Page 57 of Savior
When she breaks the kiss, I gasp for air, wondering when she got the upper hand. She trails the kisses down my chest over the material of my shirt, and I just give up on breathing altogether.
With a heated glance at me, she slides off the chair and before I can say a word otherwise, her hands are at my belt, unbuckling and unbuttoning. She gives an insistent tug at my jeans and boxers until I lift up for her to peel them down to my ankles.
She starts to lean toward me, but as much as I want her mouth on me, I need her to be as mindless as I am more.
“Are you sure?” I ask, even though it pains me.
Instead of answering, she shoves me back and her mouth is on me in a wordless response. My fingers clench on the material of the armrests to keep from tugging at her hair.
She has me pinned by the ferocity of my reaction to her hot, wet heat around me. Her eyes meet mine and she takes the base of my cock in one hand, squeezing as she licks the underside.
Unable to hold back my release, I tangle my hands in her hair to hold her still and she keeps going until I slump back into the seat, completely bowled over.
When I regain feeling in my limbs, she helps me up. When I start to undress her, she stops me.
“No, this was for you this time.”
After a second, I buckle my jeans, too exhausted to argue. “What for?”
“I wanted you. I wanted to make you happy.”
I kiss her as she comes to sit in my lap again. “Not complaining, but you don’t have to go down on me to make me happy.”
She grins. “I did that because I wanted to.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”
“Will you stay the night?” It’s the first time she’s asked instead of acquiescing when I demand it for her safety.
“As long as you don’t make me sleep on the couch,” I tell her.
Piper
It’sa beautiful day and I should be enjoying it. There’s no reason for me not to. And yet here I am, wracked with indecision as I stare out at freedom on the other side of my screen door.
The influx of last-minute vacationers determined to wring the final remnants of summer before the coming of fall have kept me busy for the last two weeks. So busy, I told Diane not to worry about giving me any off time. I could use the money and the work as well as the distraction. She didn’t like it, but she agreed because the inn had been packed without fail, the whole time. As September started to draw to a close, guests gradually began to trickle down to a more manageable number until I couldn’t keep putting her offer of downtime off.
When I’m not working, I’m at the little bungalow with it’s cheerful paint job and quaint furniture dusting, refinishing, or relaxing with Logan, who’s essentially moved into mine since his is still filled with unpacked boxes. Once she saw the many improvements I made on the bungalow, I convinced Diane to let me help with the renovations on the other rentals, too.
But now there are no chores for me to do. There are no guests with urgent demands, and Diane put off my last plea with a stern shake of her head and a pointed look. For weeks, I’d been dreading this moment. It’s all too easy to think about the things I’ve left behind when I pause long enough for them to catch up with me.
As I’m turning away with a promise to myself to try again on my next day off, a loud knock comes at the door. In the following silence, it echoes through the empty hall. Logan’s asleep, and I don’t want to wake him, but I pause anyway. We haven’t actuallyslepttogether, but he sleeps in my bed every night, anyway, and we spend those nights doing things that make me blush just thinking about them.
The knock comes again, and in the deep porch shadows, a shape shifts. Panic flares molten hot, and instinct tells me to escape into the recesses of the house.
I whirl around, heart in my throat, blood rushing in my ears. How could I be so stupid? I’ve only been here a short while, and I’m already letting myself get too comfortable. The first thing I should have done when I heard the knock was plan a quick exit. It’s what I always done when I get a bad vibe. Instead I stood there like a damn scared little bunny. I pivot, heading for either the bedroom to wake Logan or to the backdoor to book it.
“Shit.” The familiar voice stops me in my tracks, and I feel like an idiot as I press myself against the wall.
“Chloe?” I cross the short distance to the door and swing it open. “What are you doing here?”
Chloe tugs me into her arms, and I wrap mine around her shoulders. I pull back after a few seconds and look her over. She hasn’t changed in the months since I’ve seen her, aside from the protruding and heavily pregnant belly.
I stare, eyes rounded. “When did this happened?”
She places a protective hand on her stomach and laughs. “Why don’t you invite me in, and I’ll give you all the dirty details.”
Gesturing with one hand and pushing the door open with another, I grin, chastised. “Of course, of course. Guess I’ve forgotten my manners.”