by Joya Ryan
Her soft hands then started to peel back his underwear. Trailing them down his legs and off, while her mouth grazed his belly button. He was hard and hot and ready, and she went slow with her soft touches.
“Stay right here. Don’t move,” she whispered, then got up quickly and left the room.
What the hell? He felt like an idiot sitting there, but he did as she asked. She came back into view and placed the strawberries, whipped cream, and ice cream on the coffee table.
“I want to try something,” she said and knelt in front of him. She was holding a spoon, her cute little pants and amazing breasts on display for him.
Grant had a chill just watching her open the small carton so close to his lap.
“Calm down, I’m not going to freeze your dick off,” she said with a smile.
Grant laughed. “I’m all yours, baby. Just trying to figure out what you’re doing.”
“I heard about this trick . . . ,” she started, dipping the spoon into the ice cream and taking a bite. Grant watched, transfixed. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen was kneeling before him, between his spread knees, eating ice cream.
If this was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.
“Apparently, there are different sensations to be had,” she said, taking another bite of ice cream, letting the spoon slowly slip from her lips. Grant was hard and ready to experience whatever these sensations were.
She took another bite of ice cream, then, with it still in her mouth, she bent forward. With her lips an inch from his raging hard-on, she exhaled slowly, her cool vanilla breath hitting the tip. Shivers raced up his spine, but his cock grew hotter and harder.
“Jesus,” he mumbled, trying to figure out where his brain was going.
He watched her throat bob on a swallow, then she snaked her tongue out and licked the crown.
“Oh my God,” he said and gripped the couch at his sides. Her tongue was cold, and it buzzed against his hot skin. He’d never felt anything like it.
“Not too bad, right?” she asked with a sexy smile.
“There’s nothing bad about what you’re doing,” he confirmed and once again checked the urge to cup her face and thrust himself deep into her throat. Grant was used to hard and rough, and Hannah seemed to like that. Asked him for it. But at this moment, the teasing and slow torture got him turned on in a way he never had been.
Delayed gratification had never been a part of his vocabulary, but he was seeing the upside to it. Because he was the luckiest son of bitch alive to have this woman see to him like she was. He wouldn’t do anything to interrupt her.
“This is your show, baby,” he said around a ragged breath.
She kissed around his navel, his hard cock bobbing against her neck, as if begging for attention. His fists squeezed the couch cushions harder.
She took another bite of ice cream, and when she came back, it was still in her mouth.
With an eyebrow raised and a saucy grin, she took him into her mouth, sucking hard. The cool vanilla swirled around his cock as she sucked up and down. The feel of her mouth, mixed with the cool cream sliding in and out of her throat, was the best damn thing he’d ever felt.
“Jesus, baby, you have me close already.” It was embarrassing, actually, how quickly she could get him to come. He’d never wanted someone so badly in his life, and he was already on the brink. Which he wouldn’t allow, since he hadn’t even gotten a chance to taste Hannah, or even get her close.
She hummed around him, swallowing while she still took him into her mouth, and Grant’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Wait. He needed her. Needed to taste her. Feel her. He wasn’t ready for this to be over yet, and he wanted to play this game, too.
“My turn,” he said, his voice hoarse from trying to keep his composure.
Hannah sat back and looked at him.
“Don’t you like what I’m doing?” she asked.
“Baby, I love it. But I want a turn. Not very fair that I don’t get to eat you,” he said with a wink. Her eyes went heavy, and he knew she was interested in what he had to offer.
He peeled her tank top off, then had her stand up. He tugged her pants down, kissing her hips and down her thighs as he went. Her hands tunneled in his hair, and he loved the feeling of her holding on to him.
He slowly shifted to have her sit on the couch, so he was now the one kneeling in front of her. Gripping the backs of her knees, he slid her down just a little and spread her legs.
“If I had known dining in would be this fun, I would have never left my house,” Grant said, staring down at his beautiful wife. He forced himself to take his time and not fall on her, ravaging her like a damn animal.
He reached for the ice cream and spread it on her nipple with a finger. She gasped, and the pebbled peak budded harder. He sucked her hard. Cleaning the vanilla off her and laving at her skin.
“That feels amazing,” she breathed. And Grant understood, having had the cold and hot sensations from her just a moment ago.
Starting at her small waist, he rubbed down her body, his thumbs skimming over her hips, massaging gently as he went. She arched into him, her eyes fluttering closed as if she were relaxed and loving his touch. He sure as hell hoped so, because the woman had him spinning and ready to beg.
Kissing her belly button, he reached behind him and grabbed the whipped cream and shook it.
“Hold still,” he said and placed the edge of the nozzle near her clit. He sprayed a large helping of cream, and she giggled and squirmed. Her entire center was covered, and he placed the can back on the coffee table and took out a strawberry.
“You still hungry?” he asked. “Because I’m starving.”
He swiped the strawberry in the cream between her legs and took a bite.
“You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” he said, going in for another sample.
She moved her hips out, as if wanting more. Grant knew she loved it when he went deep. Loved it when he was hard and rough. But she’d teased him, so fair was fair.
He licked at some of the cream between her legs, purposefully glossing over her most sensitive spot, and watched her squirm and beg for more.
