Page 57 of Pick Me
I remembered teasing him about that once, back when I hadn’t wanted him to know what the sound of his voice actually did to me.
“It’s making me something,” I whispered. “You should maybe repeat that.”
Now that we were back on familiar turf, I felt my nerves settle. This was the same old Knox from the orchard. The man who lectured me about proper dishwasher positioning for efficient surface area exposure to cleansing agents, and the man who never failed to mention how much food I consumed in a day.
Knox.MyKnox.
Despite the teasing, I hadn’t at all forgotten about the giant hard cock bulging between us. I wanted it, needed it, in my mouth.
I kept my eyes on him as I scooted down the bed. Once my face was even with the bulge, I ran my fingers over the shape of it through his open pants. The soft fabric of his boxer briefs moved easily over the hardness below as I rubbed him and enjoyed the sounds he made in response.
“Stop teasing me, Goodman,” he rumbled. “And if you turn the tables on me and try and tell me we need to take it slow, I’m going to call Curt and have him talk to you about Madonna’s entire back catalog while I blow you, and good fucking luck orgasming when he’s talking about how ‘Papa Don’t Preach’ helped him realize he was gay.”
“You’re a terrible person,” I whispered against the outline of his dick.
“This is not a surprise, baby. Now get to work… or I will.”
I closed my eyes and smiled for just a moment. He was so fucking fun. So adorably grumpy and deliciously sexy. What was it about him that made me feel this way? Like a balloon that had been accidentally let go at an outdoor party and floated free above the celebration? Part danger, part exhilaration.
I yanked his pants down and then shoved him onto his back on the bed before pressing my face into the front of his shorts. His body heat, his scent, the hard roll of his cock against my cheek were enough to make me let out another long moan. Knox’s fingers reached into my hair and tightened.
“Goodman,” he croaked.
“Your threats don’t scare me,” I said, feeling bubbly with anticipation. I pressed my chin against his dick and moved it up his shaft. “We’re going at old man speed now whether you like it or not.”
I pulled away enough to rid him of his underwear. Knox’s cock was thick and ruddy, sticky at the tip and heavy in my hand.
“Nice,” I whispered before dragging my tongue up and down the hot skin. Knox’s thick thighs tightened as I began to work his dick. I licked and sucked while palming his sac. His balls were heavy and full, furry the way I liked them and tightening with need in my hand.
I ran my other hand along Knox’s thigh, appreciating the tight shape of his muscles and the sharp crinkle of the hair there. He was big and strong, much more substantial than I was, and I wanted to feel the full weight of him pressing me down as he thrust into me.
“Just like that,” Knox breathed. His grip on my hair had softened, and he caressed the back of my head before brushing my cheek with his fingers. “So hot. So fucking good for me.”
Hell. I wanted to be good for him. After all the time spent flirting with him and teasing him, the truth of it was, there was part of me that wanted to serve him like this. On my knees. Willing to do anything to hear his sharp intake of breath, witness the gruff and grumbly man finally, finally letting go of some of his self-control.
I could suck this man for hours. My hands roamed everywhere, memorizing the hills and valleys of his muscular frame, imagining all the different ways I could make him feel good, make him come.
The weight of his thick cock on my tongue lulled me into a lusty haze, so when Knox’s hand tightened in my hair again, I blinked up at him in surprise.
“Stop. Want to fuck you.” His voice was rough again, which only made me harder. I pulled off his dick and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Condom,” I said, looking around for where I’d dropped the supplies earlier. They’d ended up halfway under one of the pillows. I grabbed the bottle of lube and shoved it at him before trying unsuccessfully to rip the condom open.
“Growling at it won’t get the thing open,” Knox said in an annoyingly calm voice.
I glared at him, only to notice a sweet kind of tender smile on his face. My heart tumbled a tiny bit. “Well, ripping it didn’t work, so what else am I supposed to try?”
Knox grabbed my face in his large grip again and pressed a firm kiss on my lips. I forgot what we were talking about.
“Lie down and let me do this part,” he said against my lips.
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled, slumping onto the mattress and shooting involuntary heart eyes at him. I tried blinking the little insurgents away. This wasn’t a love connection. As much as I truly liked Knox Sunday, this was a hookup. I was well aware of his aversion to relationships, especially a relationship with me, so I needed to shove the heart-train back into its highly inappropriate station.
I returned his kisses hungrily until I felt cool, slick fingers circle my hole. I sucked in a breath and threw my head back, bending my knees up to my chest to give Knox as much room as he needed. I was hungry for his touch and beyond ready to feel him inside me.
When I opened my eyes again, Knox’s eyes were locked on my face, and I got the impression he was taking in every detail of my reactions and crunching the data to determine what moves worked best to wring a response out of me.
Spoiler alert: all of them.
