Whiskey and Country

With one arm, I lifted her and locked her ankles behind my back. My hands glided under her shirt, my fingertips enjoying the feel of the warm skin of her back, then to her front. Squeezing her plump breasts, I rolled her nipples between my fingers, the lace of her bra adding to the fiction. A low growl bubbled out from her as she fisted my hair and consumed my lips.

I ground my pubic bone against her center, my dick seeking her warmth. Dahlia rolled her hips in an age-old dance, a symphony of purrs escaping her luscious lips.

“Shirt off,” I ordered as I unclasped her bra, my hands greedy, not wanting to leave her breasts even for a second.

Dahlia lifted my shirt over my head, her eyes singeing my torso.

My body pulsed.

My heart rattled in my chest.

My dick hardened further.

This woman was killing me.

God. Taking her time, she removed her top, her unclasped white bra revealing the most perfect mounds I’d ever seen. Creamy, round, big enough to fill my hands.

My fingertips grazed the skin of her arms, from her shoulders down, freeing her from the dangling piece of lace. We both watched it fall as it landed on the planked floor. Our palms touched, and we knitted our fingers together.

“You’re beautiful,” I breathed out, still fighting hard with myself to not take her right here on the kitchen island.

She tilted her head, nibbling on her lower lip, her eyes full of sparks.

My mouth connected with her earlobe, taking its sweet time to travel down, licking and tasting. My teeth nipped the flesh of her neck, trailing over to the swell of her breasts. Wanting to close in on the center where the nubs were demanding my attention.

“More,” Dahlia commanded, her voice husky, the sound orgasmic.

My dick pushed against the zipper of my pants, wanting to be let loose in this game.

My lips close around one stiff nipple, and I massaged the tip with my tongue, sucking and flicking it. Dahlia moaned, a dark flush rising from her neck up.

“You taste like summer.”

A low gasp escaped her lips.

Her voice shuddering, pleasure building inside her as I latched out to her other nipple, now so hungry for her I could never stop. “What does summer taste like, Nick?”

Fuck, Dahlia’s sex voice was like pure ecstasy shooting through my veins. And the way she said my name, with her southern inflection, destroyed me in the most delicious way.

“Sweet. Sexy. Smart. Irresistible. Delicious. You. I have to taste all of you.”

She grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me up, crushing her mouth to mine, plundering it with her ravenous tongue.

“I can’t wait…to know…what you taste like too,” she said in between kisses, panting.

Those words. They shattered me. My brain, my resolve, my willpower, they all left me. Only my mouth, my dick, and my hands existed.

Dahlia unbuttoned my pants, her fingers set on their own mission. Her tongue darted out and swept across her lips. I groaned, and another chain of my restraint collapsed to the floor.

Before I could feel her touch on the burning piece of me aching for her, I stopped her with a hand.

She raised her gaze, question marks floating in her moss-green eyes.

“You first. Let me make you come. If you touch me, I won’t last, and it will be over before we even get started. I’m about to explode just from the way your lips taste.”

“But I—”

I silenced her with a bruising kiss, the kind that’d be branded on my lips forever.

“You’ll have plenty of time.”

With steady fingers, I unbuttoned her cut-offs and pushed a finger inside her panties, relishing the wet warmth of her coating my digit. Dahlia screamed in delight, and I swallowed it as our mouths fought to get more of each other.

“Fuck. Even your pussy is addictive.”

I slid a second finger in, and Dahlia gripped my biceps, digging her fingernails into my skin, and arched her back, mewing like a kitten.

“Oh, God, Nick, it’s been so long since someone touched me like this. Please don’t ever stop.”

I cupped my junk, making sure my dick hadn’t drilled a hole through my pants. Everything was fine. Except that I was so hard, I wondered if all the blood in my body had pooled to the tip.

“Yes. There. More—”

Giggles reached us from the living room.

My brain didn’t really register them.

Giggles again.

This time, there was no mistaking the sound for anything else.

Dahlia and I froze, my digits concealed deep inside her, her wetness and heat wrapped around them.

More giggles.

I fished my phone from my back pocket.

Ten thirty-seven.

We exchanged a quizzical stare.

I extracted my hand just in time as Dahlia jumped to her feet and buttoned her shorts.

She gave me an apologetic smile and a shrug.

I grabbed both our shirts from the floor and handed Dahlia hers.

Dressed and decent, we made it to the other room.

The scene playing in front of us made me smile. But it also put to rest my horny self.

On the floor, Buddy was licking a sleepy Jack’s face, the boy laughing his heart out. Dahlia and I shared another look.

She winced.

Our eyes traveled back to Jack and Buddy, and we both burst out laughing.

Dahlia angled herself to face me, her arms circling my waist. “Nick, I’m so sorry.”

My lips found hers. “Don’t be. Look at them.” We turned our faces in their direction. “This is priceless.”

Half an hour later, I walked the woman of my dreams and her now fully awake son to their car. Buddy in tow, listening to Jack singing to him, energized from his power nap.

Once she buckled Jack in his car seat, Dahlia joined me.

“Again, sorry,” she said as my lips found her in the darkness of the night. “I’m already counting the days when we can continue where we left off.”

My palm lowered to her ass cheek, and I gave it a squeeze as she kissed me one last time.