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I scowled at him. “No, Nora made it, so don’t worry. It’s all safe to consume.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Why did you come, babe?”
I’d bristled at the endearment a bunch of times before, but now I didn’t even question it—though I knew in the depths of my mind I should’ve, boundaries and all that—because now we’d fucked, and his casual touches and endearments meant something.
“Because I want the town to think I’m doing a great job at being a wife,” I said sweetly.
He kept a firm hold of my belt loop. I liked it. It was intimate and possessive.
Wait, didn’t I hate possessive men?
“The town knows you plenty well, and they know you’re not the kind of wife to bring her husband a packed lunch,” he said.
That was fair.
“Okay, I’m not here to bring you lunch,” I admitted. “I’m here to get fucked in your truck.” I nodded to the truck, parked off to the side, closer to the woods the house was bordering.
Kip’s expression turned hungry, and he yanked me closer to him so our mouths were inches apart.
My body responded to his warmth against mine, his scent. “I cannot fuck my wife in my fucking truck on my lunch break, with a bunch of men a stone’s throw away,” he murmured against my lips. “As much as I want to.”
I smiled at him. “Well, I’m not really your wife, remember?” I whispered. “I’m just some woman you live with who you happen to be fucking. And if you want to be a stickler about the wife thing, it’s your husbandly duty to take care of me in all ways I need.” I leaned in to place my lips against his. “And I need you to fuck me in that truck, with a bunch of men a stone’s throw away.”
Kip let out a low growl. “Fuck, woman, you’re gonna drain the life outta me.”
I grinned. “Not until I get a Green Card out of you.” I winked and then sauntered in the direction of his truck, swinging my hips, already wet and ready.
* * *
“If any fucking man sees you like this, I’m gonna have to kill them,” Kip grunted as I rode his cock with abandon.
The cords in his neck were sculpted from marble, his hands on my hips, finger pads pressing into bone.
He’d yanked the straps on my dress off my shoulders to expose my breasts. My dress was bunched at my hips, and the seat of Kip’s truck was pushed back to make us a little less visible from the outside.
The way the site was structured meant we were mostly out of the way of anyone who was working, but if someone decided to go for a stroll or get something from their car, we’d be easily seen.
That only served to make me wetter and my oncoming orgasm more intense.
I grinned at him. “You’re really gonna kill a man just ’cause he caught a glimpse of my tits?” I teased.
Kip grabbed the back of my neck and exerted pressure on my hip to stop me moving, his face turning stormy and dangerous.
My body prickled with unease and even more desire. Kip had switched to dangerous badass mode, and I was all about it. In a big way.
“I’ll kill a man if he sees my wife’s face, flushed and fucking magnificent, while she’s full of my cock and minutes away from climax,” he growled, his grip at my neck bordering on painful. “I won’t let any fucker walk around with that image. So you best make sure we’re not seen.”
As adverse as I was to taking orders, especially ones that were not at all in my control, I liked that one. Liked the intensity with which he spoke. And some fucked-up part of me fucking loved that just by fucking Kip in his truck, I had some perverse power.
“Well, you gonna let me ride you so I can come before someone sees?” I asked breathlessly.
He growled low in his throat and yanked our mouths together, nipping my lip so I tasted blood.
“Christ, woman, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he rasped.
I grinned at him as he released me so I could ride him once more. “But what a beautiful death it would be.”
Four Months Later
