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Based on the prominent erection currently bruising my pelvic bone, I’m damn sure he is.
We make out like horny teenagers right there in the darkness with nothing but the stars overhead serving witness, but it’s not enough. Granted, he tastes like bourbon and heat, just like I need him to, and clearly he’s as eager for some relief as I am. I think that’s a valid assumption considering that our tongues were just tangling, even suckling one another’s and now he’s drawing my bottom lip between his teeth.
“Ohhh…” I moan out, and it’s louder than I meant it to be. But who gives a shit? I need this. I’ve beendyingfor this.
So, in response, I cup his cock over his high-end jeans. And wow, that’s quite a cock in there. I draw my hand up and down his length and have a difficult time believing him to be this big. And long. And now my yearning for him is worse than ever.
Dammit. I’m literally quaking for him to be inside me.
“Come on…” I yank him away from the wall as rudely as I pushed him against it, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but that he does as I say.
“Where?”
“Home. My house.” It’s fortunate that I live right behind my restaurant on the opposite side of the same block. If we had to drive several miles away I’d probably screw him right there in his truck. Or maybe give him some road head.
It’s an interesting idea even if it wouldn’t provide me with the release I’m so desperate for.
I’m fumbling with my keys—thank everything on this plane of existence that my chef’s uniform has deep pockets—when he asks, “Um… I do have condoms… Are you sure about this, Violet?”
This pulls me up short. He has condoms?
“Wait…” I know I should be upset by this, but my head is kind of fuzzy. “Why? Were you planning to go out and find a hookup tonight? Attach yourself to some other chick after eating dinner?”
“No, Vi. Not at all. I just believe in being prepared. I always carry protection. Have for years now. Even when I’m with someone.”
And by someone he likely means Mindy Schouten, his most recent fling. The name pings through my head like an overinflated dodge ball. Mindy works as a loan officer in Ochre Springs, six miles down the road. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve looked her up online. That’s how I know.
I lose my train of thought as I gaze over at him. Here in the light of my porch, he’s probably the hottest man I’ve ever seen. The glint of his dark blond hair and eyes I know to be a deep cobalt seem lighter, almost jewel-like. Landon Walcott takes my breath away. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought that. Nor is it likely to be the last. He’s my kryptonite. My secret addiction. I’d like to touch him all over and have him return the favor.
Immediately.
But then he asks me something I don’t catch. I’m too busy watching his full lips move.
“What?”
“What about you? Have any information you care to share with me?”
For three entire heartbeats I have no clue to what he’s referring. Then, my brain synapses fire again. “Oh, me? Yeah, saw my gyno recently. I’m all good.”
“Excellent.” Apparently tired of my failure to open a door I’ve opened every day since moving here two years ago, he wrests the keys from my grip and pops the lock like some sort of magician.
Or, you know, locksmith.
“Nimble fingers…” I blab, saying out loud what I should be thinking instead. “Wanna try them out on me?”
“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”
What transpires next goes down in an impassioned frenzy. He somehow has my uniform unbuttoned and flying off of me within mere instants, and anxious to see what’s under his clothes, I tear at them like a rabid she wolf. Once I finally manage to peel his button-down off his shoulders I pause for long enough to stare. This man is exquisite. All leanly muscled torso with thick pecks and a visible six-pack cut into his abs.
Although his arms appear defined even when covered, now that they’re revealed I detect ropey strength built into those biceps and triceps as they flex to make my chest as bare as his. Chilly air makes my nipples come alive, and as my plain beige bra slides off my arms, moist warmth encapsulates the left one.
“Oh,hellyes.”
How long has it been since any man suckled me like this? Months that might’ve stretched into a years. And that time hadn’t been overly satisfying. Yet this go-around is showing plenty of promise.
I don’t want him to stop. Not ever.
I stroke along his length once more, frustrated by his jeans being in the way. Picking at the button and the zipper until I locate his boxer briefs, I shove them down to reveal his shaft, the tip glistening with a transparent drop of his ready desire.
