Page 82 of Mother Pucker

His tongue grazes over my lips, sliding in between my seam as I open my mouth to give him access. Our tongues tangle as my hands curve around his head, pulling him closer, and he hums his satisfaction.

Tilting our faces, he takes more, causing my skin to heat and my heart to drum. We moan softly, tasting each other as if the two days apart were akin to a century.

They were. They so fucking were.

“Fuck, baby, I missed you. Your lips, your taste, your laugh,” he breathes, his velvety voice ghosting over my skin before he breaks away from me all too quickly. His chest rises and falls right along with mine as he stares at me with unspoken questions in his eyes.

I drop my hands from his shirt, knowing he needs those questions answered.

I take a breath, letting the last of the October breeze envelop my lungs. “This isn’t a friends with benefits situation for me, either, Rowan. I know it’s what I said, but I think that was my last-ditch effort to keep you at arm's length.” I grab his hand, bringing his knuckles to my lips. “You’re so under my skin, you’re lodged in my heart. I couldn’t stay away from you, even if I tried.”

He raises my chin with a finger. “Then don’t.”

“I won’t.”

A satisfied smile lifts his mouth before it drops again. “I’m sorry about the online pictures, sweetheart. I wish they weren’t something we had to deal with, but you’re right. Those types of pictures will be taken again, and next time, they might be more incriminating.”

My hand goes slack against his as I try to comprehend what he means. “What are you saying, Rowan?”

He entangles our fingers together, keeping me from shifting away. “I’m saying I’m firing you, Doc.” At my creased brows, he continues, “It’s not a foolproof plan, but it’s the best I could think of to protect your job and reputation while finding a way to be together.” He waggles his brows. “In any case, my groin is almost completely better, thanks to you.” He’s clearly not referring to physical therapy.

I grin, processing his words. It’s not a bad plan. I could still get shit on if someone really wanted to make it a big deal, but terminating our professional relationship might be the only plan we have. And . . . I’m okay with taking that risk.

Because I’d be getting so much more in return.

“There’s one more thing,” he says, pulling me into his lap to straddle him. His hands rest on my ass possessively.

I run my fingers through his disheveled hair. “What’s that?”

“That I’m positively, irrevocably, and insanely falling in love with you, too.”

twenty-six

shay

1 month later

Rowan

I’ll be home in ten minutes. I want you completely naked and in the shower when I get there.

I bitedown on my bottom lip, smiling at the lewd images scrolling through my brain of what he plans to do when he gets back to his place.

Me

You do know, most people generally get in the shower naked.

I laugh, imagining him clenching his jaw.

Rowan

I think that smart mouth of yours just secured you a pink ass. And don’t you dare even think about touching yourself or using one of your million toys in there until I’m home.

I run to his bedroom and take out my favorite toy from his nightstand. Yes, I am now the owner of not one, buttwooverpriced, golden hoo-ha stuffers.

Rowan, being the generous and thoughtful man he is, insisted I keep one here for when I visit and one at home. The one at home only gets used when he's away at games, but I still have to adhere to our original stipulation–using it in front of him, as in while we’re on a video call. And let me just say, the man likes to watch me pleasure myself more than he likes to watch Sports Center, and that’s saying something because helovesSports Center.

I turn on his shower before I unbutton my silky, long-sleeved top and drop it to the floor, before wiggling out of my pants.

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