Page 29 of Heat Wave
“See, you walking around the house without a bra, baking me pies…it’s enough to make me want to keep you, baby.”
“Keep me?” I'm not sure if it’s actually a question or a plea for him to do just that.
“Mmm, make sure you can’t ever run away.”
“I…I wouldn’t run…away.” The last word is cut off as he rolls the stiff bud between his forefinger and thumb, making it even harder. “Oh…my God, Wa…Waylon!”
“It’s okay, Oakley. It’s going to be alright. Does it feel good, baby?”
All I can give him is a whimper before adding a nod. Does it feel good? Like nothing ever has before.
“Your little body is so responsive. So ready.”
“Ready?”
“Hmm.” He leans forward and takes my mouth again. Then slowly lowers the straps of my tank, first one and then the other, until both hang off my shoulders. “Can I?”
Does he…? “You want to…”
“Oh yeah. Can I see, sweetheart?”
My thoughts are scattered, and all I can think about is how good it felt when his hands were on me through the thin material of my tank. Technically, he’s already seen me since he was the one who put me to bed last night.
“O…okay.”
He gives me a big grin before slowly pulling the front of my top down so my breasts can pop free. My hands automatically move to cover myself, but he’s already cupping them before I can reach them. All I end up doing is covering his hands with my own as I try to find enough air to not pass out.
“Son of a bitch, baby. These put all sorts of thoughts in my head.”
“Like…like what?”
My brows crease trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Good things, I hope.
“Things that make me a bad man, given your age and innocence.”
“You’re not a bad man. You could never be a bad man.” I’m quick to correct him. He needs to know that he isn’t that.
Something flares in his eyes that takes what little breath I have away. His hands tighten on my breasts, causing them to become heavier and my body to burn.
“Baby,” His fingers brush the tips of my nipples before he squeezes the tight points, causing me to cry out and my head to fall back. He rolls the erect nubs between his thumb and forefinger before growling in my ear. “What I want to do to you begins and ends with my dick inside you so far you’ll taste me when I release inside of that bare, unprotected little pussy."
I gasp at his words. Surely, he can’t be saying…? He takes my mouth in a fierce kiss that scatters my wits and takes whatever I was thinking or going to ask away. His mouth leaves mine, and he trails his lips down my neck as he lays me back on the cool top.
When his mouth lands on one of my breasts, I cry out, and my hands come up to cup the back of his head to hold him closer to me. At some point, he’s climbed up on the island with me so that he’s above me. My legs come up to lock behind him as his free hand runs up the side of my thigh.
“You taste as good as you feel, baby. I bet that little pussy tastes just like sugar. I could smell it that first night.” I let outa squeak. “I could tell how fucking good you smell, how fucking perfect. I bet you taste fucking amazing. I bet…”
A knock on the door has both of us going still; the only sound in the room is the sound of our heavy breathing. Everything inside of me is shaking and sparking like I’ve touched a live wire and couldn’t let it go. When another knock comes, Waylon drops his head on my breasts and huffs, causing my body to shiver. When he looks back up at me, there’s a distance in his eyes like he’s already off me and maybe…regretting what we just did.
He moves to stand by me as my hands come up to cover myself. He sits me up and pulls my tank in place as he takes a step back. “Wait here. I’ll find out who it is. Don’t move.”
He takes my chin so that I am looking at him and drops a kiss on my mouth just as another knock comes. Even though he told me not to move, I hop off the island and make an effort to fix my clothes. And thank God I do because Terry is the one knocking.
She sweeps in like a whirlwind. “Hello, brother dear. Land told me you might need some cheering up.” She comes over to give me a hug. “Hey, girl. How are you?”
Before I can say anything, she’s turning back to Waylon. “Landry said,” she turns to me again, “he’s a volunteer firefighter, he said it was a rough one.”
“It was.” Even though he answers Terry, he’s looking at me.
