In my mind, I fist her hair, pumping my hips as I come down her throat. Sadly, in real life I’m alone, coming all over my hand and shirt and not a towel in sight. I wipe my hand on my shirt and carefully pull it off without making more of a mess. Once I’m zipped, buttoned, and buckled up, I toss my shirt down from the loft and climb down the ladder.
I’m on the last rung when someone knocks on the door. I’m shirtless but otherwise dressed, so I cross the room quickly to answer it.
Words fail me as I find Bethany on my doorstep. Her mouth hangs open as she openly ogles not my face but my chest. All I can think, looking at her, is how I just pictured my cock in her mouth. Her standing here with it hanging open sends blood rushing that direction again.
I clear my throat, crossing my arms over my chest in the hopes she’ll look up at me and close her mouth. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.”
Her eyes snap up to mine, looking more brown than green. “Bess called and invited me over for dinner. I just got here and she sent me over to collect you since it’s almost ready.”
I’ll bet she did, I think to myself. “I was just changing my shirt.”
Hoping that explains my appearance, I turn and grab my soiled shirt from the floor. “Give me just a minute. Umm, make yourself comfortable.”
She tiptoes into my cabin and her eyes dance around the room, from the wood carvings on the walls to the old worn throw blankets hanging off the back of the sofa. I flee to my bathroom and fill the sink up with water before tossing my shirt in it. I usually don’t do my own laundry and do not want to explain that
spot to anyone. On my way back to the front room, I grab a Henley from my closet and drag it over my head.
“It’s a nice surprise, you joining us for dinner,” I say once I’m back in the room with her.
“It was sweet of Bess to ask me,” she replies.
Is that saying she wished I had asked her? I frown but wipe it from my face when I see her watching me.
“You’re always welcome.”
She’s lost her pink flip-flops and changed into a dress and a pair of worn-in cowboy boots. She was showing more leg in her cutoffs, but knowing I could easily push that dress up and over her hips is one hell of a turn-on. Shit, she could even leave the boots on.
“I might be a crazy person. You shouldn’t just make a blanket invitation like that.”
I push open the door, holding it for her. “Just being neighborly.”
“Oh, so that invitation isn’t specific to me? It’s open to all of your neighbors?”
“Never said that.” I sweep my arm in front of me. “After you.”
She eases past me, her arm brushing mine as she does. “Thank you.”
Once outside, I frown when I notice how cool it’s become. “Will you be warm enough?”
She nods, but the slide of her hands up and down her arms tells a different story.
“Wait right here.”
Hurrying back into the cabin and back into my room, I pull an old hoodie from my closet. It’s small on me but good for layering under bigger coats during the winter. I’m back outside and by her side in no time.
“Put this on,” I say, passing it to her.
“You didn’t have to,” she argues even though she’s already putting it on.
I have to admit, my clothes look good on her.
“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.”
The main house is a short walk from my cabin. Her long legs match my stride easily and I use the opportunity to point out different sections of the farm along the way.
“So you donate whatever you don’t use to the food bank?”
This has been a bone of contention with other girls I’ve dated. “Yep, we make enough to sustain our needs, barter for things we need in the community, and donate the rest. We’re technically a nonprofit.”