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Vice by L.M. Pruitt (20)

I survived lunch.

Barely.

There were a few moments where I thought my heart might give out and I was certain when I looked at my palms I’d find deep marks where I’d dug in my nails, hoping the pain would clear my head and keeping me from making a fool of myself.

It didn’t work.

If anything, the minute pain put me that much closer to the proverbial edge.

By the time Abraham paid the bill and led me outside, I was a shaking, sweaty, quivering mess and I was certain our server thought I was either coming down with the flu or something equally as bad. The second we were both in the car, I reached over, grabbed the front of his shirt, and yanked him toward me until we were nose to nose. “I swear to Jesus, if you don’t let me come the minute we’re in your apartment, I’m going to kill you.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not really in to the lifestyle because that sort of talk would ensure you didn’t get what you wanted.” He kissed the tip of my nose before lifting one hand and peeling away my fingers, kissing each one individually. Settling back in his seat, he said, “Seatbelt, please. It would be downright awful if we got pulled over on our way to the bar and had to waste fifteen, twenty minutes trying to talk our way out of a ticket.”

“It would serve you right if I spent the entire drive sucking your cock only to stop as soon as we got there.” I got a small, petty thrill when some of the amusement drained from his face and he swallowed. “Not a big fan of having the shoe on the other foot, are you?”

“Having experienced the wonderment of your mouth, I’d say that would be a pretty suitable punishment for doing nothing but teasing you for the last two hours.”

“You’re the one who decided to order dessert.”

“I did, however, get it to-go.” He nodded at the small box on the seat between us. “I have plans for those strawberries, by the way.”

“And here I thought you were too much of a rebel for something as clichés as strawberries and chocolate.” When he snorted, I laughed. “Okay, so not chocolate. Champagne?”

“Better than champagne.”

“I don’t think tequila really goes with strawberries, unless you’re talking about a flavored margarita.”

“You’re going to break my heart if you tell me you actually drink things like that.”

“Tequila is tequila.” I sucked in a shaky breath when he turned on the vibrator yet again. Slanting him a look out of the corner of my eye, I said, “When you’re begging here in a minute, no crying. Or crashing the car.”

“Not to take anything away from you—because you have an amazing mouth—but it’s going to take more than a blowjob for me to beg. Or wreck the car.” Still, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, flicking his tongue over his lips as I adjusted my seatbelt until I was able to lean over and rest my chin on his thigh. “Are you sure you want to start something like this when we’re in town?”

“Oh, now you’re concerned with the possibility of being caught in a deviant act in public.” I turned my head, blowing a steady stream of air over the tempting bulge a few inches away. “Don’t worry, Mr. Upstanding Citizen. I’m not even remotely that brazen. I’m just biding my time.”

“Right.” He spread his legs a little wider and I chuckled. “Uh, so, what was the issue with the magazine?”

“Which one?” I stretched over a little further, pressing a light kiss to the front of his pants. “There’ve been a few.”

“The one you were annoyed about when I got to the restaurant.”

“How do you know I was annoyed? And even if I was, why would you think it had anything to do with the magazine?” Judging by the slight increase in speed and the lack of stopping, I was willing to bet we were either out of the town proper or close enough for government work. Wetting my lips, I shifted until I was able to grasp his zipper with my teeth, dragging it down slowly. As I’d expected, my party trick—and by party, I meant party of two—had him sucking in his breath and exhaling out a curse. “You good up there?”

“Yeah. Wonderful.” He rested one hand on the top of my head, twirling a lock of hair around his finger. “And I know you were annoyed because you get this little crease between your brows. And you purse your lips in a half pout.”

“Hmm.” Later, I’d have to wonder how he was already so familiar with my facial expressions. Right now, I was a little busy exacting payback for the last couple of hours. Even though my mouth was watering, I didn’t immediately pull out his cock. Instead, I continued to breathe slow, steady breaths through the gap in his pants, chuckling again as his cock hardened even further. “Just a little hiccup with one of the new hires. I’ll give her another chance to turn in an article worth running. If she can’t come up with something by Monday, I’ll have to do a quick write up to make sure we have enough copy.”

“Is there any, uh, reason, why her work isn’t worth printing?” His voice might have been a half octave or so higher, breathy and a little shaky, but his hand on my head was still steady. “I’m assuming it’s more than some editing problems.”

