Page 18 of Trusting the Fall

I lean in closer to her, the smell of plum and vanilla hitting my senses and making my pulse skyrocket, remembering the last time that scent consumed me.

“Sweden. Mum took me when I was sixteen to visit her family.”

“Ahhh, so you reallyarea Viking?”

“I don’t know about that.” I chuckle. “You should see my uncle. Ice blond hair, seven feet tall.”

“Is he single?” Moving the hand that was still toying with her hemline, I dig into her ribs, tickling her.

The most delighted giggle falls from her lips. I want to record it and set it as my ringtone.

Instead, I drag her barstool closer to me, leaving her right between my open thighs.

My nose dives into her neck, inhaling. I’m already addicted to her perfume, her soft skin, the warmth radiating from it. I drag my tongue slowly up her neck and leave a kiss just behind her ear.

“You looking to be punished, Bombshell?”

“Am I still waiting for your drink order? Because this little peacock display you guys have going on has me needing to find someone to flirt with. Badly.”

I didn’t realise Mason was still standing behind the bar in front of us, witnessing just how thoroughly I’m owned by this woman.

“Hold the cocktail, Casanova,” I tell Mason as I stand up, drain what’s left of my beer and wrap an arm around my beauty queen’s waist, hauling her into me.

I lean down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t think I can watch you suck on a straw for however long you take to finish a cocktail when I know damn well you’ll enjoy sucking on my cock far better.”

“Did you drive?” she asks, and all I do is nod.

I only had one light beer to keep my hands busy, hoping my night would finish exactly the way it’s about to.

“You think you can’t wait for me to finish a cocktail?” she says. “Who says I can wait until my place to suck your cock?” She looks pointedly down at the growing bulge in my jeans. “Hope you’re a good driver, Lover Boy.”

For her, I’ll be anything.

8

NeverhaveIbeenmore grateful for driving an automatic truck than I am right now. I keep one hand on the steering wheel while my other holds the exploring hand of the vixen beside me.

I dot kisses along her open palm and wrist. “You’re trouble, baby. Keep these naughty little hands to yourself until I get you home.”

Her thighs squirm and press together in the passenger seat as she twists her body closer to me.

“But being naughty is so much better than being nice,” she says, bringing herself further over to my side to lick up my neck, making me hiss.

“You’re naughty and nice, baby,” I whisper. “So good at being bad.”

She extracts her hand from mine to place it on my neck, pulling me in closer to her and nipping at the skin. I groan and glance down at the GPS. Fuck, it’s still nineteen minutes until we get to her place.

I take a deep breath, fighting against the discomfort in my jeans. My cock is rock hard and straining against the zipper. I’m not gonna last long the first time I have her. I need to get her ready before then.

My hand shoots out to squeeze her golden thigh. The loose, frilly skirt of her dress is already riding high from the way she’s rocking her hips, trying to ease her building arousal.

I skate my hand up her thighs, humming at the scorching heat coming from between her legs.

She parts for me, allowing my hand to twist and brush a finger against the lace covering her hot pussy, already wetting the fabric. Moaning at the contact, I fight to keep my eyes on the road.

I desperately want to watch her come undone, but I won’t risk our safety. She may test my control, but I’d never let harm befall her.

My hand snakes up so I can put it all the way into her underwear, my middle and pointer finger making a slow descent, grazing over her piercing, then down to her dripping core, dipping briefly inside.

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