Page 14
Story: Petty AF
It was hot. I had dirt under my nails and sweat in my ass crack. Muscles ached that I didn’t even know existed, and the sight of Deaton shirtless and glistening in the midday sun was stupid distracting.
So, of course, I’d had to voice every single one of my complaints. Loudly. Vividly. In mortifying detail.
My yard did look amazing, though.
“I hurt in places that shouldn’t hurt,” I griped as I trudged into the living room after the longest, hottest shower of my life.
“Poor baby,” Deaton teased from his spot on the couch.
While I had offered to scrub the dirt from every inch of his muscled body, he had politely declined, deciding to shower in the guest bathroom instead. Considering how painfully awkward I’d been when I’d said it, I couldn’t say I blamed him.
But now I had a new problem.
I wanted him, and I knew he felt the same way. I just didn’t know how to convince him that, even though I wouldn’t typically be so blunt, I really did mean it.
“Come here, diva.” Swiveling around on the sofa, Deaton patted the cushion between his legs. “Let’s see if I can work out some of those knots.”
Not about to pass up the opportunity to feel his hands on me, I hurried across the room and settled down between his powerful thighs. “Do you want me to take my shirt off?”
“Behave,” he said, laughing as he tugged at a lock of my damp hair.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
His hands settled on my shoulders, his thumbs pressing firmly into the tense muscles at the base of my neck. I groaned before I could stop myself, the sound eliciting another teasing chuckle from my mate.
“Tell me,” Deaton said, his voice light on the surface but edged with something sharper. “Do you always overthink things, or is it part of the spell?”
That didn’t exactly sound like a compliment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re doing it again,” he said, leaning in so his warm breath tickled the shell of my ear. “You’ve been driving yourself crazy all day, overanalyzing everything I say and do. I’m really not that complicated, though.”
He continued to knead the muscles in my neck and shoulders, the knots melting beneath his touch despite my growing anxiety. “Stop being cryptic and just telling me what you mean.”
“You think I don’t want you,” he said bluntly. His lips ghosted up the side of my neck, just a soft whisper that sent an involuntary shiver through me. “You’re wrong.”
My heart stopped, flopped over in my chest, then resumed at a frantic rhythm that made it hard to breathe. For some reason, my neck seemed to be connected directly to my groin, and every brush of lips sent a pulse straight to my cock.
“Then why didn’t you want to shower together?” I asked, unable to hold back the question.
“Oh, believe me, I did.” He chuckled again and slid a hand down my chest, his thumb raking over my nipple through my shirt. “It’s all about timing.”
“It’s because I was being a bitch, isn’t it?” My voice was quiet, shaky, and I trembled as I arched into his touch.
“You weren’t being a bitch.” He snorted out another laugh. “You were just a little cranky.”
“Okay, I get that.” I really wanted to shut up, but of course, that didn’t happen. “I’m pretty sure you could have fucked the bad mood out of me, though.” Closing my eyes, I sank against him with a groan. “I hate this stupid curse.”
“Then maybe we need to find a better way to occupy your mouth.”
Gripping my chin, he turned my head, claiming my lips and igniting the embers that had been burning between us all week. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth, seeking entrance, and I opened for him with a quiet moan of invitation.
His grasp on my chin tightened when he plunged inside, pulling a needy whimper from deep within my chest. Rolling toward him, I managed to turn without breaking the kiss, and he repositioned, making room for me in his lap.
He continued to nibble at my lips as he slid his hands beneath the hem of my shirt and pushed it up my chest. I pulled away then, just long enough for him to strip the cotton off over my head before diving in to attack his mouth again.
Every breath became harsher, shallower, and I rocked my hips, rubbing my swollen cock against his stomach.
“I love kissing you,” I blurted. “Fuck, you feel amazing. I need you, Deaton. I need more.” The words tumbled out in a rush, every horny thought going straight from my brain to my mouth. “I’ve been hard all week, and I can’t wait anymore.”
So, of course, I’d had to voice every single one of my complaints. Loudly. Vividly. In mortifying detail.
My yard did look amazing, though.
“I hurt in places that shouldn’t hurt,” I griped as I trudged into the living room after the longest, hottest shower of my life.
“Poor baby,” Deaton teased from his spot on the couch.
While I had offered to scrub the dirt from every inch of his muscled body, he had politely declined, deciding to shower in the guest bathroom instead. Considering how painfully awkward I’d been when I’d said it, I couldn’t say I blamed him.
But now I had a new problem.
I wanted him, and I knew he felt the same way. I just didn’t know how to convince him that, even though I wouldn’t typically be so blunt, I really did mean it.
“Come here, diva.” Swiveling around on the sofa, Deaton patted the cushion between his legs. “Let’s see if I can work out some of those knots.”
Not about to pass up the opportunity to feel his hands on me, I hurried across the room and settled down between his powerful thighs. “Do you want me to take my shirt off?”
“Behave,” he said, laughing as he tugged at a lock of my damp hair.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
His hands settled on my shoulders, his thumbs pressing firmly into the tense muscles at the base of my neck. I groaned before I could stop myself, the sound eliciting another teasing chuckle from my mate.
“Tell me,” Deaton said, his voice light on the surface but edged with something sharper. “Do you always overthink things, or is it part of the spell?”
That didn’t exactly sound like a compliment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re doing it again,” he said, leaning in so his warm breath tickled the shell of my ear. “You’ve been driving yourself crazy all day, overanalyzing everything I say and do. I’m really not that complicated, though.”
He continued to knead the muscles in my neck and shoulders, the knots melting beneath his touch despite my growing anxiety. “Stop being cryptic and just telling me what you mean.”
“You think I don’t want you,” he said bluntly. His lips ghosted up the side of my neck, just a soft whisper that sent an involuntary shiver through me. “You’re wrong.”
My heart stopped, flopped over in my chest, then resumed at a frantic rhythm that made it hard to breathe. For some reason, my neck seemed to be connected directly to my groin, and every brush of lips sent a pulse straight to my cock.
“Then why didn’t you want to shower together?” I asked, unable to hold back the question.
“Oh, believe me, I did.” He chuckled again and slid a hand down my chest, his thumb raking over my nipple through my shirt. “It’s all about timing.”
“It’s because I was being a bitch, isn’t it?” My voice was quiet, shaky, and I trembled as I arched into his touch.
“You weren’t being a bitch.” He snorted out another laugh. “You were just a little cranky.”
“Okay, I get that.” I really wanted to shut up, but of course, that didn’t happen. “I’m pretty sure you could have fucked the bad mood out of me, though.” Closing my eyes, I sank against him with a groan. “I hate this stupid curse.”
“Then maybe we need to find a better way to occupy your mouth.”
Gripping my chin, he turned my head, claiming my lips and igniting the embers that had been burning between us all week. His tongue traced the seam of my mouth, seeking entrance, and I opened for him with a quiet moan of invitation.
His grasp on my chin tightened when he plunged inside, pulling a needy whimper from deep within my chest. Rolling toward him, I managed to turn without breaking the kiss, and he repositioned, making room for me in his lap.
He continued to nibble at my lips as he slid his hands beneath the hem of my shirt and pushed it up my chest. I pulled away then, just long enough for him to strip the cotton off over my head before diving in to attack his mouth again.
Every breath became harsher, shallower, and I rocked my hips, rubbing my swollen cock against his stomach.
“I love kissing you,” I blurted. “Fuck, you feel amazing. I need you, Deaton. I need more.” The words tumbled out in a rush, every horny thought going straight from my brain to my mouth. “I’ve been hard all week, and I can’t wait anymore.”