“We can talk about it later.” I’d wanted to tease him, the way he’d teased me. It seemed only fair. But this close to his cock, I couldn’t hold myself back. I scooted over a little further, shifting until I was able to ease his cock free of his pants, sucking my lower lip between my teeth as I studied the long, thick shaft. “You’re going to want to concentrate on the road now, darling.”

I flicked my tongue around the head, the precum salty and sweet. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I slid more of his cock in my mouth, stroking the underside of his shaft with my tongue. In this position, I couldn’t take more than a third but if the flexing of his fingers in my hair was any clue, it was more than enough. I wanted to see his face, to watch what I did to him, but I’d have to settle for listening to his labored breathing, for feeling the muscles in his thigh jumping under my cheek.

I crossed my legs, clenching my own thighs as the dull throb of the vibrator turned in to a series of quick pulses. In response, I increased the suction on his cock, tapping my tongue on the small hole steadily leaking precum. When he tightened his grip in my hair, all but yanking me up to a sitting position, I winced, his cock slipping free on a pained gasp. “Abraham.”

“I lied.” His eyes were wide and more than a little wild, a thin line of sweat sliding down the side of his face, a single drop hanging from his jaw before dripping on his shirt. “Before. About a blowjob not being enough to make me beg. I lied.”

“Oh.” I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know my smile was more than a little wicked. Unbuckling my seat belt, I slid over, propping my chin on his shoulder and taking his ear between my teeth for a quick bite. Slicking my tongue over the red skin to soothe the ache, I said, “Well, as long as you don’t wreck the car. I’ll admit, I’m growing a little fond of this front seat.”

“Yeah, me too.” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel yet again, his knuckles ghost white. “I’m thinking about taking it out and having it cast in bronze. Put up a plaque commemorating the out of this world sex we’ve had on it.”

“Now, there’s no need to go overboard.” I dropped one hand to his lap, clasping his cock and stroking slowly—just enough to keep him on edge. It seemed only fair, considering he was still playing with the controls on the vibrator. “Fucking on a bronze seat would be more than a little uncomfortable.”

“You may have a point there.” He nudged the car up to about ten miles over the speed limit and I sent up a quick prayer that Sheriff Underwood wasn’t working out this way. “I’m still considering the plaque, though. Under the seat, where nobody can see it except for you or me.”

“Nice to know you expect to be on your knees at some point.” I sigh in relief when he finally killed the vibrator, closing my eyes and pressing a kiss to his throat. “Oh, thank God.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that isn’t my name.” He wrapped one hand around my wrist, squeezing gently. “I stopped. That means you do, too.”

“Oh, fine.” I stopped stroking but I didn’t let go, his cock hot and heavy in my hand. “How much farther?”

“A half mile or so. No more than two minutes.” Releasing my wrist, he reached under my dress, easing two fingers inside my cunt and gripping the small vibrator, pulling it out slowly. “Jesus, Jeannie. I’m surprised you didn’t leave a wet spot on the booth.”

“You and me both.” As much as I’d hated having the little egg shaped device inside me, now that it was gone I felt empty. “We’re not going to make it to your apartment.”

“Oh, yes, we are.” He turned the car in to the short drive leading from the road to the bar. Parking next to the back door, he unfastened his seat belt, glancing at the box of strawberries I’d pushed to the floor while sucking his cock. “Grab those. We’re going to need them later.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Hansom.” The over the top, put upon breathiness in my voice shifted in to a genuine squeal when he dragged me face down over his lap, yanked my dress up to my waist, and delivered five sharp smacks to my ass. “Damn it, Abraham, that hurt.”

“Good.” He hauled me upright, devouring my mouth with his for long seconds before pulling back. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you what hearing you call me ‘Mr. Hansom’ does to me.” He rubbed one ass cheek and then the other with his palm, gliding one finger down the crease between them. “Gets me all worked up. Makes me want to do things to you which might be considered a little... unorthodox.”

“Mr. Hansom.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping when he dug his fingers in to one ass cheek. Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, I lifted one brow and said, “If you think you’re going to shock me by implying you want to fuck my ass, you’re very, very wrong.”

“Oh, Jeannie Jackson.” I wouldn’t say he melted against me. If anything, his cock, pressed between our stomachs, grew even harder. But he sighed, long and deep, pulling me in for a kiss that had everything inside me going soft and liquid. He drew back, not really breaking the kiss, and murmured, “I swear to Jesus, if you get any more perfect, I’m gonna have to go back to Savannah and get the biggest diamond ring I can find.”

