Page 53 of Hauling Ashe

My mouth falls open. “You wouldn’t.” I lightly laugh but those silver eyes lock on mine and I see he just might punish me. I don’t know how I feel about the possibility although I understand it’s pretty common in the new age of dating. I don’t understand it. I don’t have to understand it. My body reacts and I’m almost tempted to shrug again. But I don’t. I don’t want to stop the direction he’s going, taking things slow as he kneads and massages, lowering to lift one large globe and latching onto it with his mouth, sucking at the swell before sweeping to the nipple and twirling his tongue around the hard nub. He does the same to the other breast, then returns to my mouth, kissing me hard and intensely.

I slip my hands under his shirt, sliding the soft cotton upward until he pulls back and tugs the collar from behind his neck, removing it in that way only men can, making the move sexier than any motion has a right to be. And I’m already turned on more than I’ve ever been in my life. My body hums. My skin tingles. I’m so wet, it’s going to be embarrassing when he finally touches me.

When my breasts connect with the heat of his chest, I hum into his mouth which has returned to mine for another searing kiss. He’s branded on me, forever inked, leaving his permanent mark with unspoken lyrics. I’m never going to be the same after this trip, this night, this man.

Next, he removes my shorts and underwear in one slick motion as he lowers to kiss my belly and nip at my sides, sucking at the fleshy parts that typically embarrass me. He abruptly stands and tugs down his jeans. He’s still wearing that medallion on a strap and the leather band at his wrist, plus his dark blue boxer briefs, but evidence of his excitement is hardly contained. The outline of him is long and large, but I only get a quick look before his mouth is on mine again and he’s lowering me to the bed. I sit first until he breaks free of my mouth and presses me back by my shoulder. He dips over me, kissing me hard once more before traveling down my body—chin then throat then chest.

“You’re the route I plan to travel tonight,” Tucker says into my skin as he moves to my belly. Pulling at flabby flesh once again with his lips, making me self-conscious while feeling worshipped at the same time.

“Route forty-three,” I anxiously joke.

“Route Mae and me.” His head moves lower. His mouth sucks at my hip. My hands cover my belly with its tire rut effects of having children. Without looking up, Tucker forces my hands off my stomach, holding them at my sides while his head dips between my thighs. My legs dangle off the bed and he’s kneeling between my knees. I lift my head but fall back when the first lap hits me. He doesn’t even start gently with the tip of his tongue but goes full force, using the flat of that strong muscle to swipe up me. The next shock is the tip, twirling at my clit, and my eyes roll back. I can’t remember oral sex, but I’ll never forget this moment.

My legs twitch and his tongue moves. A finger joins the band down there where I throb and I seep, and I want this man more than anything.

“Give me one of those orgasms that are all yours, sunshine.”

I scoff because I plan to. He can take them all for all I care as long as he doesn’t stop sliding his tongue through my slit. My knees lift and my hips rock and his hands clap over my thighs, holding me still. The tension builds and I mutter incomprehensive words of right there and ohmygod.

Tucker hums against me. Another lap. Another lick and I shatter. More than a crash, but a break of my body occurs. I’m tiny fragments of myself. My head lifts. My hands clutch behind my thighs. I want to pull Tucker inside me and live in this mess between my legs. I’m wrecked and panting when he drags back, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh before nipping at my flesh.

He stands tall before me and it’s almost unfair how perfect his body is. Those abs. That smattering of chest hair. The trail leading into those briefs, which lower and expose him to me. His cock stands at attention, thick and ready.

He steps over to his bag and returns quickly with a few packets. Tossing one on the dresser, he opens the other, and I wonder if this means I’ll get him more than once before I’ve even had him the first time. Once will never be enough, and if anyone ever called me selfish, this is the moment I might agree. I want him all to myself on repeat.

I scoot up the bed, and he follows me. When my head hits the pillows, he guides himself between my spread legs, swiping the tip of his dick up and down through the moisture at my center.

“Still good with this?” he asks.

I could comment that we’ve passed the point of no return, but I don’t. Sarcasm has been stripped from my vocabulary as have all words. There is no going back. No U-turn. No turn around.

“You’re so wet,” he moans next.

“You did that.” His mouth was heaven down there.

“And you loved it.” He’s teasing me, flirting with me.

My voice drops when I respond. “I do.” I could love this man, which is a silly thought to have in the position we’re in. This is only sex. This is only one night, or maybe the remainder of this road trip, but it won’t ever be more than a moment in history. Tucker and me. I don’t allow myself to digest that further because he is sliding into me.

“Mae.” My name catches in his throat, and he swipes hair back from my face as he enters me slow and easy, taking his time to fill me. I’m stretched in a way I haven’t been in half a dozen years and him inside me wipes away the only one before him. There’s no doubt Tucker is going to teach me about my body tonight. He will replace all my memories of sex before this moment. And just like this road trip, I’ll be able to say I traveled him well once.

He pauses inside me, brushing his fingers on the sides of my face. “Still good?”

So good. I nod and he moves. Rhythm I’m certain is automatic in a man who loves music takes over. He rocks his hips, and my body responds. His shifts one way, my body follows. He leans back, looks between us, and watches as he glides in and out of me. I risk a glance. We’re really doing this. With lights low in some swanky hotel, I’m having sex with Tucker Ashford. Ashe. The name suits him because he’s been born again and again from dust.

And he’s reviving me.

My heart races and blood flows only to one place in my body.

“Tucker,” I warn, questioning myself. The only time I’ve had a multiple orgasm was the other night in the shower. I’ve read about them, heard about them, but my body typically doesn’t give me another turn. Maybe that has more to do with my past, and I instantly erase the thought. This is me. This is Tucker. And I’m going to come again.

“That’s it, sunshine. Give me another one of those precious orgasms.” I have no idea what he means, but the way he’s bent his knees and my lower body balances against his thighs, he’s rubbing me right where I need to set me off once more. My hands clamp on his face but he’s not lowering to kiss me, instead concentrating on the way we move together.

“Get there,” he demands and I’m on my way as he moves faster, rubs harder.

“Ohmygod,” I cry out as I feel everything rushing, rippling, reaching only one spot and I burst. Colored rainbows of light sparkle around me. Tucker speeds up, slapping his hands under my backside and squeezing me hard as he pummels into me until he abruptly stills. Holding us pressed together, as close as we can be, he pulses inside me. His neck strains. His eyes close. He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.

When those silver eyes open again and fall on mine, he slowly smiles, giving me that grin where one side rides higher than the other. We don’t look at one another long before he lowers to kiss me just as intensely as before. His kiss is a full body sensation, not just an experience of lips joining, and I treasure the feeling after what we just did.