits are begging for a cock. Why the fuck is she going for guys so much older than herself? After all of her sassiness at the diner, I’m in a weird limbo for her, and I can’t risk ruiningour thingwith questions.
Roarke draws his hand back and runs his glistening finger over his lips. “I’m eating this sweet pussy, but look at those gorgeous little nipples, Bennett. She likes to have them played with. And those lips…” He nods upward. “you’ll just have to kiss her to find out how good they are.”
Hot tip? Interesting. I’m turned on by his command of the situation. It’s in his core to dominate, to lead.
Cupping her chin, I drag my thumb over her lips and put enough pressure that the lower one catches on my touch, wetting my finger. Like an angel, she works the tip of it with her tongue. Promises, promises. Angling my digit inward, I give her something to suck on. I want to show her that I’m not just Roarke’s pawn. I’ve got my own ideas of what to do.
The suction on my finger makes my cock twitch. “You like sucking on things, Sugar?”
She moans—perfect answer. If it’s weird that I used the nickname her friend gave her, she doesn’t let on. Plus, I’ve realized that while she’s not the sugary sweet type, she is the sweetest thing I’ve ever fallen for.
Fuck, am I falling? I’m scheduling my meals for her shift at the diner, buying her shoes, and praying that this is more than a fun night of drinks for her…yeah, I’m falling.
Roarke smirks then lowers his face to her pussy, unapologetically licking, slurping, and groaning with his own pleasure.
Her suction on my thumb breaks, giving way to panting. I study the bliss spelled out on her face. “You like the way that feels?”
She mumbles what sounds like agreement.
Not willing to be left out of blowing her mind, I massage one of her breasts then roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She shivers as it beads even harder and her skin prickles in goosebumps. “You do like having your titties played with, don’t you?”
Her eyes are shut, and moans occupy her verbalizing, but she nods.
Leaning forward, I do what Roarke said, kiss her. I would have anyway, but he’s right, there’s no way to explain how her plump lips can be so demanding. Our tongues explore, we’re in sync. It’s so perfect, like we’re already lovers. Is that what Roarke felt? Is it possible for her to be right for both of us?
