by Kendall Ryan
“Far be it for me to argue,” he said and cupped the space between my thighs, rubbing gently before continuing. “Just know that I still want to fuck you after.”
I knew Duke and Molly would be gone all day to lend a hand to a neighbor, leaving us truly and completely alone. That feeling made me bold, a little reckless.
“If you insist,” I teased, then sank to my knees in front of him as he kicked out his chair to face me.
With deft hands, he loosened the buckle and tugged his belt free, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clunk. Then he released the button and zipper and pulled his jeans to his ankles before kicking them aside until he was left in nothing but his black boxer briefs.
Already, I could see the huge bulge jutting out beneath the fabric, and my mouth watered at the idea of tasting him. Why had I waited so long for this? In the entire week we’d had, how had I wasted so much time? And now, with less than two days left . . .
Tomorrow I would have to do it again, just so I had more than one memory to take with me. And then maybe we could do it in the shower and—
But I was getting ahead of myself. Here and now was about him, pulling down those boxers to reveal the huge, hard cock I knew was waiting for me, wanting me. I licked my lips as he pulled his briefs down and tossed them aside with the rest of his clothes.
“Shirt too,” I said, and he raised his eyebrows.
“When did you get so bossy?”
I stood and turned as if I were going to walk away. “Okay, if you don’t want to listen.”
Big, powerful hands gripped my hips and pulled me back against his muscular chest as he whispered into my ear, “You’re not going anywhere.”
My heart skipped a beat as he gripped the hem of my shirt and tugged it over my head. Unthinking, I followed his lead, stretching my hands over my head and letting my shirt join his clothing on the floor.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he murmured.
My breath caught as, with the slightest twist, my bra tightened and then released as I allowed it to fall away from me.
“I want to see those tits bounce while you suck my dick,” he said, and another surge of longing rushed between my thighs.
My heart was beating so fast and the blood was rushing to my ears with so much intensity that I wanted to fall to my knees in front of him and suck long and deep. I slid from his lap and took my place between his open knees, my thoughts filled with nothing but how hot his skin would feel against my hips, how amazing he would smell as I bobbed up and down.
He dragged his shirt up over his head and grinned at me, revealing a muscular chest and the sexiest set of abs I’d ever been up close and personal with. “A deal’s a deal. Though I want you to take off those pants too. You’d look so hot with your knees open, sucking my cock and waiting for me.”
I shivered a little at the thought, but the feistier side of me took over. “Not part of the deal. You’ve got to wait for that.”
I inched closer to him, taking the base of his shaft in one hand while I cupped his balls with the other. Gently, I massaged him while I worked him up and down, readying him for me. There was no way I’d be able to fit all of him in my mouth—in truth, I might need both hands just to make up for the portion of him I wouldn’t be able to take—but watching him as I worked was enough to make me want to come right then and there.
His eyes darkened as he watched. He tucked one hand under my chin to force me to look into those brooding, hungry eyes.
“You’re a tease,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
I tossed him a smile. “You want my mouth?”
But I didn’t wait for him to respond. As his hand moved to grasp the nape of my neck, I leaned down and took him into my mouth, sucking his sensitive head as I rolled the tip of my tongue over him. He let out a low groan as I worked and took him deeper, doing my best to fit as much of him inside my mouth as I could.
His skin was even hotter than I imagined, and as he bobbed against the back of my throat, my tongue burned with the sensation of lapping him. With a little tick of movement, I could feel him growing harder still inside my mouth, and he gripped the back of my neck with more force, urging me to keep up.
All the while, I worked him with one hand, loving the way his thighs twitched with every long, deep suck. With him still inside my mouth, I let out a little moan of approval, simultaneously loving and hating the ache in my jaw that was building with every passing thrust. My lips were becoming sore with sweet, sensitive heat, and I knew when I pulled away, they would be swollen and red from my efforts. This, I knew, would only make his kisses cooler by comparison in the best, most scintillating way.
That was, if he kissed me at all. For all I knew, he might simply bend me over the table and have his wicked way with me—just like his little stick figures had done.
“Enough,” he groaned as his commanding grip dragged me back and away from him. “I can’t fucking take it anymore. Take off those pants and let me see what’s mine.”
With the deep rumble of his voice, I knew better than to argue, even though I felt bereft the second my lips left him. Standing, I unzipped my jeans and stepped carefully out of them until I was in nothing but a bright blue scrap of lace. Silently, I hooked my thumbs under the elastic, but then Luke was on his knees in front of me, his teeth on my panties as he dragged them to the floor. When he righted himself, he kissed me between my thighs, and I let out another little shiver of pleasure.
“Bend over,” he commanded, and again I followed his lead.
With one hand, I swept aside the papers we’d spent all day toiling over and then bent over the table, careful to pull myself onto my tiptoes so he could get a nice, good look at what I knew he wanted most to see.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “I wish I could take a picture. I could stare at your pussy all day, baby.”
I shot a smile at him from over my shoulder.
