Page 20 of Protect Home
“Sure thing, bat boy. If you insist.”
His smile tells me he appreciates my surrender, and I know at this very moment that I’ve made my choice for the night.
Setting the glass to the side, August brings his finger coated with the old-fashioned mixture to my lips and skims the surface. His eyes roll to the back of his head before watching, transfixed, as I lick the liquid from my lips, my tongue stroking his finger in the process.
I hum my approval. “How’s it taste?” he asks.
It’s now that I grin. I’ve come full circle with no intent to stop. Surprising August, I reach for the glass beside us and pluck the cherry from the mixture before bringing it to my lips.
His caramel eyes never stray. Laser focused on the juice of the cherry currently coating my mouth. I skim the round velvety part against my bottom lip before plopping it against my tongue.
“Tastes bitter. Needed something sweet to take the edge off.”
August groans, and my sights focus on the protrusion of his Adam’s apple. “I know the feeling well,” he counters, his gravelly voice sending tingles across my bare skin.
Yanking the stem against my teeth, I intend to get rid of it, but stop short as August grabs it from my hand and tosses it into his mouth.
Nothing but the stem.
“What are you…”
With his full frame leaning into my space, he cages me in, making me useless to flee. I’m forced to observe his every move. And in this case, remain utterly still as he opens his mouth and reveals the cherry stem that was just in mine, now tied into a perfectly tight knot against his tongue.
Holy mama.
“You know what they say about tying?—”
“I know the myth,” I cut him off, not needing to hear him any further. “Great drink. You have a decent future as a bartender,” I tell him, my tone short. “We should get back.”
This feeling inside of me is about to burst if I don’t take some space. I need to think it through. My mind viciously warns me to stay away…but my lonely vagina…it wants the mustached, stem-tying man to take a gander on the wild side with me.
Before he has a chance to respond, I’m sliding out from underneath him and returning to our friends.
Bourbon against my tongue and tingles throughout my needy body.
I know I shouldn’t, but I want August Graves. And I might be dumb enough to take him.
Yep,I’m royally screwed.
He’s enjoying this. I just know it.
August would never bring attention to it. Strangely enough, he’s respectful in that way, but I can’t hide the desire rushing through me if I tried.
I thought fleeing the bar earlier would be enough for me to gather my bearings and think clearer, but it seems I was wrong.
Seeing him stripped down to close to nothing right now has me panting. Panting to get closer. Cop a feel of that tatted skin. Add in licking the bourbon from his finger earlier and the fucking cherry stem; I’m in serious trouble.
There’s not an ounce of fat on his body. The broadness of his chest only brings attention to his full and rigid ab muscles, leading to the deepest dang V I’ve ever seen.
Tattoos scatter across his skin in a slightly messy way. But on him, they appear intentional. Like there’s a meaning behind each of them and a story to coincide with it. The stacked dice on his bicep, and the sharp rose with thorns and weathered leaves along his shin. He’s fascinating. Fascinating in a way that scares me.
It’s as if I’m galivanting around with blinders on tonight. I make no effort to hide my horniness, and maybe that makes me weak, but I pretend not to notice it.
The cherry stem did me in. I almost asked him to do the same to my clit. I’d bet my last dollar he would do it, too. No questions asked.
I’ve got to say, though, he’s serving as a great emotional buffer. I feel oddly lighter and less…stressed about all the things to come in the next month. As excited as I am, I’m just as nervous for the process to take place.
Ready but anxious.
