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He hooks his thumbs in my waistband, and pulls my panties along my trembling legs.
“Fuck I love you all pink and wet, and mine,” he purrs against my center.
My hands tangle into his hair, and I part my legs wider. He spreads my pussy lips with his fingers and flicks his tongue over my clit. “Fuck,” I cry out. The knot inside me starts to unravel.
Sucking my clit into his mouth, he teases me with his tongue as the tingling sensation builds between my legs. I grab his hair tighter between my fingers, and he growls, the vibration hitting my sweet spot. My legs tense, and I almost lose my mind from the way he licks up my juices, moaning and digging his fingers into my waist, sucking hard. He works my clit faster with every stroke. His teeth rasp over the nub, and I explode, crying out his name.
Navarone steadies me before I topple over. He rubs his wet mouth with the back of his hand as he stands. “Fuck, you taste good.”
Trying to catch my breath, I stare at the bulge in his boxers; he is just as turned on as I am, and my stomach growls in response.
“Are you hungry?” He grins, leaning into me and brushing his index finger over my bottom lip.
Focusing on his erection, I swallow hard.
Chuckling, he says, “Dinner it is. You can have my dick for dessert.” He laughs at his own joke.
“Smartass,” I tell him, kissing his chin.
I change into my mom’s black leather pants and smile when Rone shrugs on black skinny jeans and a white button-down shirt. He winks, taking me all in. “We do look the part, don’t we?”
“Which part?” I grin, twirling.
“The best part. Damn, babe,” he growls, hugging me and kissing the tip of my nose before we head out.
I lock the moment in my heart. The way his eyes light up when he looks at me. He isn’t only the love of my life; he is my best friend.
Later that night, we have dinner in a real-life honky-tonk, complete with a mechanical bull in the middle of the bar. After they buy my fake ID, we drink whiskey, and eat tacos and chili fries. We talk and laugh, hanging out like we haven’t spent months apart. We watch people dance to the live band while we eat. Before I know it, it is past midnight.
“Alice,” Rone says, taking my hand in his. “Know what time it is?”
The waitress brings over a tray filled with tequila shots that we proceed to throw back like water. The warmth of the alcohol spreads through my body. I’m getting buzzed and I love the feeling.
“I know. Do you?” I ask, throwing back another shot.
He sucks in a breath. “Happy birthday, honey.” Grabbing the back of my neck, he pulls me toward him and kisses me.
“Eighteen,” he whispers against my lips. “Glad someone is the adult in this relationship.” He waggles his eyebrows, licking the tequila from his lips.
I suck the last of the chili sauce from my fingers, my cheeks heating when he shifts in his seat.
“Wanna dance with me?” he asks, his voice suddenly shy as he holds out his hand.
“Sure. I’ll dance with you.” I say, loving the way he looks at me. I stand and stumble a little, but he catches me and holds me upright.
“I missed you these last months. I never want to let you go again,” he says, holding me close. He sways me to the beat of the music, and I smile when the first lines of one of my favorite songs comes over the speakers: George Strait’s “I Cross My Heart.”
Navarone holds me tighter while we move to the rhythm. I lay my head on his chest and he sighs contentedly. He kisses my hair, and when I look up, something changes in his eyes.
“Are you happy here with me?” he asks, sounding unsure.
I nod, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him while couples dance all around us. My lips touch his, and Rone relaxes. He deepens the kiss. His leg moves between mine and we turn. He hardens against my stomach, and I smile.
Leaning back, he closes his eyes. “Sorry.” He flashes me his devilish lopsided smile.
I reach up and let my fingers skim over his cheekbone to his lips. “Don’t be.” I kiss him again while pulling him against me, loving the way our bodies respond to each other. He makes me feel safe, loved, and sexy. I brush his hair behind his ear. “I love you, Navarone,” I say, holding his gaze.
His eyes go wide and a naughty grin lights up his face. He draws me against him, holding me in his arms as the last chords of the song fade away. “Damn I love you.”
