Earning Her Love (Sweet Somethings Book 2)

by Rory Reynolds

  Her lips are just as soft as they appear and twice as delicious. I wrap my fingers around the back of her neck and tilt her head back so I can deepen the kiss. She willingly opens for me, and I get the first taste of her smooth tongue. Her tongue slicks against mine excitedly, and before I know what I’m doing, I have her lifted in my arms, and I’m striding across the kitchen and setting her sexy ass on the countertop.

  “Amos… we can’t…” I take her lips in another searing hot kiss, not letting her finish her protest. She rips her mouth away from me, panting. “Not here…” she tries to protest again, but I steal her words again with a kiss.

  All pretense of argument flees from her body as she melts into me. Her legs wrap around me, and her hot little pussy grinds against my cock. We both groan at the contact, and our mouths become frantic. I’m so hard I could come in my jeans just from her rubbing against me like she is.

  Like a glass of ice water dumped all over us, the bell over the door dings, and a customer calls out for help. I pull away, resting my forehead to hers as we try to catch our breaths. “It’s like the world is conspiring against us.”

  She nods with a pout. “I think it is…”

  “Helloooo,” the customer yells out.

  “Just a fucking minute,” I growl.

  Margo slaps her hand on my chest and gives me a dirty look that I kiss right off her face. She pulls away with a grumble then slides down my body as she hops down from the counter. She’s halfway to the door when I twirl her around and lay another searing kiss on her pouty mouth.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  Her eyes flash with indecision and something that looks a lot like longing. “I don’t know…”

  “Please, Margo.”

  She gives me a shy smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say my name…”

  I encircle her in my arms again. “Please, have dinner with me, Margo,” I rasp in her ear. From the way she shivers, I can tell how much she’s affected by me.

  She nods. “Okay… when?”

  “Excuse me, is anyone working in this place?!” the impatient customer calls.

  “Be there in a second!” Margo says, sounding more annoyed than apologetic.

  “Tonight, my place.”

  Her eyes heat at the implication. “Sounds good,” she says lowly. “Tonight…”

  I nod. “Tonight, sweetness.”

  “Ma, I don’t need help getting a date.”

  “If you didn’t need help, you’d be married and giving me grandbabies already. I’m not going to be around forever.”

  I do my best to hold in the long-suffering sigh that’s trying to escape. “I have a date tonight,” I confess. It’s not like she won’t hear it from Daisy, my mom’s busybody best friend who still works at the diner even though she should’ve retired years ago.

  “You do?” my mom says a little warily. “Who?”

  “Margo Schultz, she owns Sprinkled With Sugar.”

  “Hmm… that the girl Daisy was going on about?”

  I shake my head. “Ma, how am I supposed to know what that menace has or hasn’t told you. I swear you move to Arizona, and you’re more in my business than you were while you lived right here.”

  She laughs. “I just have to keep tabs on my baby boy.”

  “I’m thirty, I don’t think I need tabs kept on me anymore.”

  “Ha! That’s what you think. So when’s the wedding?”

  “Jesus, ma. We haven’t even had a first date yet. Maybe tomorrow?” My words drip sarcasm, but something in my heart burns at the thought. Making Margo mine permanently, getting my ring on her finger—yeah, I like the sound of that.

  “You need to settle down. Your dad won’t be with us much longer, and you know how much he wants you to be happy.”

  My dad has Alzheimer’s and is rapidly declining. It’s one of the reasons they moved to Arizona. My dad wanted to stay here, but my mom insisted they move to be where the leading doctor that specializes in Alzheimer’s lives. That’s when I took over the diner. I didn’t always see myself as a diner owner… I had other aspirations of my own, but family comes first, always.

  It may not be a five Michelin star restaurant in New York, but Burnt Sugar Diner is exactly where I’m meant to be, even if I hadn’t realized it. I love this town and the people in it. Aside from that, I never would’ve met Margo if I had run off to New York to become the next Ramsey. Margo is reason enough to never leave Sugarhill.

  “I don’t have to settle down to be happy.”

