He sat me on his knees and held me there, working me up and down on his erection. I wanted this, wanted him to use my body, to make us one. I wrapped my arms around his neck and bounced up and down, using my knees for leverage, our mouths finding each other in a hot, passionate kiss. His tongue mimicked the rhythm of his cock driving into me. I ground against him, bit his lip and felt him go off. He surged into me, the heat filling me as he thrust up hard, making my clit light up with a fiery orgasm. My head fell back, and I was crying his name as he finished inside me, my sex drinking up every drop he gave me.
He groaned as he lowered us onto the bed, withdrawing from me. “It’s been too long,” he said.
“It’s only been a couple of weeks,” I laughed.
“You heard me. It’s been too long. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for. When you went down on me, I couldn’t stand it. I promised myself a long time ago that if I ever had another chance, I’d be inside you every chance I got. I wasn’t going to waste a second, not even if you were sucking my cock like that. I thought I’d lose my mind.”
“You know I like doing that to you,” I said with a grin.
“You were a fast learner,” he said, “It took me forever to figure out how to lick you right where you need it.”
“I didn’t mind you practicing,” I laughed.
“I’ll practice anytime you want. Come to the garage. Tell me you need me to check out a problem you’ve been having. I’ll shut us in the office and eat you till your screams break the windows out.” His voice was craven, hot.
“You really want to have to replace those windows?”
“I wouldn’t mind at all. And anybody who complained their car took too long, they don’t have priorities like I do. I mean it, Chel. You snap your fingers and I’ll be on my knees for you.”
“Damn,” I said, “even though I’m not the finger snapping kind, you make me want to be a dominatrix when you talk like that.”
“You always treated me like an equal. You never realized how lucky I was to ever get near you. How I didn’t deserve you. Any man would be lucky to get you to snap your fingers.”
“What if that isn’t what I want?” I ventured.
“Then tell me what you want,” he said, “You’d be surprised what I can do.”
“Show me. Show me something you’ve been dreaming about, Drew. You say you’ve fantasized about me all this time. Let me give you something you want.”
“I have everything I want right here. I couldn’t ask for anything more,” he said.
“Tell me,” I said, “please.”
“God, when you say please—" he breathed. “I can’t tell you no.”
“Please,” I breathily whispered, my lips pressing to his.
“Yes,” he said. I felt his body wrap around me, just press me down into the bed as his mouth rocked over mine. I was swamped by the solid weight of him bearing me down into the mattress, his tongue in my mouth. I could only hold on and suck his tongue and try to breathe. Slowly, he kissed his way down my neck, sucking my throat and sending chills all over my skin. I always loved how he kissed my neck, the sexy thrill it gave me. I was already so aroused by him. Drew’s hands were all over me, my neck and arms and breasts, mouthing my nipple through the silk again.
“If you don’t want it ripped, take it off,” he growled.
“I don’t care if you rip it off me,” I said, feeling wild and eager.
He sat back for a second, gripped the neckline of my silky yellow top and tore it open like it was paper. I was shaking with the arousal of knowing he couldn’t wait to get his hands on my bare skin, that he was tearing off my clothes. I laughed ecstatically. His eyes darkened, possessive, and he kissed my chin and the sensitive place beneath my jaw.
“I want you to ride me,” he said, “so I can look at your beautiful face when you come.”
Drew caressed my side and stomach, and then flipped me over on top of him, making it clear that I might be on top, but he was the man in charge. Then he reached over and flicked on the lamp beside his bed.
“Can you turn it back off?” I said.
“You’ve got nothing to be insecure about. I want to memorize every detail of you. The way you are now, not the memory of you.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic, not if he liked my body as much as I liked his now. And it was flattering as hell, to tell the truth. So I gave a little shrug and then straddled his abs. I leaned over so he could capture my nipple in his mouth and suck it. The more he teased me with his tongue, the more I got wound up. I was rubbing my pussy all over his stomach while he palmed my breasts and fondled them, taking my breast deep in his mouth and drawing on it, giving me a strong pulling sensation that ran straight to my clit. I was painting proof of my arousal all over his abs. He grinned, my nipple in his mouth.
“I love getting you worked up like this. You show me just what you like,” he said. Then he ran his hands down my ass, spread my thighs from behind and ran his finger along my trembling folds. “You feel so wet for me. I love doing this to you.” He petted my sex, breached me with one finger, teasing, and then brushed his lips against my ear, “Ride my cock. Now.”
A thrill ran through me at his command. I rose up on my knees, his hands still on my ass, guiding me down. His cock was a long, proud curve, dark and thick. Teasing him, I grabbed his cock and slid it between my thighs, rubbing it against my sex but not letting him in. He groaned, a tense smile on his face. “Again,” he said, and I traced my folds with the head of his cock, my inner lips clenching at the barest touch. I wanted him now, but I wanted to make this good for him. It was his fantasy, after all. “Enough teasing,” he said, as I felt more wetness weep from the head of his cock and onto my fingers.
