Page 26 of Pour Decisions (Stryker Family #3)

KATRINA

“You’re sure I just need this stuff?” I ask JD, gesturing to all my stuff spread out across the bed.

JD asked me to pack for an overnight trip to Nashville. I have no idea what we’ll be doing or where we’ll be going, but he told me to pack a dressy outfit, then some comfortable stuff to wear around town. I threw in some lingerie too.

We’ve never done a trip together. Granted, it’s super short and Nashville isn’t far, but it still feels like a step forward. Not too far forward, though. A safe amount.

But what if it’s not the same between us when we have a bunch of free time? There’s a difference between quiet tension and full-on dating. And he’s clearly going above and beyond regular “dates” for me now that I’m officially giving him another shot.

I can’t shake the little knot in my stomach at the idea that he’s just doing all this to speed our relationship along.

I take a deep breath and let it out of my nose.

I don’t want to let my brain ruin this trip.

I need to stop being so paranoid. He always planned dates back when we were together.

This is just JD with more money—this trip is the current day version of our trips to the lake with some packed food.

“Yep. We’re just staying overnight.” JD lightly pats my ass as he walks by. “We have reservations for our first thing somewhat soon, so we should head out in a bit.”

I finish packing and he takes my bag out to the car after insisting that his back is a hundred percent okay. I definitely overpacked, but it’s enough cushion for Bubba to rest his head on for the drive to Waylon’s house. We drop Bubba off with him before getting on the highway to Nashville.

“Some hints, before you ask for them,” JD says, checking his blind spot and settling into the middle lane. “One involves dance, the other involves spicy food.”

“Just getting ahead of my questions?” I ask, a little smile touching my lips.

“Yep.” He rests his hand on my knee, the size of it huge against me.

“I have about a billion more. But those are two of my favorite things, so I’ll hold back.”

He lets me choose the music. The drive flies by, though, until we get near downtown Nashville.

We inch through downtown, which gives us time to look at places we could go.

Finally we make it to our hotel. We barely park in front before two attendants rush to the car, opening the doors for us.

One of them takes the car to valet park it.

“JD, this is super fancy,” I say, keeping my voice low as he walks us through the lobby.

The place is beyond extravagant, with lush colors and expensive-looking decor. It looks like we’ve stepped back into a more opulent time.

“It’s for one night, so I wanted to choose something special.” He shrugs and threads his fingers through mine.

I bite my bottom lip. I hate that he’s spending this much on me, even though I appreciate the gesture. “Very fancy.”

“But do you like it?” he asks, an eyebrow going up.

“Of course. I love it.”

“Then don’t worry about it,” he says. He lets me walk onto the elevator first, and punches the button for the top floor.

He tugs me in front of him and wraps his arms around me from behind.

Once we reach the floor, he guides me out of the elevator.

Our room is at the end of the hall, and my jaw drops when he pushes the door open.

The room is massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows showing off the Nashville skyline below us.

No other buildings next to us are as tall, so the view is completely unobstructed.

The enormous bed has a canopy in a rich red shade, and looks like it’s made of clouds instead of fabric.

A cute seating area with couches and a whole coffee station are on one side, and the bathroom is on the other.

I take a peek. It’s just as opulent as the rest of the room.

Maybe even more so—a huge shower with a bench inside, plus a clawfoot bathtub that I was definitely going to soak in.

“Our first thing starts in about an hour and a half,” he says, watching me from close to the door. The tiny JD not-quite-smile is on his face. “If you want to start getting ready.”

“You book this room and give me more than enough time to get dressed?” I walk up to him and plant a kiss on his lips. “This is already the best trip.”

He squeezes my hips. “I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands to myself, so I gave us extra time.”

I grin. “Well, that too. But I’m going to take my time since I have it.”

I strip slowly and intentionally, tossing my clothes on a chair, and walk to the bathroom, feeling his eyes on me. I leave the door open for him, and he joins me moments later.

“I thought you said you were glad that you had all this time to get dressed,” he says, reaching behind his neck and pulling his t- shirt off. “Now you’re giving me a little strip tease like you want me to fuck you before we go.”

“Because I love to tease you,” I say, making a show of bending forward to test the shower temperature.