“Please, you’re right there . . . ,” she breathed, her eyes closing and her lithe body trying to tempt him to take her further.
“Right where?” he asked. “Right here . . . ?” He gave a hard lick to her clit, the cream melting around her.
“Yes!” she said.
With a grin, he stiffened his tongue and thrust it inside her. The taste of cream and her pleasure hit his mouth, and he was desperate for more.
He thrust in and out. Drinking her down and loving the flavor.
“Please, please, Grant.” Her hands gripped his hair. “Please, I need more. Take me hard. Please.”
He couldn’t deny her pleas. And he couldn’t deny his need for her, either. He rose up on his knees and grabbed her hips, pulling her spread legs open and toward him, impaling her on his cock in one yank.
“Oh God! Yes,” she screamed.
Grant groaned at her hot sheath surrounding him. He pumped in and out of her. The cream sliding around them only spurred him on.
She pushed his chest, causing him to fall back on the carpet. She followed him down, still fastened to him, and started riding him.
“Jesus, baby, you’re the best,” he groaned. He gripped her hips and worked her up and down on his cock. Her hands dug into his chest while she moved on him. Her breasts bounced, and Grant leaned up enough to snag a nipple in his mouth and give a quick suck. Then a little bite to the other.
She gasped his name and rode him harder. Faster. Taking him deep, then moving her hips back and forth. He could feel himself hitting that spot inside she loved so much. He watched her eyes squeeze shut as she threw her hips back and forth, seeking her own pleasure. Using him to find it.
It was the most incredible sight Grant had ever seen.
He loved having his control. Taking charge. But lying th
ere, watching his woman use him to get herself off, was the sexiest thing he’d witnessed. And he wanted to be whatever she needed. Even if that meant giving her control in this moment.
“Come on, baby,” he urged her on. “Come on me. I want to feel it.”
He flexed his hips just enough to hit her just a little deeper, and she threw her head back on a moan. So he did it again. And once more.
“Oh God, I’m coming,” she cried. Her long hair grazed the tops of his thighs, and she cried his name to the ceiling. Her hot core squeezing and milking him as he felt her orgasm lit up his entire body.
It was her pleasure that sent him over the edge.
“Baby, I’m there.”
She grounded down on him, rocking hard and taking him through his own release. Buried deep inside her, he came hard. Sparks lit up from the base of his spine and spread to his limbs like wildfire.
She collapsed on top of him, breathing hard and kissing his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her, and they stayed like that for a long moment. Feeling her heart beat against his, her mouth on his skin, her hair covering them like a blanket, he’d never felt more complete. He also felt like the whole world was lying in his arms, and at some point, he’d have to let it go.
But not tonight.
Not this week.
Keeping her against him, he sat up, then made it to his feet. Carrying his wife to the bedroom, he gently laid her down and settled her in bed. She was half-asleep and smiling, and Grant went to get a warm washcloth to clean the sticky cream off her.
She was still smiling with her eyes closed, and Grant could have sworn he heard her mumble his name and the word love.
His chest pounded hard at the hope of that.
He brought the blankets to her chin and tucked her in tightly. Her lips parted around even breaths and her hair splayed wild over the pillow. She looked sated, happy, relaxed. And Grant wanted to stay in this moment a little longer. Because it was in this moment that she’d loved on him. He’d loved on her. And now, he was going to share a bed with his wife.
A dream . . . it has to be a dream . . .
And there was no way in hell he’d let himself wake up if it meant he got to stay a few more moments in this perfect bliss.
Hannah had managed to avoid Grant this morning. Leaving him sleeping while she quietly sneaked out for her doctor’s appointment. He was getting to her, and she was admitting more than she’d ever thought she would. So much that she was forgetting that his time in Yachats was dwindling, and once he was gone, he’d be gone.
That was the deal.
So why wasn’t that fact bringing her relief?
Her stomach twisted, and she crossed, then uncrossed her legs in the waiting room chair, preparing for another long day.
“You nervous?” Laura asked her from the seat next to her. The doctor’s office smelled clean and crisp. Early-morning appointments worked easiest for Hannah, since the bar didn’t open until lunchtime.
“No, I’m fine. This is routine.” Hannah tried to convince herself that she really was fine, but deep down, she wasn’t. “You know, you don’t still have to come with me to these appointments.”
“Aside from my absence, when I lived in California, I’ve been coming to these with you since we were freshmen in high school.” Laura smiled and patted Hannah’s hand. Hannah had been fine going to these appointments by herself when Laura was gone, but Laura seemed to have some guilt, so Hannah indulged her.
She wished she had a better reason for needing a doctor. Truth was, Hannah was annoyed by the situation. Since the doctor had found cysts on her ovaries when she was fourteen, over the years the message had turned from “no big deal” to “we should monitor these,” with hushed talk that Hannah might be barren.
“Everything will be okay,” Laura said, like she said every six months when she came to her appointment with her.
“Yeah, it will. Because worst case, my parts don’t work and they take them out. No big deal.”
Laura frowned at her. “Hannah, it is a big deal. The cysts are okay now, but if they turned into something . . .” She paused, trying to stay positive. “I don’t want you to lose your parts,” she said, mimicking Hannah’s language.
