Page 31 of Homestead

“Why would you think that?”

He doesn’t answer with words, but his eyebrows go way up.

“I know I fell apart, but that was my issue, not yours. I’m sorry about it.”

His mouth is turned down, and he’s drawn his forehead into little lines. “You were real tired. It was fine.” He pauses for a minute, his eyes moving up and down over my breasts and hips like he can’t help but sneak a peek.

“Okay. Good.” He’s not acting annoyed or angry with me, so maybe I didn’t ruin everything.

But he’s still not moving. “So you wanna have sex?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because you’re tired and were upset earlier.”

“I’m not upset now.” A sharp pang slices through my chest. “Are you upset? Do you not want to be with me tonight?” The idea is so sudden and so distressing that I start crawling to the side of the bed so I can put on my gown.

“Course I want to be with you,” he grumbles, sounding decidedly crabby. “I’m already hard as a rock from lookin’ at you naked. But I thought you’d…”

I’m torn between confusion and relief. I’m still poised on my hands and knees on the bed since I paused in the middle of crawling toward the edge. “So you do want to?”

“Yeah.” His voice is thicker. Lower. “I wanna. You’re really not mad at me?”

“No. I’m not mad.” I straighten until I’m upright on my knees. My hair is loose and is falling forward over my shoulders and breasts.

Jimmy obviously likes the looks of me. He can’t keep his eyes on my face.

His reaction gives me an inexplicable thrill of power and possessiveness both.

He takes a couple of strides toward the bed before he jerks to a stop. “I better wash up first. You don’t want me all over you smellin’ like this.”

That makes me giggle. I get settled back in my place in bed, pushing down the covers but still not lying down, while he makes rushed, sloppy work of washing his hands, face, and body after he pulls off his clothes. He turns toward me but then remembers to brush his teeth as well.

Then finally he’s coming to bed completely naked. He’s not even wearing socks like me.

He wasn’t lying earlier. He’s fully erect already. His cock bounces slightly with his motion. I like the way a trail of his dark body hair leads down to it.

When he gets into bed, I move over the way I always do to start with a blow job, but he grunts, “Uh-uh.” He eases me down on my back and keeps me there with the weight of his body.

I blink up at him. “I was going to?—”

“I know what you were gonna do, and I appreciate it. But you don’t gotta always do me first. I told you before, I’m not a selfish asshole in bed.”

“I didn’t think you were a selfish asshole. I thought you liked it.” My eyes are very wide, and there’s a tremble in my lips. It’s very disturbing to think he might not have liked the way I’ve been taking care of him.

He huffs a couple of times in amusement. “I more than like it. But I like other things too. And it don’t always gotta be me first.”

“Oh.” I frown as I mentally work through what he’s telling me. It doesn’t sound as bad as I thought. His eyes are warm. Kind of protective. And I couldn’t have been wrong about the way he responded to me sucking him off this week.

He did like it, so he must be telling me the truth.

I smile up at him. “Okay. How did you want to start then?”

“I wanna start with you.”

Those words and the husky timbre of them make me gulp. I’m almost shaking in excitement as he kisses the pulse in my neck. Then my shoulder. Then he stares at my chest for several seconds before he takes one of my nipples in his mouth.

He gives them focused attention for a long time. So long that eventually I’m squirming and making silly, pleading sounds as arousal builds and builds without relief.

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