Southern Sinner (North Carolina Highlands 3)

He is so beautiful it hurts.

His front is plastered to my back. His erection presses against my ass, not lewd or overly eager but very much there.

I’m a smidge taller than he is in my heels, but he’s got so much bulk and brawn he still dwarfs me.

Still makes me feel deliciously, dangerously feminine. Just like he did when he watched me dance and sing and play the tambourine back at Samuel’s house, eyes hazy and hot. That was fun.

“Let me guess.” I reach behind me to run my fingers through his hair. “It was your idea. To unpack for everyone.”

He meets my eyes in the mirror. “Why do I get the feeling that bothers you?”

I shake my head, sucking in a breath when he slips a hand inside my shirt. I watch it move up, up. He cups my breast, kneading it over my bra, running the pads of his first two fingers over my nipple.

In his hands, my body becomes a live wire. Sensation rips through me, making my clit pulse, and I close my eyes.

“It doesn’t bother me,” I pant. “I think it’s great, the way you take care of your people. It’s just . . .” Giving me this funny feeling in my chest that’s scaring me. “It’s not something I’ve seen a lot of. In guys, I mean. That kind of thoughtfulness.”

Hank spins me around to face him. Hands curled possessively into my sides. “Because we’re just having fun, I’m not gonna ask for your story. And I definitely won’t ask why that kinda thing freaks you out so much.”

A jolt of anger—fear—arrows through the arousal spreading in my center.

“It doesn’t freak me out,” I say defensively. Total lie.

“I call bullshit.”

He’s digging. He’s concerned, and I don’t want to believe that means he cares because that would make this funny feeling bigger.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip. His eyes flick to my mouth, just like I knew they would.

And just like I knew they would, they get hazy again.

I lower myself onto my knees, one leg at a time. Never breaking eye contact.

Hooking a finger into the waist of his jeans, I begin to unbutton them. “Don’t make me call bullshit on your promise to fuck my mouth.”

I unzip his fly and his stomach caves, nostrils flaring as he looks down at me.

“I see what you’re doing.” His voice is hoarse. “You think you can change the subject by distracting me—”

“Can’t I?” I tug his jeans and briefs over the curve of his ass. His cock bounces in my face, the slit at the head already leaking. I take him in my hand, curling my fingers around his silken length. He’s hot and hugely hard, his girth pulsing in my palm. I give him a slow, slow tug, smiling when his expression contracts. “What’s wrong with distracting you? Do you not like the way it feels?”

He grabs my hand, stilling my motion. He looks at me, really looks, and a muscle in his jaw ticks. “I can’t imagine you like the way it feels—not letting anyone in.”

There’s that anger again. The sore spot.

My heart feels heavy and tight, like I’m in the middle of a workout.

His hand is warm and dry around mine.

“You don’t know me,” I say.

He cups my chin in his other hand. “That’s just the thing, honey. I want to.”

I blink, hard, trying my very best to ignore the way that makes my pulse flutter.

Goddamn it, we were having so much fun. This was fun, but all of a sudden it’s getting feel-y, it’s verging on serious, and I’ve got my dukes up.

“I can’t go there,” I say softly, flattening my hand on the plane of his stomach. “Please don’t ask that of me. I understand you wanting it, wanting to know someone that way. But that someone isn’t me, all right? I’ll give you everything I can offer, Hank, believe me. Just not that.”

He searches my eyes. “What kind of crime do you think you committed?”

The crime of failure.

The question and my silent answer hang between us for a long beat before I manage to paste on a smile. “Why do you ask questions you know I’m not going to answer?”

I can’t read his expression. He’s horny, yeah. But something’s changed. He’s looking at me differently. Not in a bad way. Just with more intensity, I guess. More naked interest that’s sexual but soft too.

I will myself to look away. Settling my gaze on his cock, I lean in and lick the tip. Lap up his cum, his taste savory in my mouth. He sucks a breath through his teeth and juts his hips, pressing the crown of his penis against my lips.

Resisting the urge to look at him, I open my mouth and roll my lips around my teeth. I take him inside me bit by bit, rolling my tongue along his length. He groans. Groans again when I wrap my hand around him and jerk him off, pulling my head back. Then I move my head forward, taking his dick all the way to the back of my throat on a hard swallow.