Notch on His Bedpost

Home > Other > Notch on His Bedpost > Page 8
Notch on His Bedpost Page 8

by Brill Harper


  She grins, not losing eye contact, and closes her lips around me, sucking my cock like a lollipop. My hand tightens in her hair.

  “Holly,” I warn again.

  She lets me plop out of her mouth but keeps her hand firmly on my rod.

  “I’ve been dying to taste you. Since that first night at Felony, I’ve wanted you in my mouth.”

  Cum beads on the head of my cock. “Jesus, Holly, honey. I’m never going to last.”

  She smiles and wraps those silky pouty lips around me like I’m the best thing she’s ever tasted. And then she takes me in so slow. Up and down, a little further every time.

  “Please. I’m begging you to stop sucking on me and I can’t believe I’m saying it.”

  I slide out of her throat. “Promise I’ll get a chance next time?”

  “Oh, baby. You can have as many chances as you want. I promise. But I want to be inside you. Now.” Forever.

  She pretends to be sullen, sending me a flirty pout, and then lets go. She gets on her hands and knees and crawls to the head of the bed, teasing me with those stockings and that ass. Well, she won’t be teasing long.

  I’m on her before she gets to the top of the mattress. I flip her onto her back and pin her wrists on either side of her head. “You’re a tease. I’m going to have to be very hard on you for that.”

  She grins even as she struggles to get her arms free. “I’m counting on it, Mr. Virile.”

  I take both wrists into one of my hands, holding them above her head. With my free hand, I spread her beneath me, sinking my fingers back in to her, chuckling as she arches under me. “Greedy, greedy,” I taunt.

  And then I can take no more. So hot and tight. I need her, need to drive my love into her so hard and so deep that she will never doubt my commitment and loyalty to her. For a brief moment, as I slide my fingers over her sensitive flesh and watch the play of emotion on her face, I think about skipping the condom. I want to go in raw, no barrier between us, want to fill her up until she’s full and leaking my cum out of her, to know what she’d look like round with my child in her belly.

  The image makes me pause long enough that Holly opens her eyes lazily. “Everything okay?” she asks.

  “I love you,” I answer simply.

  “I love you, too.”

  I sheath myself in a condom, but the idea of making a baby spurs me on anyway. And when I enter her, and the wet heat of her fists around me, I go someplace new. A different level of desire, one that I never even imagined existed.

  Pleasure coils tightly through me as I move inside her. I try to recall all the moves that earned my reputation for pleasing women in bed, but I’m possessed with a need to pump relentlessly, hard and fast. I want to make it last, but Holly claws her fingernails down my back as her tight, creamy channel pulses around me as she comes, and there is nothing I can do to stop the orgasm from ripping through me too. The pleasure is violent and unrelenting, as if I’m being purified through fire. When the last of the flames are gutted out, all I can do is hold on to the woman below me as shivers wrack our sweaty bodies and a peace overtakes me.

  Finally, I’m home.

  A good long while later, when our limbs are entwined, and we’re sated...for now...Holly rises on one elbow and stares at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  She’s gorgeous. Her hair tousled and her skin flushed. I start tracing her freckles while I wait for her to tell me what’s on her mind.

  “I’m waiting for you to tell me I was right.”

  I pull her across me, so she is on top, fitting her mound to my groin as things start to perk up down there again. “Right about what?”

  She jerks her hips a little. Yeah. Things are definitely coming back to life down below. “That first night.”

  “You mean when you told me you weren’t going to have sex with me? I believe I am the one who insisted you would. Looks like I was right.”

  She swats my shoulder. “No, when I told you sex was better with someone you care about.”

  A fragile look passes over her face and my heart swells up fiercely, protectively. I cup her jaw tenderly in my hands and hope my eyes are showing her the promises of my heart. “Oh baby, you were right.”

  Holly smiles. An hour later, lying sideways on a bed with no pillows, my foot caught in a sheet and a feminist blogger snoring quietly in my ear, I survey my kingdom and am pleased.

  EPILOGUE

  Holly

  One year later

  “MRS. MARTIN, WHY ARE you carrying a puppy?” Dane raises up from the ground holding a paint brush.

  Damn it. I didn’t see him there, painting the fence, or I would have gone in through the back door.

  “I thought you were writing today?”

  “I know the pickets were bothering you, and I didn’t want you out here subjecting my unborn child to paint fumes. Also, quit changing the subject. Why are you holding a puppy?”

  The puppy squirms in her arms so she could lick her cheek. “The truth is I don’t really know. There was a basket of them at the general store.”

  Dane raises his brows. “Are you sure you’re ready for small town life? We’ve been here three weeks and you’ve already accidentally volunteered to be a Girl Scout troop leader, been made a bridesmaid in a stranger’s wedding, and made a bid to buy the local newspaper.” He opens the gate for me, taking the puppy, and setting the young dog back down when the gate is closed. “Now a puppy. You remember you’re having a baby soon right?”

  “Yes. I put in in my calendar so I wouldn’t forget.” I put my arms around his neck, not quite fitting in his arms the way I used to. “Let’s scandalize the neighbors. Kiss me.”

