Page 9 of Gourd Enough To Eat
I winced, grabbing for a water bottle. “Here?—”
“Oh, that’s good, Elijah,” she murmured appreciatively.
I turned to look at her, really look at her. A long cotton dress hung over her curves, obscuring the curves I knew hid beneath. She’d topped everything with a plain, faded denim jacket, slightly frayed at the edges, like she’d had it for a long time. I reached out and rubbed the hem between my fingers while she sucked strawberry jam from hers. The material was soft, confirming my theory.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come to find me tonight, glitter bomb,” I murmured, using the hem of her jacket to reel her in. I lifted the deformed pastry with my other hand, lifting it to a different bench, knowing I’d need the one behind me soon.
The finger in her mouth popped free. “Do you want me to go?” Her eyes widened, her gaze darting about the kitchen as she took in my work. “—I’ve interrupted you. I’m sorry. I’ll go?—”
“No.” I caught her chin and directed her attention back to me. “Right now, I want you to take off that jacket you love somuch and put it over there, on top of my recipe books. It’s a safe place and it won’t get ruined later. Then I want you to come back here to me, alright?”
She licked her lips. “Then what?”
I held her cinnamon gaze. “Then you’re going to strip for me, get your stunning fucking ass up on that bench, and spread your legs so I can finally find out how sweet you are when you come on my tongue.”
CHAPTER SIX
ELIJAH
Wide eyes stared back at me. For a moment, I wondered if I’d pushed my luck a touch too far. Then Cadance peeled off her jacket, her gaze never wavering from mine as she folded the faded denim into a neat square.
Cadance turned away to place her jacket where I showed her on top of my books, then turned back to me, running her fingers along the thin straps of her dress.
“Hold that thought.” I swallowed hard and leaned back to dim the lights just enough to see slightly more than her silhouette.
If Cadance was going to strip for me, I wanted to see her, but I didn’t want to scare any local townspeople out taking a late walk. She was already struggling for acceptance and while I could deal with a certain level of reputation, the local rumor mill in full production at Forest Grove would hurt her a hell of a lot more than it would me.
“Should we be somewhere less public?" She glanced at the front window that I’d overcrowded with display gourds earlier in the evening for exactly this reason.
“No, glitter bomb,” I said softly. “I want to do this right here, tonight. Let me see you, because I want you spread open for me on that benchtop like a treat made just for me.”
She shivered, one arm wrapping around herself. I held my breath, barely grazing my fingertips along her arm. Cadance lifted her chin and pushed one shoulder strap down with a flick coated in her personal brand of defiance. Against herself or me, I wasn't sure.
The other strap went next, and then the whole dress just slithered over her body like a sheath. And suddenly I was staring at an expanse of creamy, curved skin without a speck of lace or undergarments marring my sight. Rounded arms led to full breasts tipped with dusky, peaked nipples begging to be toyed with. I ached to know if she moaned or cried out if I sucked on them while I pushed my fingers into her bald pussy. Her tummy was rounded too, just perfectly so, to match her full hips and the ass I’d played with on my lap when she got herself off for me the night before. And there, against that perfect skin, was a wide patch of crisscrossed lines, thin where someone had hacked into her body, breaking that flawless skin. Suddenly I had my answer on her career choices, why she froze up that first night with me, and the act of defiance undressing just now.
My throat dried and I realized just how unprepared I was for this moment.
“Who did this to you, glitter bomb,” I asked softly, raking my gaze over her body, seeking other damage. But anything else she hid was on the inside.
She shook back her glorious golden mane and met my gaze head on. “What you see is what you get, cowboy. I’m just one of thousands of women who picked the wrong man to marry. ‘The safe one’.” Her lips twisted into a smile I hated.
“He did this to you.” My voice flattened. I tried to keep the anger away that bloomed low in me, but I couldn’t keep it down. “Fuck, glitter bomb, I’ll?—”
“He doesn't matter. Nothing else does. Just us. Here. And your funky capybara pastry that tastes like strawberries and springtime.” That blast of defiance was back in her eyes, daring me to defy her.
I didn’t want to defy her. I wanted to fall to my knees and worship her like the mountain goddess she was destined to become. I opened my mouth, but nothing, not a single damn sound, came out.
“Am I too much?” She peeked at me from beneath thick, curled lashes, her blonde hair bobbing around her face. The faintest hint of a coy smile flickered at the corners of her lips like she knew the exact effect she had on me, standing there as bare as anything, scars and all, and proud of her survival. Hell, I was damn proud of her, too.
“You’re never too much for me,” I promised, unclenching my hands from my sides. I ached to touch her, but my brain jammed at the sight of her perfection right in front of me.
She seemed to get the message, and the hint of a smile became a full blown flirtation that knocked me back a step as she sashayed into me, hips swaying, hair tossed back, the whole deal.
Full breasts pressed to my chests as she rose up onto her toes. My hands were finally my own, grazing over those luscious as all fuck hips I’d dreamed about for the past few nights.
“Hells, glitter bomb. Can I touch, or am I on looking only duties?” I asked reverently.
“Touch me, please,” she breathed, rising up as high as she could.
