Page 96 of The Back Forty
And dammit, Lawson sweaty and turned on is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
The muscles in his arms are flexing, his chest is heaving. A vein throbs in his temple, and his mouth falls open in a broken moan as he drives into me one final time and comes, hips jerking, cock pulsing as he releases deep inside me.
Heat floods me as he spills himself raw into me and when he collapses on top of me, he’s careful, balancing his weight on his elbows. He kisses my cheek, my collarbone, the swell of my breast before resting his head there gently across my heart.
“Shit,” I murmur when he rolls to the side and pulls me into his chest, his hand rubbing up and down my spine. “What time is it? Are we going to miss our flights home?”
He doesn’t even open his eyes. Just grins sleepily, lazily, and keeps holding me tight.
“Nah, I had our flights changed.”
I blink up at him, resting my chin on my fist. “To where?”
“Louisiana. We’ll get in a day early before the interview.” He yawns and kisses my hair. “I thought we could explore the city. Maybe do a little sightseeing. Or hell, spend the whole day inside each other if you want.”
My mouth drops open. “Really?”
He smiles again, slow, sleepily, and a little smug. “Only if that’s okay with you? I thought I could take you on a proper date when we land there instead of going back to North Carolina for a day. No deadlines, no pressure. Just me and you.”
I throw a leg over him and press my lips to his hard.
“Lawson,” I murmur, smiling against his mouth. “That sounds like a dream.”
“Then it’s settled,” he says, tucking me under the covers tighter, curling his body around mine like he has no intention of ever letting go. "Our new flight leaves in three hours. That's plenty of time for us to get a quick nap and me to eat that pussy again. This time, in the shower."
I smile as I close my eyes, drifting off to the sound of his heart beating gently because that sounds like the perfect start to a morning with him.
Chapter 38 – Lawson
I wasn’t sure what to expect from our free day in New Orleans, but whatever I imagined hasn't come close to how damn good it’s been to be here with Dani and not think about work.
It started in Minnesota, with Dani riding my face in our hotel bed until she came with her thighs clenched tightly around my head and her fingers buried deep in my hair.
Then we moved to the shower where I ate her pussy from behind just as promised before fucking her against the tiled wall.
Not a bad way to start a travel day.
After that, we threw on clothes and grabbed a quick bite at the tiny terminal airport café. She got her usual: coffee with no cream and a little cup of yogurt that she barely touched. I went for tea and a greasy breakfast burrito, my favorite travel-day indulgence. Then we boarded the flight south, where she curled up against me and fell asleep within minutes—one arm wrappedaround mine, her cheek pressed to my shoulder like it belonged there and if I have anything to say about it, it does.
I watched her sleep the whole flight. Her lips slightly parted, soft breaths brushing over my skin, those quiet little snores I’ve come to love.
It reminded me of all those times over the past year on planes, in hotel lounges, in town cars when I’d watch her rest from a polite distance. When I’d wonder what it’d be like to touch her in a way that wasn't accidental. Kiss her. Tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her forehead and breathe her in like I was allowed to.
And this time, Iwasallowed to because this time, she was mine.
When we landed in New Orleans, the air was cooler than expected but still warm enough for her to slip off her sweater and walk beside me in that red top that hugs her just right. We wandered through the Quarter, ate at one of my favorite spots I've been itching to show her and laughed the entire time.
It all felt comfortable. Like we weren’t coworkers or travel companions or even two people figuring out how to be more. It felt like we’d been doing this forever.
It hit me then how much we already know each other. Middle children from full families, always toeing the line between overlooked and overburdened. Both raised to please, to perform, to make our parents proud even if it meant pretending not to need anything in return. Or at least, that's what we’ve internalized without anyone saying it.
I’ve always known her. Not just her work ethic.Her.It’s a strange feeling moving into a relationship with a woman who’s been one of your closest friends. There’s no pretense or pretending. No need to impress beyond all the things I want to show her I really am. She knows me intimately, and I know her. And spending time with her like this, outside the walls of ourusual routines, I’ve been doing everything I can to show her she’s more than her job. That I’m more than mine.
There’s something quiet and familiar in Dani’s drive, in the way she wants to be good at everything. I get the feeling she thinks she needs to earnlove the same way that I do and I'm hell bent on proving to her that she'll never have to earn mine because she already has it.
So, every time I feel myself start to talk about the interview we’ve got with the major news network here tomorrow, I shut up. I refocus on her. The way that she laughs with her whole chest when I point out bad street performers. The way her hand finds mine while we walk without either of us thinking too hard about it. I don’t want to ruin the sweetness of this day and the softness in her smile. The way she leans into me like it’s a habit now.
“You want to just stay in tonight?” she asks when we finally make it back to the hotel. “We can order room service.”
