Page 48 of Hat Trick
Is anything better than making a man come quicker than they like to?
His eyes are squeezed shut, like even looking at me will have him coming sooner. He’s beyond beautiful, tied up, and letting me take whatever I need from him.
So I do just that.
I start circling my already sensitive clit, trying to make us both cross the finish line together. I’m not going to tell him, but I’m right there already too, andthe feeling of his cock pressing against the spot inside of me with every grind of my hips has my eyes crossing.
With a pained expression, Dom grits out, “Lil, Honey… I’m going to?—”
“Come. Fill me, Dom.Please, Baby,” I beg. And like the good boy he is, he listens.
Deep inside of me, buried to the hilt, Dom fills me. His cock pulses with his release, and I make sure to geteverydrop.
I slump back, placing my hands on his knees, but his cock is still inside of me. As I slowly lift myself off his half-hard cock, a satisfied groan leaves his lips as he stares between my legs.
Reaching down, I insert two of my fingers, while watching him watch me. “Let me put that back where it belongs.”
1 Cannibal - Ke$ha
CHAPTER 30
YOU CAN ALWAYS CALL YOUR MOM
EMERSON
I’m flipping through my cookbooks as I search for the perfect recipe, but I’m unable to find exactly what I’m looking for.
I know what I want to make, I can picture it in my head. I’ve just never made it by myself before—but I know the one person who has hundreds of times. Grabbing my phone, I try to call my mom. Shocker to literally no one, she doesn’t answer. For a woman who constantly harps on her children about calling her more often, she’s really good at not answering the damn phone. I know there’s no use in calling my dad because he’s just as bad.
?1 Pulling up the app where I can see my friends’ locations, I find Jackson at our parents’ house. Which tracks, because it’s Friday afternoon, so heand Dad are likely sitting down for lunch inside. I’m certainly not jealous of the fact that Jackson is back working on the ranch again—even though I know he’s absolutely loving his life right now—but I amdefinitelyjealous that he gets to enjoy Mom’s cooking again.
Relenting to the fact that this is the only way I’m going to get what I need, I call my older brother.
After just a couple rings, he answers. “Hey, man. What’s up?” His voice is muffled, and I just know he’s talking with a mouth full of food.
“Eating lunch in the house?” I ask.
“Mhmm,” he replies before taking another bite.
“Is Mom there?”
“Don’t wanna talk to me?”
“Unless you suddenly know how to bake, then no.”
“God you’re always so grumpy. Yeah she’s here. Hold on, let me put you on speaker.” The line is silent for a moment before he says, “Here she is, Momma’s Boy.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not a Momma’s Boy, you fuc?—”
“Hey, Sweetheart.” Mom’s light voice floats through the phone, and I cut off any expletives I was about to throw out. “Why didn’t you just try calling my phone?”
A small smile tugs at my lips. “I did, Momma. You didn’t answer. Do you even know where your phone is?”
I just know she’s patting at all of her pockets and looking around the counters. “Well I?—”
“I think I saw it out on one of the fence posts. Musta left it out there when you were feeding this morning,” Dad grumbles.
“Dawson,” Mom sighs. “If you saw my phone sitting on a fence post, why would you not bring it in?”