I clip my curls back and get into the shower.

He gets in with me, his hands on my hips. Water cascades down between us as he presses his front against my back, his cock already hard.

I actually do need to shower, but I press my ass against his cock and slowly wind my hips. He lets out a soft moan and presses his lips against my neck as he reaches in front of me to grab the soap. He soaps up my entire body, taking his time to massage my breasts and ass.

I stand under the spray, letting the suds wash down the drain, and reach behind me to stroke his cock.

“Not yet,” he says. Still, he presses it against my ass and continues to soap me up.

His touch is torture in the best way, getting me clean while revving me up.

He presses me against the wall and pins my wrists against the tile, kissing me with more and more urgency.

Usually I’d pull my wrists away and have fun with the struggle, but today I just savor the feeling of him boxing me in.

I missed him so damn much, and even though this whole second chance thing is terrifying, I’m still not going to take a second of this for granted. No thinking far into the future or worrying about each step—just soaking in the moment.

“You’re being obedient today,” he murmurs, kissing the side of my neck.

“I’m too needy to fuck around,” I say.

“Good, because I need you too.” He squeezes me again. “But let’s do this in the bed where it’s more comfortable.”

We rinse off the rest of the soap, hop out of the shower, and dry off hastily.

“Need me to sit on your face again?” I ask, bounding onto the bed with a grin.

“I feel like you want to, and I’m not going to discourage you.”

He gets into position, propping himself up on pillows. I climb into place and shiver when I feel his hot breath on my equally heated flesh.

“You’re hovering again,” he says, grabbing my hips and tugging me down until I’m literally sitting on his face. “You aren’t going to hurt me. What good was the physical therapy for if you can’t ride my face?”

Or at least I think that’s what he says—I’m smothering him with my pussy and he already feels so good that I can’t think.

I lift my head enough to watch his cock bob up and down as he moans against me.

Since he can’t bend up, I don’t try to scoot down to take him in my mouth. Instead, I grip his shaft at the base.

His moan is going to send me over the edge faster than his mouth at this point. The combination of his beard against my skin and the vibration is making my knees weak even though I’m kneeling on the bed. I sag against him, pressing back.

“Come for me, kitten.” He lifts me up for a second so he can slip a finger inside me.

Yep, that does it. I come so hard that I dig my nails into that divot along his hips. I recover for just a second before I crawl down his body.

“Kat—oh fuck ,” he groans as I slide down onto his cock, my ass toward him.

“Oh fuck is right.” I wiggle my hips a little bit. This angle feels deep, hitting my G-spot just right. “You like the view?”

“I love the view.” His voice is thick and his hands go up to my ass. He touches it almost like it’s a piece of rare art that needs to be handled carefully.

“What, are you afraid to manhandle me a little?” I ask, rolling my hips.

He just moans in response.

I’m always motivated to make sure my clients are fully healed, but knowing that once he’s a hundred percent he’ll be able to pound me hard and make more of these sounds?

I’m going to make sure he gets the most out of his last few sessions with my boss.

He grips my ass the faster I glide up and down his cock, almost like he’s trying to get me to slow down. But he doesn’t tell me to, so I keep up at the pace I need to come.

“Use me,” he says. “Milk me dry.”

He doesn’t have to give me any commands—he fills me up so perfectly and helps me bounce just right so that I come apart. I feel him finish seconds after with a shudder.

I barely manage to peel myself off of him, clean up, and return to his side. Instead of hopping up to get ready, we cuddle and kiss, hardly saying anything.

We fool around for so long that we have to rush to get ready. But with the way he looks at me when I slip into my red dress tells me I didn’t need that much time to impress him.

We go downstairs and slip into a cab, which takes us ten minutes away to a nondescript building off the main strip.

The crowd looks a little closer to our age, and when we step into the building, we’re greeted with an open dance floor and low lighting.

The bar is on the far side, but unlike at most clubs, it’s not swamped with people. Most people are dancing.

“A dance club?” I grab his arm hard, then loosen my grip.

“Yeah. I found it online and it has good reviews.” He threads his fingers in mine. “It’s kind of informal.”

“It’s perfect.”