So I spread my legs wide and eased down on the broad head of his shaft. My head went back at the sensation of his hot, hard length spreading my sex open. I panted, slowly taking more of him, an inch at a time. He held me steady with his hands for a moment, and then surprised me. Drew ran a hand down my stomach and over my mound, making a V-shape of his fingers and started rubbing me from my clit all the way to the place where he penetrated me. Again and again, he stroked me like that until I was pulsing around him, coming before I’d even taken all of him in. My eyes were wide, holding his gaze. One of his hands held my hip while the other pleasured me, intense and bright. The ecstasy rippled through me from my clit all the way up into my sex, clenching around him. He thrust into me then, deep and hard as I spasmed. I cried out as I rocked frantically back and forth, taking more, wanting more. He rubbed my clit until I was begging him to stop because I couldn’t breathe, the waves of pleasure were too strong and I was afraid I’d black out. Still, he wouldn’t stop. He jerked his hips up in a hard rhythm while he thumbed my clit up and down until I was thrashing, out of control on his cock, riding him with abandon as my pleasure wrung itself out on his shaft that pulsed and exploded inside me. He wrapped me in his arms, his mouth covering mine, kissing me fiercely through his own orgasm that was so powerful that I thought he would break my back thrusting in me so hard again and again. The kiss was sweet and filthy, the perfect end to a perfect night.
We rolled onto our backs, our fingers laced together. He drew the sheet up over me before I could get chilled. I turned my head to look at him. He was breathing hard, that muscled chest heaving up and down like he’d run a long distance. He grinned at me. “Better than I could have dreamed. I love seeing you spread out over me. It was so sexy. That’s one I’ll remember forever.”
“Good. I like the idea of being on your private highlights reel.”
“Baby, you know you’re my entire highlight reel don’t you? Could you doubt that? Nothing compares to this, to what we have together. Nothing ever came close. Believe me.”
“I want to,” I said, faltering. “I know this feels amazing. And when I’m with you, I’m so happy. I wish I could know that you’re as happy as I am.”
“Why would you wonder? I practically beamed joy all
day today at work. John was giving me hell about it, because I knew I got to see you tonight. I had you to look forward to. I knew you would be here and talk to me and maybe let me kiss you.”
“Uh, you did more than kiss me.”
“Yeah, and I’m a lucky son of a bitch and I know it,” he said, kissing my temple, “Now come here. You’re too far away.”
I rolled onto my side and his arm went around me, settling me with my head on his chest. “Oh, that feels nice,” I said.
Before he could answer me, I was fast asleep, drifting off with the pleasant feeling that things could work out. That I could be this happy forever with him.
22
Drew
It was safe to say it had been the best three weeks of my adult life. Assuming my adult life began around the time I got my own place a year after I broke up with Michelle. There was at least a year in between of drinking and acting like an idiot and feeling sorry for myself before I started to get my shit together. So in the past seventeen years, these had been the happiest weeks of my life. It was no coincidence that it was because Michelle was back in my life.
If I’d been trying to keep it a secret, I was failing. John and Ethan and Dre were giving me crap nonstop about the whistling.
“I didn’t even know you could whistle, and now all of a sudden it’s like a damn Disney movie in the garage,” John said. “I figure your forest friends will start coming in the open windows and tidying up the shop.”
“I like tryna figure out what song it’s supposed to be,” Dre laughed. “Sometimes I think it’s some random old country I don’t know, and then he busts out with the chorus and it’s some Dua Lipa shit.”
“My wife listens to Dua Lipa. She don’t run around whistling it though,” John put in.
“You know on TikTok how it seems like all the videos have the same background song? That’s what it’s like here. He ain’t that good at carrying a tune so it all sounds about the same,” Ethan added.
“So you’re gonna stand around busting my balls about whistling when I’m signing the paychecks?” I said sarcastically.
“Fine, back to work. And no busting out in song, even if he goes into the music from the Lion King or something,” John instructed.
The good-natured ribbing was happening all the time now, because I was happy. I was noticeably happy. My brother noticed on the phone. My parents noticed when I brought them cantaloupe from a farmer’s market and took out their trash for them. And I knew that Michelle had noticed. Because we’d been spending every night together.
I was going by the library after work and picking her up. I took her lunch and ate with her if I had the chance. In the mornings, we woke up together, me a little earlier than she had to. The tangle of golden hair on her pillow, fanned out around her face, and the droop of her lower lip, the furrow of her brow as she dreamt. She was too beautiful to be real, too much of a dream come true. It was almost painful to get out of bed and leave her there, knowing that I could steal an hour, stay between the sheets with her.
Last week, I asked John to open the shop so I could come in later. Michelle and I spent the time taking a long hot shower together, one that ended with her palms braced on the shower wall while I buried my cock in her from behind. I had kissed between her shoulder blades and reached around and massaged her clit until I felt the orgasm roll through her, and then I drove my cock home, pouring out inside her. There were no words to describe what it felt like to wake up to Michelle kissing my neck and whispering to me. Nothing could capture that feeling of rightness, of harmony with the entire universe that I felt when I had her legs wrapped low around my hips while I breached her sex with the head of my aching erection. Burrowing into her, tracing her belly and breasts, rolling my hips to hit every sensitive spot, I had never felt more at home than I did when I was balls deep in my high school sweetheart. The way she said my name was enough to tear me apart. She’d made me come more times than I could count just by whispering my name, kissing my mouth while we were in the throes of passion. Her hand, sweet and saucy in my hair while I moved above her, or her palm on my abs as she rode me. Everything about her seemed made for me, made to be my undoing.