  My mom makes a tsking sound but doesn’t respond. She knows I’m right; however we both want to do everything we can to make dad happy while he can remember us. Which is why they are coming for a visit in a couple weeks. Dad wants to spend some time in his hometown before he loses his lucidity completely.

  “He just wants you to be as happy as we’ve been all these years.” She sounds pained as she talks. I can’t imagine watching the person you love most in the world fade away. Losing him one minute at a time.

  “I know. Look, ma, I’ve got to go. Margo will be here soon, and I need to get dinner started.”

  “Love you, son. Talk soon.”

  “Love you too, ma. Hug dad for me.”

  At exactly seven o’clock, I hear the sound of a car door slamming. Margo is here. I half expected her to cancel on me, but here she is. When there isn’t a knock on the door right away, I get curious and look out the window. Margo is standing on my porch… no, not standing, she’s pacing in front of my door.

  She walks to the door, raises her hand to knock, and then lets it fall again before pacing away. Her lips move as if she’s talking to herself, and I can’t help wondering what she’s saying and if she’s talking herself into or out of knocking. Not wanting to give her the easy out, I open the door. Margo jumps at the sound of the door opening and twirls around with wide eyes.

  “Oh, hi.”

  I smirk at her and her awkwardness. My girl is a tigress hidden behind a shy kitten. I’m determined to draw that tigress from this morning out of her hiding place. I want to see her nails and feel her fierceness.

  “Hello, sweetness. It looked like maybe you might be considering running away. Thought I would let you know that I’m willing to chase you if I have to.”

  Margo licks her lips, drawing my attention and making my cock twitch at the remembered taste of her. She tentatively takes a step towards me, then another, and another until she’s directly in front of me. She looks up with wide green eyes. “I’m not running.”

  I give her a noncommittal shrug because it sure looked that way to me, but I’ll let her think I believe her. “Good, because I’ve got dinner made, and I’d hate for you to miss out on the best stir fry you’ll ever have.”

  3

  Margo

  “That was the most amazing stir fry I’ve ever had.” And it is. I’ve never tasted something with so many flavor notes that don’t involve sugar, sugar, and more sugar.

  “Glad you liked it, sweetness.” If I didn’t know better, I would say he’s blushing, but a man like Amos wouldn’t blush. “I’ve got burnt sugar pie for dessert.”

  My mouth waters. Burnt sugar pie is the only dessert that tops any of my confections. He sets a big slice of pie in front of me, and I don’t wait a moment before taking a bite. “Mmm… this is so freakin’ good.”

  He watches my mouth as I take another bite, my tongue swiping out to catch a stray crumb. My body heats at the look in his hazel eyes. He looks like he’s ready for dessert, but not burnt sugar pie.

  “You know, I’ve tried dozens of times to figure out the secret to this pie and haven’t been able to even come close to replicating it.”

  Amos’ lips quirk up. “It wouldn’t be a secret recipe if it was easy to figure out.”

  “I suppose not,” I say, then slowly lick the tines of my fork clean of the last bit of pie. “Can’t blame a baker for trying.”

  He licks his lips, those dark, brooding eyes of his boring i
nto mine as I lick my lips feeling wanton. I want him to want me as much as I do him. I don’t want this night to end without us fully exploring the chemistry that burns bright in my belly.

  I stand to carry our dishes to the sink, but he grips my wrist firmly, stopping me. “Those can wait,” he growls.

  My breath catches in my throat at the possessive grip. “For what?” I breathe out, quiet and needy.

  “This,” he says, dragging me into his lap and kissing me as if our lives depend on it. At this point, maybe they do. It feels so right being in his arms; kissing him feels natural and necessary.

  Our tongues dance together, slick stroke after slick stroke. Over and over, our tongues caress… explore… My arousal grows until I know my panties are soaked through. My pussy throbs with how badly I need release. I turn in his lap so I’m straddling him. He groans as my pussy rubs against his hard cock. He feels enormous behind his zipper, something I didn’t get to fully appreciate before we were interrupted this morning.

