Home > Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(49)

Gone Country (Rough Riders #14)(49)
Author: Lorelei James

He shouldn’t be. He was all man, wonderful sexy man, and she’d do everything in her power to assure him she liked what she saw. “Your body rocks my world, Gavin.”

“This old thing?”

She laughed softly. Odd to think she’d never had the opportunity to explore her lover’s reaction to her touch. Sexual encounters prior to Gavin had been done quickly and in darkness.

Time to change that. She’d learn every inch of him, learn what he liked, learn what made him shake with need. Starting here and now. Her hands followed the outside of his thighs; the crisp hair on his legs abraded her palms. She mapped the hard, defined quads. His slender hips were a frame for his flat belly. She probably could’ve gone on in more detail, but that pretty cock, directly in front of her face, distracted her. Thick, smooth and hard, rising out of the dark, curly tufts of hair between those impressive thighs.

Rielle glanced up and saw Gavin watching her with molten eyes. She licked him from root to tip in one long, slow, wet swipe.

“Jesus. This might kill me, you know that, right?”

Smiling, she flicked her tongue beneath the cockhead. “I’m thinking you’d better hold on to something solid. Brace yourself against the table.”

Gavin shifted, keeping his stance wide and his hands gripping the table’s edge. He wore a look of hopeful panic, which amused her. Maybe the book she’d read had it right; men cared less about a great oral technique than great enthusiasm.

She enclosed the base of the shaft in her right hand and lowered her mouth over the tip. The taut skin was smooth against her tongue. She sucked, getting a little taste of the glistening wetness leaking from the slit.

“Damn. That feels good.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. “You’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like?”

“Honey, I can promise you I’m gonna like it all, trust me.”

“Ah. Well…I probably won’t swallow since I—” just tell him the truth, “—haven’t done it before. You okay with that?”

Gavin blindly reached behind him and came up with a napkin. He passed it to her. “Problem solved.”

Rielle kissed the crown. Then she let the head pass between her teeth. Over her tongue until the shaft filled her mouth and her gag reflex kicked in. She backed off and started again, sucking him in a little deeper with each pass.

He groaned.

She circled her right hand around the base, stroking up to meet the downward plunge of her mouth. She flattened her free hand against his abdomen. Intoxicating to feel those muscles rippling beneath her touch.

Her mouth created so much wetness as she eagerly worked him over that liquid flowed down and coated her hand. She began to move faster.

The slipperier sensation had Gavin bumping his hips away from the table, into her face.

She liked this. No, she loved it. All of it. The intimacy. His trust. Her power. And those sexy, manly hisses and moans.

“Jesus. Don’t stop. A little faster. Like that. Goddamn, Ree, what you’re doing to me.”

For a split second it seemed as if his c**k lengthened. Then his hips snapped three times and he released a long groan.

Salty, wet heat splashed on her tongue and she held it in her mouth until Gavin’s body stopped twitching. She slipped the head free from her mouth, trying to discreetly spit into the napkin. That seemed messier than just swallowing. Good thing to remember for next time.

When she glanced up, he was peering down at her, a goofy smile on his handsome face.

“What?”

“That didn’t suck.”

She laughed.

A moment passed and he cradled the side of her face in his hand. “You’re beautiful.”

Her immediate denial got stuck in her throat. The way he looked at her made her feel beautiful. Made her feel wanted. Made her feel so very feminine.

Gavin slowly ran his thumb over her lower lip. Her tongue darted out and licked the pad. His thumb slipped inside, closer to her teeth. Her tongue traced the contour of his thumb as he stroked the wet inner flesh, back and forth. Such a sexy, intense moment and she found herself nearly breathless, imagining what would happen next.

“Bed,” he said hoarsely. “Now.”

She rolled to her feet and began to pick up their clothing.

His hand on her arm stopped her and she looked at him.

“Leave it.”

Then he clasped her fingers in his and led her to her bedroom. Gavin made love to her with the intensity she craved. Pushing her higher with each hard thrust. Seeming to know exactly what she needed.

And after they were spent, basking in the pleasure of skin on skin and lazy kisses, she understood what he gave her was so much more than hot sex.

While they’d been naked together, nothing else mattered.

But after they left the bedroom, the situation with Rory and Sierra put them at odds. The clock read twelve forty-five and the girls weren’t home. Neither of them answered their cell phones.

Gavin muttered about car accidents, serial killers and rednecks.

While Rielle understood Gavin’s concern, if he pushed her, she’d point out Rory was twenty-four. She didn’t have a curfew. And if Gavin hadn’t wanted Sierra tagging along with Rory, then he should’ve said something. Might be harsh—and she wasn’t complaining at all about their alone sexy time—but he’d been more concerned about getting off than where his daughter was off to.

Part of her wanted to go to bed. Gavin’s discussion with and discipline for his daughter were his business, not hers. But the mothering side worried for Rory and always would, demanding she wait up to see her daughter’s face. And yeah, Rielle wanted to make sure Sierra was all right too.

At one-thirty, Gavin quit pacing and grabbed his coat from the coat tree.

“Where are you going?”

“To find them. To alleviate my worry that they’re in a ditch somewhere or shitfaced and neither one is capable to drive.”

“No one at the Golden Boot will serve Sierra.” When Gavin opened his mouth to argue, she held her hand up. “Rory is a bartender in a college town, used to dealing with underage drinking. She won’t buy drinks for herself and pass them to Sierra, nor will she let her drink. So I’m one hundred percent sure at least your daughter is sober.”

“That’s reassuring,” he muttered.

“It should be.”

“I’d be a lot more reassured if I could talk to her.” He swore. “Why aren’t they answering their goddamned phones?”

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