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Her lips part, and her green eyes are wide and wanting.
Exhaling a rough noise, my hands fist and loosen at my sides. That invisible force strengthens between us, pulling with intense power. It’s physically painful to resist.
“I should work…” I try to say, but it’s a weak protest.
She blinks once, nodding. “Of course.”
I don’t move. My jaw clenches, I’m moving as the words slip out on sandpaper. “Fuck it.”
In only a few steps I’m on her, colliding with a crash of groans and whimpers. Her hands are in my hair. My hands are on her body, under her hoodie, sliding higher until my fingers find her sports bra.
She steps back, whipping the jacket over her head and removing the bra. I’m doing the same, unbuttoning my shirt as fast as I can, swearing at the tightness of the buttons.
Her hands join mine, helping me, and when it’s halfway there, I rip it over my head.
We’re together again, skin against skin, mouths united, and another deep groan rumbles from my chest. Our lips part, and our tongues collide, tasting and kissing, mint and water and grape candy.
I lift her off her feet, and her legs wrap around my waist. Miss Gina’s guest house is right off the main house. Her pelvis rocks against my erection, and I carry her to the door leading out to the patio. Soft lips trail kisses along my neck, up to my ear, pulling the lobe between her teeth.
“I can’t believe it,” she gasps. “It’s a Thanksgiving miracle.”
A laugh vibrates in my chest, and I open the door to the small cottage. It’s bright and cheery and cool, with a king-sized bed made up in white linens. Flowers are on the side table, and I place Rachel on her feet while I step into the bathroom for a towel.
When I return, her back is to me. She’s standing in front of the dresser, where a plate of cookies sits, and she’s holding a note.
“It says,Enjoy.” Her lips press into a grin, and she glances over her shoulder. “That sly little lady—she planned the whole thing!”
“At least we have her permission.” I cross the bedroom, ripping the blankets back and spreading the towel over the mattress. “I’ve been tested. I’m good, but I’m glad to use a condom?—”
“It’s okay. I have an implant.”
She turns to face me, and when I see her in full, my breath stutters in my chest. My fingers curl, and my cock jumps.
“Damn, Rachel.” Hunger thickens my voice. “You’re beautiful.”
Pink flares in her cheeks, and her bottom lip slips between her teeth. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” It’s a light tease, and she steps forward, reaching for the waist of my jeans. “My turn to see you. Finally.”
I don’t move as her slim fingers unfasten my belt, then the top button. She lightly grazes my stomach as she works, and my muscles tense. I’m a live wire, and the air crackles around us.
She lowers the zipper slowly, and as she slides her hands over my hips, pushing the heavy denim down, my cock bobs free, thick and ready.
“Oh, my God!” She wraps her fingers around it.
Her thumb slides over my tip, which is coated in precum. It feels so damn good. Then she smooths her hand down my shaft, and I exhale a groan.
She looks up at me again. “Can I?”
Her voice trails off, and her eyes are fixed on the movement of her hand, gliding up and down, thumb crossing the tip.
“You can do anything you want.” I reach for her waist. “We have all day.”
Holding my arms, she moves me to sit on the bed. Then she drops to her knees, guiding the tip of my cock to her full lips and parting them. I’m hypnotized watching her pull it into her mouth, keeping her green eyes round and fixed on mine.
My hips rock, and I groan, the muscle in my jaw tensing as I fight the orgasm surging through my pelvis. Reaching out, I thread my fingers in the side of her hair as her head bobs faster.
She leans forward, taking me to the back of her throat, and my ass flexes. “Fuck, Rachel.” It’s too good, and I’ve waited too long. “Come here.” Reaching for her, I lift her to her feet again.
“Did I do it wrong?” Her eyes are watery, and her lips are glistening red and swollen.