The more time we spent together, the more I wanted her. The more I craved a guarantee that she’d stay. We’d been staying at my place, at her place, going back and forth. I knew it was too soon, but I wanted to ask her to move in with me. Noah could build on a walk-in closet for her, make the bedroom bigger, whatever she needed to feel at home. I knew she’d grown up in a big, fancy house that was practically a mansion, but she didn’t act like the house meant anything to her beyond a convenient place to live. If I thought it was important to her, I’d never ask her to give it up. And on the strength of a relationship less than a month long, I didn’t have any right to ask her anything at this point. That didn’t stop me from wanting to.
I’d convinced her to keep some things at my place, and I had a toothbrush and change of clothes at her house. A whole drawer, in fact. And she’d gotten me shaving stuff to keep there, and I noticed a new bar of Irish Spring in her shower that was for me, too. She could’ve had a drawer in my dresser, but I liked having her stuff mixed in with mine, her silky pajamas alongside my t-shirts. At her house, she slept in my t-shirt, a worn gray one that said Casey’s Garage in navy letters on the back. Seeing her in that and nothing else was one of my biggest turn-ons. Not that there were a shortage of those.
Michelle brought me lemonade at work today. It was hot outside, and the window air unit was working overtime just to keep the shop tolerable. I had a bandanna tied over my hair just to keep sweat out of my eyes while I worked. In came Michelle, looking fresh as spring in a white sundress.
“I had to go to the bank and the post office, so I stopped by and got lemonade. I thought you could use a cold drink.”
I had grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to me. She giggled, girlish and happy. Then I stopped myself.
“You’re wearing white. I’ll get you all greasy. Sorry,” I said, backing off.
“No, you get back here, Drew Casey,” she said sternly. “And you get me as greasy as you want. I’ll have it dry cleaned or I’ll throw it out. You mean a lot more to me than some stupid dress. Now come here and kiss me.”
I had grinned at her bossy response, at how she declared in front of every knucklehead who worked for me that I meant a lot to her, that she wanted my greasy hands all over her. I had grabbed her waist and she looped her arms around my neck. Her lips were cool on mine, and my hot tongue plundered her mouth. In about ten seconds, John told the guys to take an early lunch and they all hurried out of the shop and left in their trucks. That gave us the shop all to ourselves. I had locked the door, and she had pulled the blinds. The mischievous look over her shoulder told me she had exactly this in mind. I took a drink of the lemonade and then set it aside. There was no denying what we both wanted.
“Happy anniversary,” I had whispered against her cheekbone, “three weeks ago today you let me make you dinner. I’m calling that our first date.”
“Our first kiss was still on the Fourth of July,” she teased.
“Yeah, it’ll be like twenty-two years since the first time I kissed you. God, I wish I’d been kissing you every day since,” I growled.
Michelle started on my work jeans, sliding the zipper down. “It’s awful hot in here, Mr. Casey, we should get you out of these clothes,” she said in her deepest southern drawl.
“Why, Miss Michelle, are you flirting with me?” I played along.
“No, sir. A woman never flirts. I’m seducing you. Now tell me where you want me.”
“Everywhere,” I said truthfully.
“Well, narrow it down. Where have you imagined having me? I know you’ve imagined sneaking around with me. We both always loved hat, and I admit that I have certain places in the library I wouldn’t mind introducing you to.”
“You’ll have to give me a tour after hours,” I said archly.
�
��I think that could be arranged. But for right now, here we are. On your turf. So tell me exactly what you’d like to do with me here.”
“Everything. My mind has just quit on me. It’s too incredible and full of possibility. I don’t know how I could possibly decide.”
“You better decide or I’ll think you’re not interested and I’ll decide to be offended,” she warned.
“I wouldn’t want to offend you. After all, you’re my lover,” I said, stalking toward her. “Now over here is a Monte Carlo I’m restoring.”
“Nice,” she observed.
“Red leather seats and all,” I said suggestively.
“Do you think the owner would mind if we got down and dirty in his back seat?”
“I’m the owner. And I’d be honored,” I said.
“So, you’re not a Corvette man? I never pegged you for collecting Monte Carlos,” she teased.
“I met a guy at a car show a few months ago who wanted me to find him one and restore it. I bought this one off an ad, one-owner, the woman inherited it when her grandpa died. When I’ve got it ready to sell, I stand to make a big profit off of it. But that’s no reason not to have some fun in it first.”
“Are you sure? I mean, if you bought an original Monet to resell, we wouldn’t desecrate it.”
“First of all, I don’t consider what we do together as desecrating anything. Then we have the fact that I wouldn’t choose a small painting for a secret rendezvous. This has plenty of room in the back, and I think it deserves to be christened properly.”
Falling in Love: A Secret Baby Romance (Rockford Falls Romance) Page 12
