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Her hands instantly go to my shoulders. “What are you doing?”
I smile wide. “I’m eating dessert.”
Then I lift up the skirt of her dress and dive between her parted thighs.
She sucks in a sharp breath, and I glance up to find surprise in those blue eyes I want to get lost in for the rest of my life.
I rub my nose along the crotch of her nude panties, inhaling her musky scent. I place a kiss there before reaching up and pulling her panties down. She watches me with bated breath as I pull them down her legs and then throw them behind me.
Not wanting to break eye contact, I push her dress up until it’s bunched at her hips and then, watching her every reaction, I lean forward and lick up the seam of her sex to that swollen bud at the apex. A groan escapes as her flavor bursts on my tongue.
“So fucking perfect,” I murmur before I dive in for another taste. I slide my tongue between her folds before circling her clit. Her fingers grip my head as her hips buck into my mouth and a moan breaks free from her.
Fuck, she’s responsive.
It turns me on watching her get worked up, knowing I’m the one giving her all this pleasure. I slide one finger, then another into her wet heat, thrusting at a slow pace before slowly increasing the motion. All the while, my mouth stays suctioned to her clit which pulses against my tongue. She rises higher and higher until her legs clamp around my head, then she lets out a scream as her orgasm rips through her. Her pussy squeezes my fingers tight, and the sensation of her coming all over my face and fingers erases all control I had, and I come like a teenager in my pants.
She sags against the bed, her body limp and sated, her chest heaving. “Oh my God.”
I kiss her thigh and then lean over her body and take her lips in a deep kiss that only skims the surface of the depth of my feelings for this woman.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” she murmurs, her eyes twinkling and a soft smile on her face.
“Goodnight, Sunshine.” I drop one more kiss to her lips because they’re right there and I can’t help myself, then I head to her guest bath to clean up the mess in my pants as best I can. Thankfully, my pants are dark and it’s hard to notice the wet spot.
In the car on the way home, a rightness solidifies in my bones. I belong to her—now and always.
Twenty-Five
The dog fundraiser is set up at a local park near the no-kill shelter where I learned Will got his dog, Rex. We meet Will and Gina there right as the fundraiser is starting. This is a much more laid-back event than the gala we attended last weekend, with local food trucks parked on the street, a pet adoption fair going on, and a ton of little booths with miscellaneous activities. One has face painting, another is a dog groomer offering steep discounts to anyone who adopts a pet today. There’s a band playing classic hits and little kids dancing around and blowing bubbles.
It’s hard not to smile at all the happy faces—from both animals and people alike.
“Hey, let’s check out that booth,” Dom says, taking my hand and setting off a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. For the first time since we started this thing, the butterflies aren’t because of his touch but because the booth he’s pulling me toward just so happens to be Jared’s.
After Danae told me about this event at the gala last weekend, I called Jared to see if he’d be willing to participate, even if he only used my paintings and donated all the proceeds. He was all for supporting the shelter because apparently all his animals have been rescues, and he likes finding new ways to give back to the community.
Which means the paintings that Dom is now perusing are mine, and he has no idea.
Or at least I didn’t think he did until he turns to me with a glint in his eye that I know well.
“You’ve been keeping a secret from me.”
My shoulders sag. “How did you know?”
He tilts his head and arches an eyebrow in that look that shouts come on. “No one knows you better than I do. I’d recognize your talent anywhere. I’ve stared at similar paintings in your apartment a million times. Hell, I’ve begged you to paint a ton for my house and even offered to pay for them.”
“Yeah, but that felt weird because you’re my friend. You have to be supportive.”
His gaze grows fierce and he steps into my personal bubble until my head is tilted back to look up at him. “I’m not just your friend, Laney.”
I can hardly breathe over the nerves that infiltrate my body. “What are you?” I whisper.
“I’m your man.”
That doesn’t clear things up enough for me. “What does that mean exactly?”
