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His length thickened and stirred further against her cunt.
She gripped his shoulders and glanced down at her breasts. An order for him to put his mouth to work. He wet his lips, eyes dark blue flame, and closed the distance.
As he suckled her, teased and caressed, her eyes half closed. She rubbed herself slow against his length, letting him feel her slickness, covering him with it. He caressed her sensitive skin with his clever mouth, hands strong and sure on her waist, flexing. Subtle signs he was ready to help when she wanted to mount his cock.
All in good time, because the man had a mouth meant to be enjoyed. She stretched further against his hold, secure in his strength, waves of pleasure building.
She had left her phone in its bag on the pile of clothing, so she touched his face, caressed the mouth tasting the top curve of her left breast. She drew his attention to the start button of the bike.She wanted to feel the vibration. Have him rev the engine as he drove into her.
Her arousal was taking her up and up, making her want all the trappings of primitive power and sexual heat.
He understood. He looped her arm over his shoulder, an unspoken direction to hold on as he started the bike up. As he settled back onto the seat, her gaze met his. He clasped her waist and lifted her up, angling himself so she slid down his full length, that excruciatingly wonderful slow descent. She clenched her muscles on him, feeling every point of friction possible until she was fully seated.
The chug-chug-chug idling of the engine, the heat coming off of it, gave her the pleasure she’d hoped. She could tell the vibration and that heat brought him the memory of the sound, how it made him feel.
She pushed herself up, came back down. Bless the man’s intuition, he’d put his hand on the throttle, keeping his other at her waist as he revved the engine for her. The noise level increased like the crashing of her heart as she rose and fell, her arousal rising on the same power surge. God, it was incredible.
She held onto his shoulders as his head dipped back to her breasts. Her desire spurted at the heated, wet touch of his mouth, his teeth, the sexual possession and devouring of her flesh. His one hand remained tight on her hip, and she reached out blindly, grasping his other forearm, letting him know she wanted both hands back on her.
He put them to good use, curving them over her ass to drive her down, bring her up, helping them both. She let go of Mistress and sub, and they became one in their intent, in mindless animal pleasure as it was meant to be experienced.
As the climax roared over her, she dug her nails into his jaw, capturing his attention, giving him the cue that told him she wanted his release again. No matter that he’d offered that a shorttime ago, she had no doubt he could find more to give her. It took some extra minutes, time she used to ride him through her aftershocks. As his orgasm jetted forth at last, she savored his groans. Her body reacted to them as if he’d shot his seed into her without the condom, sending sensations through her cunt, thighs, and lower belly, a whole-body tingling.
The engine’s idling matched the hum through her blood. When he finally switched it off, he held her close, his arms around her back, face pressed into her throat, nuzzling her there. The engine ticked as it cooled, as his hands swept over her spine, waist and hips. Gripped and held. They were still rocking, she realized, like they rested in a cradle being pushed by the universe of feelings they were experiencing.
It wasn’t a moment for declarations. They were mature enough to know that. But that seed that she’d planted in her head was growing, spreading throughout her like the sensation of that orgasm. If it was there the next time she was calm and rational, both of them fully clothed, she would eventually say the words.
She didn’t want to share him with anyone. She wanted him to be hers.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Six boxes of cookies. That was what happened when a man was accosted by a Girl Scout troop stationed outside the grocery store.
He’d gone to stock up for the rally. Though he’d shopped there since that earlier disastrous trip, refusing to be defeated by a damn grocery run, he’d still been uptight about it. He decided he was tired of that shit. This time, he was ready to take the bull by the horns.
When the little girl jabbering at him from behind her stacks of cookies stopped to take a breath, he spoke. “Hey. I’d like to buy some, but I’m deaf and I don’t read lips. Can you use your phone to talk with me?”
Wasn’t he hot shit? Like a damn PSA for the hearing-impaired. Yeah, he’d felt a little too proud of himself, but it was his private moment and he’d enjoy it.
The girls had been enthusiastic, and excessively helpful. Apparently there was a merit badge for assisting the disabled, and he’d given them a primo chance to earn it.
He didn’t get too riled about that, since he was busy enough managing his unmanly terror at being eyed like romance cover candy by giggling pre-teens. Thankfully, the supervising mothercurbed their attempts at flirtation, which he indulged in a hopefullyveryappropriate adult man way.
It all went so well he bought the half dozen boxes. Plus gave Mom a parting wink that made her blush and laugh before he headed for the parking lot with the cookies and his groceries.
Life hadn’t ended because he couldn’t hear. He had three bays open. Regulars were returning for service and repairs, because Red, Larry and Maryshka were working alongside him again. He was also letting them do more in the front office, and he’d told them what kind of communication help he needed—and what he didn’t.
He’d never been so tired at the end of a workday, because communicating with people he couldn’t hear took as much energy as working on an engine. But he was doing it.
He’d sat out and shared an afterwork beer with Chuck, who couldn’t type on his phone worth a damn with his big fingers, but he could scribble all day long on a pad of paper. Tiger had shown him a couple sign language phrases. Including the dirty ones, of course. Skye had rolled her eyes when he asked her to show him those, but she’d done it.
Reaching out to Colt hadn’t gone as well. His dickhead brother wasn’t willing to let him see Aubrey. He probably suspected Tiger would be more on Rose and Bill’s side about where she should live. However, he’d grudgingly told Tiger he could write to Aubrey and send her stuff. So Tiger had mailed her a care package that included her favorite homemade cookies, a funny card and letter from her loving uncle.
Skye surprised him by contributing to it, with a bracelet and matching charm for her school backpack. The trinkets had beads that looked like animal faces, elephants, giraffes and tigers. Stones were also strung on them that Vera had told Skye represented comfort during loss, a healing of mind and spirit, plus a boatload of protection and courage.
Yeah, the kid needed that. He was worried as shit about her. Rose and Bill were talking to a lawyer and trying to get things moving as fast as they could to sue for custody. It was all they could do for now. Tiger still hoped Colt would pull his head out of his ass, though. Maybe that was why Tiger had baked the cookies from their mom’s recipe. They’d been Colt’s favorite, too.
Skye had helped him get to this better headspace, helped him do it for himself. While his memories of Nicole and worries for Aubrey, plus the occasional anxiety about the hearing shit and headaches still kept him up too many nights, he was back on track.