  I break away from his lips, my head dropping back with a low moan as I roll my hips, mimicking what I want to do to him only without clothes. His big hands palm my ass and pull me tight against him, taking control of my movements. Just that one commanding touch has me spiraling towards an orgasm.

  I love how he takes charge.

  I know he’ll be a beast in the bedroom, and I cannot wait to experience his fully unrestrained passion. He trails his mouth up and down my neck, first kissing then gently nipping at the sensitive skin. I shiver, loving his mouth on me but wanting more. So much more.

  “Amos, I want you. Take me to bed.”

  He stops what he’s doing, and I instantly regret talking. “Are you sure, sweetness? Once I have you laid out on my bed, I won’t be able to stop myself. You’ll be at my mercy.”

  “Yes, please. I’m yours.”

  Without another word, he lifts me up and over his shoulder as he storms towards what I assume is his bedroom. My breath whooshes out of my lungs when he tosses me on the bed. I squeal when he yanks me by the ankles to the edge of the bed. He makes quick work of removing my shoes and jeans.

  “You’re so fucking wet,” he groans as he stares down at the wet spot on the gusset of my panties. From the way he’s looking at the thing scrap of red lace I’m wearing, I’m extremely glad I took the time to go to Sugarhill’s only boutique for some new lingerie.

  I lick my lips. “You do that to me. You always have,” I confess.

  He growls, ripping the panties from my body. Not just pulling them off, he literally rips them from my body. So hot. I’ve never had a man want me so much that he can’t control himself. I’m starting to think that Amos is everything I’ve ever wanted, not just out of bed, but in it too.

  My back arches at the first swipe his tongue across my clit. I thread my fingers through his hair, telling him how much I love his mouth on me. He’s eating me like he’s starving and I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. It’s a heady feeling knowing how much he’s enjoying eating my pussy. Most men go at it like a chore. Not Amos, he’s licking and sucking at my pussy like he’ll die without it.

  “I’m going to come… Oh, God, your mouth feels so good.” He growls into my pussy, redoubling his efforts as he drives me closer to my release. I’m right on the edge when he pushes two thick fingers inside me and immediately finds my g-spot. I scream as my orgasm ricochets through me, unable to control the sounds I’m making. I’ve never been a screamer, but apparently, I’ve never had a lover like Amos.

  My orgasm subsides, and he pulls away, licking his fingers clean of my release. “Mmm delicious,” he says, crawling up my body. He kisses me deeply, sharing my flavor with me. So dirty. I love it.

  I push on his shoulder, and he willingly rolls over so that our positions are flipped, and I’m perched on top of his big body. I nip his chin as I make my way down his chest. I push his shirt up so I can see all those tattooed muscles. He pulls the shirt off, and I gasp at how perfect he looks.

  My hands roam up and down his thick muscles, raking my fingertips over his nipples. He shudders, looking at me with hooded eyes. I follow the trail my hands are making with my mouth down his body to the top of his jeans. I undo his belt then his jeans. He lifts his hips helping me pull them down and off. His cock springs free. He’s long and thick, beads of precome drip from his tip, trailing down his length.

  My mouth waters. I’ve never wanted to suck a cock as much as I want his in my mouth. I take him in my hand, stroking him a few times before licking the drops from him. I look up at him as I slowly lave his cock. His head is thrown back, hands fisted in the bedding. I open my mouth and take the first couple inches, licking around the head as I lightly suck. His eyes pop open, and he looks down at me like a burning man.

  I stroke him with my hand as I take him in my mouth, licking and sucking him deeper and deeper on every pass. I groan when his hands fist my hair, and his hips punch up, forcing more of his cock into my mouth. I greedily accept the extra inches, redoubling my efforts to take more of him.

  “Fuck, your mouth is like heaven. Jesus. That’s it, sweets, fucking suck my cock so good.”

  I hum around him loosening my jaw further so he can take full control. I have become nothing more than an outlet for his driving need. I love it. His restraint has snapped, and he’s taking exactly what he wants, and I’m exhilarated. My hand slips down between my legs, and I tease my clit as I take him.