Apparently, that was all it took. With another muttered oath, he gripped himself and drove into me hard and fast, and I let out a little gasp.
His powerful fingers dug into my thighs, and with greedy, hungry thrusts, he bent my body to his will. With one hand on the table to steady me, I reached the other between my legs and pleasured myself, heightening the steady push and pull of his swollen cock as he drove into me harder and harder still.
“That’s it, baby. I love watching you touch yourself,” he rasped.
I looked over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of the steady concentration in his eyes. With every thrust, his jaw ticked with desperate need, and the sight of it alone made me let out a little moan of pleasure. If this was our last time together, I was going to make it memorable. I was going to make sure we came together.
Working myself faster still, I clenched around his huge length, and he let out another low groan.
“Fuck,” he muttered, and I pushed back against him, causing him to take me even faster than before.
With every move, he pushed deeper inside me. I closed my eyes, savoring the way my inner walls tightened, shaking and quaking to the point of spilling over into orgasm.
I was so close, so close to the edge, and all I had to do was—
“Damn, Charlotte.”
My name on his lips was like the key to a hidden room. A surge of euphoria rushed over me and I gripped the table with both hands, using it to steady myself as the orgasm ripped through my every cell. My channel closed over him, gripping and releasing in a flurry of spasms.
“Luke,” I cried.
His fingers dug into my skin to the point of pain as he bucked against me, groaning and flexing as he came, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to feel him letting go, losing himself in me as I lost myself in him. Having everything, everything we could give each other.
Even if it was only for a little while.
Chapter Fifteen
Luke
“Shit.” I rolled over and rubbed my eyes before glan
cing at the digital clock on my nightstand, all too aware that Charlotte was still curled next to me, her hair splayed across my blue pillowcase.
“What?” she mumbled as she reached for me, pulling me closer.
“I missed church.”
“Just go to a later service.”
She moved onto her side, her warm, naked skin rubbing against my thigh. I turned over, hugging her close until my rigid cock was pressed against the seam of her ass. Minx that she was, she wiggled against me, coaxing me to pin her down and do all the things I’d done to her last night over and over again.
“There is no other service. The minister is probably already with his family for the day.”
“What, to go and ask for confession or something?” She yawned and snuggled against my chest.
“Catholics have confession. Not Baptists.”
She shrugged. “Potato, tomato.”
“Not the saying. Now, come on.” I flipped the covers from over her and she yanked them back up again—although not before I caught sight of her creamy skin and full breasts.
“What? I’m not going anywhere. It’s sleepy time.”
She pulled the covers over her head, and I walked around to her side of the bed, kissing the lump on the comforter where I knew her head was hidden.
“We missed the service, but we still have Sunday lunch with Molly and Duke. If we don’t show up, they’ll come to check on us. And do you want them finding you like this?”
Her blue eyes peeked out from the edge of the comforter. “Maybe.” She reached out from beneath it and ran a finger up the length of my thigh, tempting me from my knee to the inside of my leg, and then higher . . .
My cock gave a gratified twitch, and for a moment I pictured her leaning forward to take me in her mouth again, her morning hair still tousled as she moved her head up and down and worked me over.
“You like me,” she teased, smiling as my cock twitched at the mental image.
I stepped away from her and pointed to where she’d left her suitcase.
“Come on and get dressed. We can talk about how much I like you later.”
I headed for my dresser before I could see her pout—another reminder of how full and luscious those lips of hers were—and made quick work of dressing. Pulling my old Stallions ball cap over my head a few minutes later, I turned and found her all dolled up in a pretty lavender sundress that showed off her slender curves.
“You look incredible.”
She grinned at me and I took her hand, ready to pull her to the truck, but before I did, she quickly lifted the hem of her dress, flashing me.
I blinked in surprise, my brain stuttering to a dead stop. “Are you . . .”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not wearing panties. You know, in case you change your mind on the way there.”
Hot. Damn. This woman would be the death of me.
Throwing her onto the bed, I decided it would be best to take a little detour before hitting the road.
• • •
Half an hour later, when we were both sated and her hair was more mussed than before, we jumped into the truck and hightailed it to What the Cluck. Duke’s pickup was already in the parking lot, and we pulled up beside it.
Molly and Duke were waiting for us inside, the table already laden with our regular order of fried chicken, green beans, and biscuits. When I walked through the door, my sister gave me the kind of knowing look that made my cheeks warm.
If she’d been there, she would have known there was nothing I could do, though. Not when I had Charlotte so close and willing, sans panties.
Not when our time was almost up.
At least we’d shown up for lunch despite what we could be doing. Church was important, but family was my religion.
Charlotte and I sat on the bench opposite my siblings, and Molly grinned at us before offering us the plates she’d already dished out for us.
“How was church?” Charlotte asked brightly.
“It was wonderful. The sermon was about forgiveness,” Molly said, eyeing me.
“Then you won’t mind that we’re late,” I shot back, and Molly shot me another cutting look.