“It’s not like I’d die,” Hannah countered. “I just couldn’t have kids. So what.”
Laura let out a deep exhale. “That’s a big deal.”
“I don’t even want kids, so it’s really not,” Hannah said. She glanced away and saw Parenting magazine on the small side table, with a rosy-cheeked baby staring back at her. She wondered what Grant’s baby would look like. Beautiful, of course. With his eyes and smile and—
Why the hell am I thinking about babies? Stop it.
“You’d be a good mom,” Laura said softly, tapping into the major fear Hannah had.
No . . . I wouldn’t be.
She was a product of her mother—a woman who’d left her child—and her father, a drunk who didn’t give a shit about his child. Hannah didn’t have the DNA to be a parent, and she would never put an innocent child through her bumbling attempts at parenting. Because the single most terrifying question pierced her brain every time she started to wonder about having a child . . .
Would I be just like my father?
The fear was too real and way too scary to risk.
“And Grant seems like a great guy and—”
“I’m not having a baby with Grant,” Hannah cut her friend off.
Laura shrugged. “You’re married to him. You’ve never discussed a family?”
“We eloped on a cruise ship,” Hannah said with exasperation.
“You love him, though. You’re married to him. He brings out the best in you.”
Hannah frowned. Laura’s own brows were knit. She was assertive and serious.
“What are you giving me a hard time on this?” Hannah asked.
“I’m not, I just want you to try thinking through other options. Stop running from the good things.”
Hannah shook her head. “I’m not ready for a baby, and I don’t even know that my marriage will work out.”
“I’m not saying go have a baby, I’m saying that you should at least talk to the man you love and open up about what you feel. What you’re afraid of.”
Hannah huffed out a breath, trying to get this gut-wrenching pain to leave her stomach. With every breath it just twisted deeper. The ache pulsed upward until it beat in her throat like a drum.
She thought of Grant. Of all the other times she’d been consumed by this . . . fear. How he soothed her.
Last night had been incredible. After they’d had their dessert, Grant had cleaned her up and tucked her in bed. She’d slept hard. Feeling lost to happy exhaustion and secure with Grant’s warm body next to hers.
When she’d woken up this morning, she’d caught sight of his cell phone blinking. A text was displayed from some guy named Harvey, wishing Grant a happy birthday tomorrow. She realized that she was finding out little facts about Grant that she hadn’t known. Like that he had a birthday coming up. She’d focus on that. Focus on the time she had with Grant and not worry about all this other crap. Like the future. Or the all-important discussion one was apparently supposed to have with one’s spouse. Jesus, Hannah couldn’t even elope right. Had no idea how to be married or what came with it. Much less how to have a discussion about more.
“I need to buy my bar. I need a business, stability. That is my baby,” Hannah said to Laura, shutting down the conversation. She needed to get her mind right and stay focused on what she did have control over.
The nurse called for Hannah, and she got up and walked back. This conversation was over.
The doctor’s appointment turned out like any other. Monitor and watch and hope. Whatever. Hannah was happy to be at work with her mind busy on the tasks of running the bar. The bar phone rang, and Hannah spun to grab it.
“Goonies Bar, this is Hannah.”
“Hi, this is Sarah Roth. I am interest
ed in your services for an event. May I speak to the manager?”
Hannah frowned and held the phone away from her ear enough to glance at it. Not that she’d see a damn thing. But the call was unprecedented. Not to mention the term manager likely would be applied to Hannah, if her boss thought titles were ever necessary. Hannah would be the one to speak to in this situation. Plus, she was hell-bent on owning this bar, so either way . . . she could handle this.
“This is the manager,” Hannah finally said.
“There is an event being hosted at the new subdivision next Friday, at the Cal James Cabins ranch house. We’d like you to provide bartending services for the event.”
Hannah knew exactly where that was. That was the place Cal was working on, and everyone had their eye on these new homes going in.
“Okay, how long are you needing a bartender?”
“The entire evening, roughly six p.m. until eleven. You provide your own liquor, and the flat rate is eight thousand for the night. Are you interested?”
Ah, fuck yeah, she was! That was her goal for what she needed to make the balloon payment minus alcohol cost. She couldn’t believe that she would actually make this work. With this one side job, she’d finally have her bar.
“Yes, I can do that,” Hannah said, trying not to sound overly crazy with excitement.
“Wonderful. I will need your e-mail address to send all the details and the mailing address on where to send the funds,” Sarah said. The confident, routine tone of her voice made Hannah think she’d booked these kind of events a hundred times before. But this one was the gateway to changing Hannah’s life.
Hannah gave Sarah all her contact information and thanked her before hanging up. She smiled so wide it hurt her face. If this event came through, she’d be able to pay for the bar and it would actually be hers.
Hope and happiness raced through her, and she almost couldn’t believe it. She knew better than to count on anything until the money was in hand, but this should work out!
She bounced on her toes, thinking of all the fun things she wanted to get done today. One being do something special for Grant’s birthday tomorrow. He didn’t know that she knew, but she wanted to at least acknowledge his big day.