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I catch sight of Victoria watching me, her eyes glued to my chest. Those browns are now more black since her pupils are blown wide just by looking at me. Her gaze is firmly fixed on my pecs, but after a second, her eyes roam lower to my abs.
“You’re made like a doll. Except it’s a male doll. A male model?”
“That’s actually my side hustle. How did you know?” I can’t resist. I slowly pivot and give her just the smallest amount of a gun show, flexing and popping muscles I’m proud of. Our home gym is a nice place to blow off steam, but it has its added perks. Namely, this moment right here. “You’re looking at Banging Hammers Home Builders Banging Bodies Magazine’s Mr. September right here.”
“You are not! And that’s not really a thing. Oh my gosh, is that really a thing?”
“No, it’s not a thing.”
“I thought not, but that’s too bad. You could make a living off those abs.”
“In a quarter bouncing challenge?”
“No!” She breaks into a fit of giggles that make me feel warm all over, even if this isn’t the typical time to get all melty on the inside from hearing someone laugh. “From all the other ways people normally make good money off their bodies. And I’m not talking about sleazy web pages or social media deals. I was thinking more like health and fitness. Although, you’d fill out a tool bet quite well.”
“Just a tool belt?”
She sighs and bats her eyelashes dreamily. “I think that’s my new favorite fantasy.”
“Since I didn’t bring one, I’m going to help you fill in the gaps on another fantasy instead. The field of wildflowers fantasy commences in three, two, one…right now.”
I reach down and grasp Victoria’s hand, pulling her to a sitting position. She’s wearing a plain T-shirt, one that she wasn’t afraid to get dirty as we did our planting, and I help her wriggle out of it. Her breasts are perfect—perfect creamy globes contained by a plain white cotton bra that is totally freaking sexy. As I watch, she unclasps it in the middle, giggles, then peels it off and flings it up over our heads. It goes sailing into the air and drops down a few feet away. I barely notice, obviously, because, hello, breasts. Her boobs are perfect. Enough for a handful with beaded nipples begging for me to take them in my mouth and suckle them.
I have that on my brain, but Victoria distracts me by undoing her jeans. She throws herself back against the ground and shimmies out of them, throwing them to the side as well. I gape at her while my cock practically roars in my jeans, eager for me to set him free. She’s almost naked except for a pair of bright orange panties with little purple bats. I grin when I see them, and she immediately glances down, then blushes fiercely.
“Oh,” she whispers. “I bought this set for Halloween last year, and I really like them. They fit well, and they’re super comfortable. They’re pretty much a staple of my wardrobe, even if it’s not October.”
“They’re cute. I like them.”
“Do you?”
“Mhmm, but I’d like them better off you at the moment.”
She giggles, a little nervous. “Alright.” She hooks her fingers in the waistband and pulls them down slowly. She’s still sitting, so she has to wriggle out of them, but it’s the sexiest little kind of dance I’ve ever seen. She smiles at me shyly as she drops her panties to the side, then arches a brow. “What about you?”
“All in due time. I have something I want to do first.”
She looks confused until I get on my knees and lean forward, hooking my hands behind her legs to drape them over my shoulders and bare her to me. I let out a growl that is more animal than it is an actual person when I drag the sweet scent of her into my lungs. She’s wet, beads of moisture clinging to her sex and rolling down her thighs prettily for me. And me? I’ve been planting gardens for the past few hours. I’m absolutely famished.
I lick my lips first, just to let her know how hungry I am, before I lick her like she’s my prize. I sweep my tongue over every inch of her, exploring and tasting her from her clit all the way down to her entrance, licking every delicious drop from her. Her hips buck up into my face, and she gasps before her hands fall to the side and starts ripping up grass and stems as she tries to hold on.
“That’s right,” I mutter wickedly. “Hold on tight. You’re going to need something to hold onto while I send you to the stars, Victoria.” I love saying her name as I worship her between her legs.