  Using his firm grip on my hair, he pulls me up off of him, and I whimper. I want more. I don’t want this to be over yet. I want to taste his release. I want to taste his loss of control as he comes down my throat. I pull against his hold, barely able to lick the tip of my tongue on the angry red head of his cock. He wants it as bad as I do, but he’s got something else in mind, which becomes apparent when he lifts me bodily until I’m straddling his lap, his big cock a delicious tease between my legs.

  I move up and down, spreading my wetness all over him. Fuck he’s huge. I have a sliver of doubt that I can even take him. He’s so much bigger than anyone I’ve ever been with, and it’s as intimidating as it is arousing.

  Amos strips me of my shirt and bra. I’m perched on his lap, rubbing my pussy wantonly on his cock, completely naked to him. From the look in his eyes, he loves what he’s seeing. It does something to me that feels a lot less like lust and a whole lot more like another L-word. One that I am not even remotely ready to explore.

  We’ve been tiptoeing around this thing for months now, but even so, it’s too soon to think about anything more than a little bit of fun—okay, a whole lot of fun. I’m lost in sensation and don’t realize his intentions until he’s rolled us and is entirely in control again.

  He kneels between my spread legs, rubbing the head of his cock around my clit then down to my entrance. I suck in a breath as his thick length slowly penetrates me. The feeling is one of pure, white-hot pleasure. He’s stretching me so perfectly; all I can do is beg for more.

  “Don’t worry, sweetness, you’re getting more,” he says before pushing himself deep. I gasp at the intrusion. He’s big. Huge, even. He stills, giving me time to adjust while his thumb rubs distracting circles around my clit. My muscles relax as he starts to slowly move.

  “Heaven. Pure fucking heaven. Jesus, you’re tight,” he growls as my pussy grips him. “I’ll never get enough of you.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, each one getting more demanding and more relentless until he’s fucking me in truth.

  The orgasm comes from nowhere, barreling down on me like a freight train and splitting me apart at the edges. I scream his name, telling him to fuck me harder, not to stop. He pulls out and flips me to my hands and knees before plunging back inside, deeper than ever.

  “Fuuuuck…” I cry out as he bottoms out, sending me into another orgasm. The orgasm goes on and on. I’m not sure if it’s multiple orgasms or just one, unrelenting release. Stars dance behind my eyes, and my throat grows hoarse from calling out his name and t
elling him harder… don’t stop… more.

  My arms finally give out, and I crash to the mattress, my ass in the air while he fucks me to oblivion. I’m barely coherent when he pulls from me and groans as he comes across my ass and back. I can feel the hot release trailing down my thighs. It’s deliciously dirty and a stark reminder that there was no condom. We didn’t even talk about it. I’ve never been so irresponsible in my life, but I can’t find it in myself to regret it. I’m on birth control, and I know deep in my heart that Amos wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.

  He kisses me between my shoulder blades before getting up from the bed. I’m basking in the bliss of multiple orgasms when Amos lifts me in his arms and carries me to the bathroom where he proceeds to gently and lovingly washes me in the shower. He dries me off then carries me back to bed. My whole body is languid and pliant. He crawls in behind me and pulls me tight against his chest. With a hum of pleasure at the feel of his big body wrapped around mine, I drift off to sleep.

  I didn’t intend to have a sleepover, but I’m definitely not moving now. Not when Amos has me cocooned in his arms.

  4

  Amos

  I wake up to Margo laying half on my chest, her leg thrown up over mine as she clings to me in her sleep. I can’t figure out what woke me up until the sound persists. It’s Margo’s phone in the other room where she left her purse last night. I find the clock on my nightstand and see that it’s three in the morning. It’s then that I realize it’s her alarm. I feel a little guilty for waking her twice in the night, trying to sate my insatiable appetite for her.

  She groans and stretches as she wakes up. “Sorry to wake you up at this godawful hour,” she says with an apologetic shrug. “Baker life.”