Page 79 of Cocky Caveman

One slip.

Lust—the vixen—is calling to me, urging me to wiggle my bum until his fingers slip closer, but instead, I lean my forehead against Tucker’s, my resolve is wavering, and it can’t. I shouldn’t. Not really.

In my mind, miniature Ophelia cheerleaders are shaking pom-poms excitedly while bouncing about as cheerleaders do singing:Give me an A. Give me an N. Give me an A… well, you get the picture.

I silently curse the cheerleaders.

Those pesky cheerleaders won’t shut up. Now they are raising those pom-poms higher and shouting in my mind,Give me a T. Give me a U. Give me a C…

“Is everything okay? You seem at war with yourself from the noises you are making and the mutterings.”

“I um… need my leg back.” He steadies me while helping me to unlatch myself.

I gently pry his hands from my body and take a step back, instantly regretting the void I’ve formed between our bodies. “I just need a minute.” I turn my back on him.

As if that is going to temper my hormones.

I still have my blouse on, which I classify as part armor because I am using all the restraint I can muster to avoid tearing my black thong down the side, pushing him back on the bed, straddling his face, while shouting, “Giddy up!” The thought of his tongue on my pussy, eating me out, makes me want to beg him to take me, but I don’t move a muscle.

I need a time-out to get a hold of myself. Today I agreed to a hot air balloon flight, then breakfast became brunch, and now I—“Ouch!”

I whirl around, glaring at Tucker. “Why did you do that?” My arse globe smarts from the stinging sensation; admittedly, it isn’t all pain, which isn’t helping me get a hold of myself.

“I lost you there for a bit. I’ve been talking to you, and you weren’t responding. I became concerned.”

“So, you spanked me?”Did I like what he just did?

He shrugs, looking far too pleased with himself at my reaction. “The temptation got too much. I can rub it better if you like?”

“Are you always like this?”

“Hmmm… this feels like a trick question. What I will say is, Hamlet, I am prepared to go to war for you so that I can get my mouth on your—”

“Don’t say it. I am holding onto the rule book with unsteady hands as it is.”

“You only have to say your safe word, and we will stop wherever this is leading.”

He gently pushes me back a few steps to slide down onto his knees in front of me, drawing my hips close to his face, his breath skimming my pubic bone.

He looks up at me with a wolf-like hunger and growls, “I want you riding my face, so bad, Shagspeare. I want to spread you wide and lick and suck your pussy. I will only use my mouth, so technically, I am still kissing your lips. Loopholes are wonderful things.”

Lawd, have mercy!

My loins are a puddle.

“Hamlet, I need you to use your safe word if you don’t want me to—”

“Wait, Tucker!” I am conflicted and damn horny. What a combination.

The longer he sits back watching me, the longer I have to decide that if I am going to fall off the wagon for this man, then I may as well leap from it yelling, “Yippee-Ki-Yay.”

But instead, I say something totally unexpected, “You. Hoodie and Shirt off. Shorts stay on.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Twenty-Three

ORGASMCLIFFHANGERS ARE NEVER SATISFYING

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