Duke just laughed. “We might, but I don’t think Mr. and Mrs. French will.” He nodded toward the older couple sitting in the corner of the room with the reverend and his wife.
“My absence was noted?” I raised my eyebrows.
Duke shrugged. “You know how Mrs. French is.”
“I don’t,” Charlotte said, and I winced, wishing my brother would stuff a sock in it.
“Mr. and Mrs. French feel strongly that their granddaughter needs to marry a nice boy from a good family,” Duke explained.
“And since everyone knows Duke isn’t the marrying type—” Molly added.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Duke held up his hands. “I tried, if you recall.”
“With Dana French?” Molly rolled her eyes. “Good move. No chance in hell.”
“Why not?” Charlotte asked.
“She’s more Luke’s type,” Duke said, and when Charlotte raised her eyebrows, Molly rushed in to explain.
“The Frenches just want someone who isn’t going to leave Shady Grove. They’re very close with Dana, especially now that her father passed.”
“I see.” Charlotte nodded. “And what do you think of Dana?” she asked me.
I glanced from my brother to my sister, not sure who was more deserving of my glare. “I hardly know her.”
“Unless you count every year of school from kindergarten to senior year of high school,” Duke said.
“That doesn’t mean I know her,” I insisted. “She was in my classes, but I can’t say I ever really talked to her.”
Charlotte laughed. “It’s okay, Luke. This isn’t a trial. Is Dana pretty?”
I frowned. Why did Charlotte even want to hear about what I thought of another woman? She was leaving and this was all temporary, but on the other hand—
She’d shared my bed with me. Had been with me under the bleachers. Shouldn’t some deeper, animal part of her be somewhat jealous? I tried to imagine myself in her shoes, and realized the thought of another guy touching her made me want to punch a hole through the fucking wall.
When I told Charlotte, “Not as pretty as you,” she turned her attention to her chicken, eating with even more gusto than she had with her pretzel after the football game.
“Might have to order seconds if you’re going to wolf it down like that,” Duke teased, and she grinned.
“They don’t make it like this where I’m from. So good. I’m trying to preserve the memory of the way this tastes.” In a flash, she whipped out her phone and took a picture of the half-empty plate, complete with the orange-and-white What the Cluck wax paper underneath.
“Hashtag too good not to eat,” she murmured to herself as she scrolled through the filters.
I laughed, then took a bite of my own chicken just in time for it to turn to dirt in my mouth as I looked up to find Wayne was walking toward us, his hands laden with carryout bags. He stopped at our table and grinned down at Charlotte.
“Oh. Hey, Wayne,” she said with a polite half smile.
“Hey.” He lifted the bags a little. “I was gonna call you, wanted to let you know your car should be all set around noon tomorrow. Whenever you’re ready to pick it up after, you’ll be good to go.”
I studied her face, but it remained impassive as she nodded.
“Okay, great. Thanks again for your help.”
When Wayne winked and headed for the door, I pushed my plate away, suddenly not hungry anymore. I knew there was an expiration date on my time with Charlotte—I’d reminded myself of that more times than I could count. But now that I knew the real timeline . . . now that I knew tonight was definitely our last night together?
It all felt different.
Wrong, somehow.
A combination of dread, doom, and despair mingled in my sto
mach. I looked up to catch Duke and Molly exchanging concerned glances, so this fact wasn’t lost on them, but Charlotte continued to pick away at her food, seemingly oblivious.
Was it just me? Didn’t she feel it too?
The thought that this strange sense of grief was one-sided made my temples throb.
“I guess your going-away party is going to have to be tonight then,” Molly said.
Charlotte laughed. “Going away party? I’ve only been here a week.”
“And every day has been better than the last. Come on, you can’t say no.” Molly grabbed a biscuit and took a big bite.
“Then I won’t.” Charlotte grinned from Molly to me, and I feigned a smile in return. “After all, it could be fun.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed with a little too much gusto. “Could be the best night of our lives.”
That seemed about right. Sort of like the way a death row inmate’s last meal was the most delicious one.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlotte
A couple of hours later, Luke and I splashed hand in hand through an unexpected rain shower and made it inside the bar just in time to see that when Molly said “party,” she was so not kidding.
A buffet was set up in the corner of the room, and the honky-tonk’s normal fluorescent lights had been dimmed to make way for the flashing Technicolor disco ball now hanging from the ceiling. She and Duke were sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for us, it seemed.
Everyone I’d seen or met in Shady Grove was crowded around the bar, and even a few people I hadn’t met yet were dancing or clustered around the tables, talking to one another.
Luke and I laughed as Duke pretended to be affronted at our late arrival, and then I let out a low whistle as I took in the room again.
“How did you manage it? This must be the whole town,” I said in amazement.
Molly laughed. “Just about. People around these parts love a party. Even Dana French is here,” she said with a wink.
“Don’t I know it.” Duke grimaced at his brother. “Mrs. French thought I was you and tried to get me to dance with her.”
