Page 81 of Always Knew It Was You

As the taste of her lingers on my tongue, my hunger kicks back into overdrive.

As if she didn’t just come all over my face.

I want to lick her furiously until she does it again. And then I want to turn her around, bend her over the damn massage bed and fuck her brains out.

But, gentleman that I am, I resist the urge.

Believe it or not, fucking Carly is not what I brought her here for. I came to help her relax, and what we just did was part of it. But I don’t plan on taking advantage and taking it further, not until she’s sure about me again. And if I go mad in the process then so be it. Small price to pay.

Just seeing her sated form, her chest rising and falling, is enough, and though it tempts me beyond my goodwill, I refuse to give in.

Instead, I squat beside her, smiling as she tries to catch her breath and one eye finally peels open.

“So,” I grin, “Do you forgive me now? For real?’

She brings out a hand and weakly shoves me. “Don’t ask me things like that when I can’t even remember my own name.” But there’s a smile on her face when she says it that tells me everything I need to know.

I catch her hand and kiss the back of it, silently thanking her for her forgiveness. Her gaze slides lazily down my body, to the erection pushing against the front of my pants.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” she asks, a sultry note in her voice.

I’m about to say no when she licks her lips. Suddenly my core clenches violently and my brain is assailed with images of her on her knees, her tongue teasing my cock into a frenzy before swallowing down, the tip hitting the back of her throat.

Fuck, I want that. I want it so bad.

I bite off the groan that threatens to tear out my chest.

“No, thanks,” I force myself to say and she must see how much of a struggle it is because she giggles.

“Are you sure about that?”

No. “Yup.” I stand and dust my hands over my pants like a damn boy scout. “I’m good to go.”

She shakes her head again, amusement gleaming in her eyes.

“Suit yourself.” She throws her hands over her head and stretches her entire body like a kitten, making her shirt ride up even higher.

Fuck me.

I get a full frontal and it’s not like I haven’t seen her naked before, but each time it’s like an amazing discovery. This time, she invokes the imagery of a lounging goddess, satisfied after indulging in a lustful frenzy.

I take a mental snapshot, knowing full well that this is the image I’m going to pull up when I’m jerking off later in the shower.

Carly stares up at the ceiling and after a few seconds, she sighs. I can see her worries, the ones I’ve tried so hard to get rid of, returning to her gaze. I wish there was a way to stop it, or at least stave it off for longer.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask, mostly to distract her. “I thought we could grab brunch or something at a restaurant.”

She shakes her head. “No. Tomorrow is a church picnic out in St. Mary’s, and I already told Mrs. Peach that I would help her with her cookie stand. She can’t make it but Hal and I will be there.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Will you be coming?”

“To the church picnic?” I shrug. “I dunno if I can. I’m not religious and I don’t remember my Hail Mary’s too well.”

“It’s not a Catholic church. It’s episcopal I think,” she says. “And I’m not religious either. The picnic is after church and it’s mostly just a small get-together for everyone in town. Like a town fair, but more low-key.”

“Ah, I see.” I thought church would be more relevant here, but small towns seem to participate in selective religiousness as much as cities do. Not that I mind.

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