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to praise me or scare the devil out of me.” Although the idea of wearing his ring didn’t make me quite as panicky and nauseous as it should have. Blaming that little oddity on the hormones currently swamping every inch of me, I cleared my throat and said, “So are we going inside or are we going to christen the car again?”

“You can’t really christen something twice.” He opened the door, sliding out and pulling me with him, leaning back in long enough to grab my purse and the box of strawberries he was apparently obsessed with. Glancing at me, he said, “As much as I love the view, you should probably pull your dress down in case one of the regulars is lurking around, trying to convince me to open early.”

“Says the man with his cock hanging out for all the world to see.” Still, I wiggled my dress down over my hips, casting furtive looks around the parking lot. There weren’t any other cars but that didn’t mean somebody desperate for a drink hadn’t decided to hoof it out here. “What time do you open?”

“In theory, at five, but it’s not really set in stone.” Shutting the door with his hip, he took my hand, leading me toward the back door. “If I had another bartender, we could stay in bed until tomorrow morning.”

“Either you think a lot of your stamina or you think a lot of mine.” I leaned against the building as he fished in his pocket for his keys, swinging one leg absently as I studied the fields spreading out in to the distance. “Who takes care of the farm, with your father being paralyzed and you with your own business?”

“There’s a crew year round who take care of the basics and I hire on extra hands during the planting and harvesting season.” He glanced over his shoulder, his brow creasing in a tiny frown. “Reminds me, I need to call Josiah tomorrow, tell him to start looking for people for the fall. Harvest was good last year—should be better this year.”

“Careful there—keep talking like that and somebody is going to think you’re a real farmer and not just playing at being one.” I moved past him in to the bar, jumping and yelping when he smacked my ass again. Shooting him a glare over my shoulder, I said, “Keep that up and I’m going to make you kiss it.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Jeannie Jackson.” He stuffed the takeout box in my purse and slung it over one shoulder before scooping me up, Scarlett O’Hara style. “Sorry, darlin’, but I’d like to get upstairs and inside you sooner rather than later.”

“I’m not disagreeing with the idea but you’ll forgive me for being a little nervous hanging upside down like this.” To ease some of those nerves threatening to tie my stomach in knots, I took a deep breath and focused my gaze on something more pleasant. Like the glint of the barbell in his cock in the dim hall light. “Do you always wear that?”

“Since I don’t want to go through the trouble if having it repierced because the hole closed up... yeah.”

“I meant that particular piece of jewelry.”

“I can change it out but I’m not a big fan of hoops, at least on myself.” He gave my ass an absent, almost affectionate pat when we reached the landing outside of his apartment, fumbling in his pocket for the keys. “Besides, I’m under the distinct impression you’re a fan of the barbell.”

“I am.” Which might have been the understatement of the year. I’d had more orgasms thanks to that little piece of jewelry than the last vibrator I’d owned. Not that I would ever tell him that—he already had way too much power in that particular arena. “I was just curious.”

“If you’re already starting your Christmas shopping, I should tell you what I’d really prefer is a new keg system for the bar.” He nudged the door open with his foot, taking a few steps inside before setting me down and kicking the door shut. Dropping my purse on the floor, he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Still, I know that’s somewhat on the expensive side, so if you’d rather go with a pair of socks that light up or something, I understand. Why aren’t you naked yet?”

“Oh, gosh, forgive me for taking a moment to get my bearings back.” I shook my hair out of my face even as I reached behind and started unzipping my dress. “Besides, you’re wearing a fair amount of clothing yourself.”

“Yeah, but I’m working on getting mine off.” He shrugged out of his shirt, toeing off his shoes at the same time. “And I have more to remove. All you have on is the dress.”

“Are you sure about that?” I slid my arms free of the dress and pulled it forward, holding the gaping bodice against my torso. Cocking my head, I said, “Wanna bet?”

“Uh....” He trailed off, pausing in the middle of pulling his belt free from his pants. Sucking his lower lip between his teeth, he chewed on it for a moment before saying, “What do I get if I’m right?”

“My ass.” I laughed when he swallowed hard. “Now. Today.”

“And if I’m wrong?”

