Mickie nodded. “Do it,” she whispered before hiking her sweater up the rest of the way, taking her bra with it. As soon as her gorgeous tits were revealed, he sped up his hand, jerking himself at a furious pace.
“Fuck, Michaela, you’re so goddammed stunning.” Somehow the hat stayed on her head. He had no idea why, but he fucking loved the sight of her half dressed for the outdoors and half bare to him.
She played with her pointed nipples as she stared at him, working himself over. “Pretty sure I’m the one with the better view right now.”
He snorted. “Fuck no. You playing with those tits beats anything.” Fuck, he wasn’t going to last long. Already, his balls felt heavy and full with the need to come. They grew tighter with each passing second. His stomach muscles coiled in a familiar warning.
Her grin turned positively wicked. “Well, it sure seems to be helping you beat it.” He threw back his head and laughed as he tugged his cock with rough pulls. Even her jokes made him want to blow his load all over her.
That was all it took.
The split-second mental image of her covered in his cum had him coming in a blinding rush. He emptied all over her stomach, coating her in white. Fuck if it wasn’t even sexier than he’d imagined it would be. He wanted her to spread it all around, rubbing every drop into her skin, but it was now cold as fuck, and they needed to get dressed and back to the car before someone discovered them.
“Jesus,” he whispered when his body finally settled. He fell forward, catching himself with one hand next to her shoulder. “You are a dangerous woman.”
Her smile faltered for such a small wink of time he wasn’t even sure he’d seen it. But then she bucked her hips up with a laugh. “Up you go, cowboy. This is getting really cold really fast.”
He stood then extended a hand for her, lifting her to her feet when she grabbed on. Once she was up, he snagged his sweatshirt off the ground, used it to clean up her stomach, and righted her pants for her. After she was as covered and warm as possible, he tucked his spent cock back in his underwear, did up his pants, and tucked the come-stained sweatshirt under his arm.
“To answer your question, a burger sounds fucking perfect right about now. I know just the place.”
She placed her chilly hand in his with a squeeze. He held it tight to provide as much warmth as possible. Together, they made their way around the exterior of the corn maze, chatting and laughing about random nonsense.
Keith did his best to ignore that this didn’t feel anything like an illicit hook-up but a perfect date with a fascinating woman.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KEITH STOOD THIRD in line at the local coffee shop he’d been frequenting since the first time he’d cashed a paycheck. Somehow, their small town managed to keep the big-name coffee chains from setting up shop, allowing the little café to thrive. They served everything those fancy shops did, plus an array of delicious and waist-expanding pastries baked fresh every day. Townsfolk gathered every morning for their daily jolt of caffeine and a chat with their friends.
This morning he was on a java and breakfast run for himself and JP, who’d agreed to lend a hand at the garage again. Maybe someday, the second youngest Benson would get serious about his life and find a real job. For now, he was more than happy bouncing around from family business to family business, lending a hand where necessary. He also worked around town as a handyman. He never seemed short on cash between all the random jobs, and the atypical schedule worked for him. Would a day ever come where JP would be forced to grow up and act his age and find steady employment? Who the hell knew? With that guy’s luck, he’d skate by without ever officially being on anyone’s payroll.
As he waited for his turn to order, Keith’s gaze drifted around the eclectic, hipster-style café. Not more than three seconds into his inspection, his gaze landed on a woman sitting alone at a table with her attention riveted to her laptop.
Michaela.
She wore stylish sweatpants—Ronnie had called them joggers or something—with an oversized sweatshirt that also managed to look chic and stylish instead of sloppy. The woman could make a Mumu look like high fashion. As usual, her short hair was smoothed to perfection, framing her gorgeous face. Then there were those dark-rimmed glasses giving him all kinds of naughty thoughts. His favorite fantasy consisted of her riding him wearing nothing but those glasses.
Christ, if he wasn’t careful, he’d be rocking a full-blown stiffy by the time he stepped up to the counter. Good way to give the sixteen-year-old barista a lifetime of nightmares.