“Fuck, baby. Seriously.” He pulled her hair hard enough to hurt, but the sensation just emboldened her efforts.
She took him as deep as she could handle, pulling him as far into her as her gag reflex would allow. Once and then again. The third time, he lost his battle with holding out. The warm bursts hit the back of her throat and slid down quickly. She’d never done that to anyone before, but it was much less challenging than she’d expected.
Kissing him softly on his shaft, she sat back and finished the verse. “Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, and stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools.”
“There’s more,” he said, staring at her with what looked like wonder in his eyes.
“There is,” she whispered, wondering if they were talking about the poem or something else entirely. “But I should go. I have half a dozen other checklists to complete.”
Van stood and helped her to her feet. “Every other motherfucker’s checklist better be questions and answers only. Or we are going to have a serious problem.”
She snorted out a laugh as she retrieved her previously forgotten folder. “Yeah, well. You know those questions about being accommodating? I need all tens on those.”
Van pulled her to him and kissed her swollen lips. “You better be kidding.”
“Says the guy who has women lined up to blow him. I should know. I wasn’t even first in line.”
The truth in her own words gouged her unexpectedly in the chest.
“Hey.” Tilting her chin up, he kissed her once more. “You might not have been first to offer, but you were the first to be taken up on it.”
“That’s something I guess.”
She stood awkwardly by his front door while he grabbed a pair of snug-fitting black boxer briefs from a drawer and slid them on. His muscular ass was perfectly defined by the material. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her imagination ran wild picturing how good it would look flexing as he thrusted himself into her. She made a mental note to request sex near a mirror.
“Need help at the barn tonight?” he asked, interrupting her dirty thoughts as he walked over to the door to stand beside her.
She shrugged. “Sadly, no. Jesse has things pretty much caught up. I don’t even have any reason to go down there except I have to say goodnight to Shadowdancer.”
“You ever think the others get jealous of how much special attention he gets? I mean, he’s kind of the asshole of the bunch. Yet you seem to love him the most.”
She smiled at his crinkled brow. And at the fact that he was completely serious.
“I don’t know. I guess I have a special place in my heart for assholes.”
At that, Van grinned, lighting her up from the inside out. “Oh yeah? Got room for one more?”
Her breath caught. “Do you want to be in my…heart?”
His mouth gaped open slightly. Clearly he hadn’t read into the significance of his own words.
“Relax, rock star. I’m teasing.” Letting him off the hook seemed the best way to go. Heavy conversation just seemed out of place after oral sex.
But then his eyes darkened. “I want to be wherever you’ll let me, Stella Jo.”
Startled by his honesty, she smiled up at him. “Well, I can think of a few places.” Stella wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her lips on his until he kissed her back.
“Do you have a problem kissing me after I had your cock in my mouth?”
Van’s hands tightened their grip on her waist. “Absolutely not. I was trying to ignore how delectably swollen your lips were from sucking me off so that I could let you leave instead of bending your sexy ass over my kitchen table and fucking you blind. Since you still have work to do and all.”
Her entire body responded to his words. “Can we pretend I need help at the barn tonight?”
“Yes. Yes we can,” he mumbled against her mouth.
“Good. And don’t bother wearing a shirt. I have vital research to complete involving your tattoos. See you around seven?”
His lips curved into a smile as he pressed them against hers once more. “Seven it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this nervous. Or if he ever had. Taking a deep breath, he glanced behind him to make sure no one was around. He’d taken the long route around the barn, walked decidedly slowly—especially for a man who couldn’t wait to get where he was going.
But now he stood at her door. Picturing her smile, her eyes burning into his as she kneeled before him, wondering what she’d be wearing for their date—or whatever the hell it was—tonight.
Knocking gently, he contemplated kicking his own ass for getting so worked up. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t like him. And yet, he’d freeze fucking time if it meant he could keep her. Could keep seeing her. Could somehow keep being the version of himself she apparently wanted to spend time with.
The door opened, pulling him from his thoughts and effectively evaporating the air in his lungs.
“Jesus.”
“I’m sorry. Were you praying? Did I interrupt?” She tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth, barely managing to hide a smile from him as she stepped aside to let him in. The jeans she wore must have been made specifically for her body. The thin sweater was a gentle shade of pink. Or maybe peach. He wasn’t sure. But it matched the blush that crept high up on her cheekbones perfectly.
“You look…” He shook his head. “Beautiful is an insult compared to what you are.” He’d never had a woman take his breath away before. Until now. “If this were real life, I would’ve brought flowers. No florists currently in rehab I guess.”
“There’s lavender and hyacinth by the barn,” she informed him. “Just sayin’.”
Van grinned. He loved her smart mouth, loved the way she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, to be honest about the way she saw him. The real him. Somehow she saw through the bullshit. It seemed to be all anyone else could see. And she cut right through it completely.
“I’ll make a note of that for future reference.”
She smiled. “So we have two options.”
“Only two?” He could think of a lot more.
She rolled her eyes as they stepped into the small area where an overstuffed white couch with about half a dozen more throw pillows than were necessary sat across from a television.
“I can make pasta or we can order pizza.”
“I eat so much pizza on the road. I’ve kind of enjoyed the break.”
“Pasta it is.” She turned toward a kitchenette that wasn’t much larger than his. “Make yourself at home. Remote’s on the coffee table.”
“If I could stand being that far from you right now, I would happily sit my ass over there and pretend to watch television. But since I can’t, give me an easy job like throwing lettuce in a bowl or spreading butter on garlic bread. Something.”
Her answering smile was brighter than any of the lights in her cozy living space. And it damn near knocked him on his ass.
“Okay,” she answered softly, giving him a demure smile as she led him into the kitchen. “Here. Chop these.”
He ached to touch her, but he settled for the tomatoes she was handing him instead.
A few minutes into his task, he felt her move in close behind him. “You don’t have to be so careful. They can take it.”
His knees took the brunt of her words. “Oh yeah? They like it rough then?”
Her musical laughter floated into the air. “Yeah, they do.”
Taking a deep breath, he finished chopping—slightly rougher than before. “Okay, now what?”
“Half in here.” She gestured to a pot on the stove. “And the other half in here,” she said, handing him a bowl of lettuce.
“You make your own sauce?”