  As always, I feel sparks on my tongue and butterflies in my belly.

  Also a sharp kick in the ribs.

  “Ouch.” I put Dane’s hand where I expect the next kick to land. “You weren’t kidding about the Mr. Virile part. This kid of yours is already a bruiser.” We smile when Bruiser executes a roll under Dane’s palm.

  Boss comes out to inspect the new puppy, sniffing and rolling over immediately. The pup climbs on him and starts tugging his ear.

  Dane begins cleaning up his paint supplies. “Pack politics executed. I guess we’re keeping her.”

  “I guess so. So, writing?”

  He grabs me again. “Not feeling it today.” His hand grazes my breast. “This however, I am feeling. Wanna go count some sheep?”

  I look at his hand, his wedding ring still so shiny and new. “Are you happy, Dane? I mean, really happy?”

  His steel eyes soften under my gaze. “Of course I am.” I duck my head, feeling the tears burn. He brings my chin back up. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing. It’s hormones. I’m just happy. Really, really happy. But I’m worried that I’ve asked too much of you. That all these changes are what I want, and you’re just trying to please me. The wedding. The pregnancy. The move across the country to a small town.”

  “All three of those were my idea.”

  Well, technically, yes. But I still feel like I pushed him into it somehow. The idea to move back to the town he’d grown up in came after yet another tornado touched down near his neighborhood.

  “You never would have come back here if it weren’t for me.”

  “You’re right.” He leads me up the walk to our porch. “But this is where I want to be.”

  I sit on the porch swing. “Because I’m afraid of tornadoes, and they don’t have them here.”

  “I do consider it a benefit that the mother of my unborn child no longer has to have panic attacks from the weather, yes. But we could have gone lots of places, babe. We chose here because it means something. To both of us.”

  Roots. His parents nearby. The town where we first had hotel sex.

  “You don’t miss places like Felony? You haven’t worn one of your fancy suits in a month.”

  “I don’t miss clubs.”

  “What about other women? I’m...” I look at
the beach ball under my shirt. “I’m not going to wear a mini dress or stilettoes for quite some time.”

  “I don’t miss being single. And you are more beautiful every day.”

  He’s just saying that. But it’s sweet.

  “You were a god to all those single men. You don’t miss that even a little?”

  “I’m perfectly content being a god to you, my dog...dogs...and my child.”

  “I think you’re more of a dork than a god.”

  He starts kissing my neck. “No you don’t.”

  No, I don’t. He’s mine. This is ours. “I think you’re sexier in jeans and a T-shirt than a suit anyway.”

  “According to my careful study of you, Mrs. Martin, you think I’m sexier in jeans and no shirt. You give yourself away every time.”

  “You’re a shameless hussy, Mr. Virile.”

  “Shut up and kiss me, wife.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BRILL HARPER IS A PSEUDONYM. Like...a secret identity. By day she’s Clark Kent, writing romance books for young adults and grownups. By night, she’s Brill Harper writing unfailingly filthy yet super sweet books that would make her alter ego blush.

  Join Brill on:

  Twitter

  Facebook

  And stay connected with Brill’s Bites, her newsletter. http://brillharper.com/newsletter

  Don't miss out!

  Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever Brill Harper publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.

  https://books2read.com/r/B-A-XQLE-FJKS

  Connecting independent readers to independent writers.

  Did you love Notch on His Bedpost? Then you should read Nailed: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book by Brill Harper!

  Brody

  I’m not the kind of guy you leave alone in your house.

  I’m especially not the kind you leave alone with your innocent daughter.

  My newest client doesn’t seem to care. He just wants his office remodeled.

  His college-aged daughter isn’t my usual type, but under those prim clothes and too big glasses, the sweet little bookworm hides a tight little body that's tempting AF.

  I make her nervous.

  I should.

  I'm going to make her mine.

  She doesn’t know about men yet...

  She's about to learn.

  Megan

  Dad's carpenter makes me feel things I don’t understand.

  I don’t have any experience with older guys like him, or any guys really.

  They look at me and see a quiet nerd. But this bad boy—I feel like he sees right through me.

  Like he knows the dirty fantasies that haunt my dreams. The things I do under the covers.

  He makes me needy and breathless.

  But I’m shy and awkward—what do I have to offer a man like him?

  Author's Confession: This book is super sweet, unfailingly filthy, and the heroine is nerdilicious. And who doesn't love a bad boy who's good with his hands? Very good with his hands. Very, very good.

  Read more at Brill Harper’s site.

  Also by Brill Harper

  Blackfish Island

  His Accidental Boyfriend

  Blue Collar Bad Boys

  Bounced: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Nailed: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Drilled: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Wrecked: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Laid: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Tagged: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Christmas

  Plowed: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Bucked: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Banged: A Blue Collar Bad Boys Book

  Standalone

  Blue Collar Bad Boys Volume 1: Books 1-3

  Blue Collar Bad Boys Volume 2: Books 4-6

  Dirty Jobs: a Blue Collar Bad Boys Collection

  Notch on His Bedpost

  Watch for more at Brill Harper’s site.

 

 

 


‹ Prev