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“All you are succeeding in doing is making me want to drag you down the aisle right fucking now.”
“I’m not stopping you. Besides, marriages, until about a two hundred years ago, were based upon way less than this.”
“That’s true,” he says, shuddering under my touch. I’m still rubbing his thick cock in the middle of the sidewalk in broad daylight. I want him to lose control and come right now because of me.
I want this man more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life. I want to drop to my knees, right here in front of God and all of Baton Rouge, and take his thick length into my mouth and suck him off until he comes down my throat. I won’t even care who sees me servicing my man.
Man, my dirty thoughts are out of control.
ChapterSeven
Kent
How the fuck did I get so lucky? I’m ready to fuck Belle six ways to Sunday. Her little hands on my denim-covered cock is too much. It’s true that I haven’t been with an in a while, but I’m a grown man. Coming in my pants at the mere touch of this girl is unacceptable. I force myself to step back from her. She whimpers, and I want nothing more than to drag her back to my truck, speed away from here, and then tie her to my bed for hours. I lie to myself that hours should be plenty of time to sate us when I know fifty years wouldn’t be enough...
“I’ll see you at seven,” I tell her.
“I can’t wait that long. Pick me up here at five.” I groan. I love the fact that she wants me. Our levels of desperation for the other matches.
“I’ll be here,” I say, chuckling.
“You better be. You got my panties all messy and only you can fix it.”
“Fix what?” I ask, needing her to say the damn words.
“The ache,” she whispers. I step closer to her again; the physical distance between us is too much right now. It truly feels like we are the only two people in the fucking world right now.
“Does your little pussy ache, Belle?”
“Uh-huh,” she says, nodding up and down. Her big blue eyes are pleading with me to do something. I look up and down the street. As much as I want to help her, I can’t do it in broad daylight in the middle of downtown Baton Rouge. I can’t.
“Go get your things and take the rest of the day off,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
“New Orleans?” she asks excitedly. She’s fucking gorgeous. I can’t stop staring at her. I want those thick curves under me. I want to make her scream my name. Over and over again. I want her knocked up and tied to me for life. Longer even.
“Yes. I’ll bring you to work in the morning.” I want her in my space. I want her scent on my sheets, in my house. I don’t think I’ll be able to help her keep her vow, I want her too badly, but she’ll be my wife, so there’s that.
“Okay,” she says, turning around to walk toward the door. She yanks the door open and flits inside.
A few minutes later, she comes back out. Her grin is infectious. Once again, I am struck by her beauty. She stops in front of me and licks her lips. My knees just about buckle at the thought of them wrapped around my hard cock as I fuck her throat, making her choke on me. Damn it. I’ve got to get her alone.
“Ready?”
“Yes. I also scanned and emailed your insurance paperwork to the company, so that’s all good.”
“Thank you,” I say, opening my work truck's passenger door and helping her into it. My hands linger on her hips.
* * *
The hour-ish-long drive home is full of chatter. Her nervous chatter, I imagine. I chuckle as she just keeps talking and talking. I can’t get a word in edgewise, but that’s okay. I like hearing her talk. She’s talking about a sketch she drew of a bathing suit and how proud of it she is. She talks about how she’d be size inclusive with her fashion, and I know my sisters would appreciate something like that.
We arrive at the house. It’s the middle of the day, so we are alone. I start to give her a tour.
“It’s not much, but we make do.”