“You’ll have to wait for my ass.” I smiled. “So which one is it? Am I naked under this dress or not?”

He stared for long, long minutes, the clock in the corner ticking off the seconds in an almost ominous tone. Finally, he said, “You’re not wearing anything. I would have noticed by now. Hell, as often as I’ve had my hands on you today, I would have felt it.”

“Oh, honey.” I sighed and shook my head, letting the dress drop to the floor. “I was really hoping you were right.”

“So was I.” He took a step forward, nearly tripping over the hem of his pants in the process. “Jesus, Jeannie. I didn’t think it was possible you could look better with clothes on than off but fuck me if I’m not wrong.”

“I’m going to take that as the compliment you were aiming for and not an insult.” I stepped out of the dress, leaning back against the island counter dominating his kitchen space. Crossing my legs at the ankles, I said, “So I assume you like it?”

“It” was something I’d had my eye on for a while but I hadn’t bought because it wasn’t the type of lingerie you wore to fuck men whose names you couldn’t be bothered to remember. Then again, I’d never been a huge fan of lingerie in general, mostly because I operated under the principal that it was ridiculous to dress up only to rip the clothes off. Still, if he was going to react this way every time I wore something even a little risqué from Victoria’s Secret, I’d have to look at buying more.

“Uh, yes.” He shoved his pants off, moving forward and caging me against the counter. “Tell me you haven’t had that all this time and you’re just not breaking it out.”

“First, ‘all this time’ has been less than a week, so don’t act as if I’ve been holding out on you.” I laughed when he scooped me up and deposited me on the counter, pushing my knees apart and stepping between them. “Second, I bought this in Savannah. I figured you’d earned a reward of sorts and thought you’d approve of this as one.”

“To borrow your format but flip it around some, first—yeah, I definitely approve.” He stroked his hands up my thighs, pressing his thumbs in to my hipbones, his fingers flirting with the lace and mesh edging of my camisole. “And second, ‘all this time’ might be less than a week for you but it’s been a helluva lot longer for me.”

“Abraham.” I leaned forward, framing his face with my hands and brushing my lips over his. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I should but I get you’re not ready to hear them and if I’m being honest I’m probably not all that ready to say them, either.” He eased his hands under the camisole, his fingertips grazing the curve of my breasts. “But damn if I don’t feel some sort of way every time I’m with you, Jeannie Jackson.”

“You’re such a sweet talker, Mr. Hansom.” It was the coward’s way, I knew, to say the one thing which would have him shifting from unstable ground to something a little more solid. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer and said, “Take me to bed, Abraham.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Jeannie Jackson.” He banded one arm around my torso and took a step back, supporting my ass with his other hand as he lifted me off the counter. Turning toward the sleeping area, he said, “The only reason I’m doing what you asked is because you asked so nicely.”

“And I didn’t even say ‘please’.” I pressed a light kiss to his temple, directly over his eyebrow piercing, and another to his cheekbone. I dropped a third and a fourth on the matching dimples on either side of his mouth before finally taking his lips in a long, slow kiss which had him tightening his grip on me even as something deep inside me trembled. Drawing back, I murmured, “Please, Abraham. Take me to bed now.”

“Jeannie.” He sighed, lowering us to the mattress, pressing his long, lean frame against mine. Planting his elbows on either side of my head, he nuzzled the curve of my neck, making a deep sound in the back of his throat which might have been satisfaction. “I couldn’t tell you ‘no’ even if I wanted to.”

Because I was starting to get the impression I couldn’t tell him ‘no’ either, I didn’t tease him. Instead, I helped him pull the camisole off, tossing it to the floor before threading my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. “Would you say I was a good girl for the last couple of hours?”

“I’d say you were an excellent girl.” He dragged his teeth down my neck, nipping at my shoulder. “I’m thinking you have a specific reward in mind.”

“I would really enjoy it if....” I trailed off as he slid down my torso, taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking just hard enough to tie my stomach in knots. “Sorry. Lost my train of thought.”

“No worries.” He treated my other nipple to the same attention before continuing his downward journey, pausing to flick his tongue around my belly button. “Pretty sure I know what you wanted to ask for.”

He settled between my thighs, spreading them wide with his shoulders as he pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss to the smooth skin directly above my clit. He slid two fingers over my cunt, spreading the wetness around before using those same two fingers to open the folds gently. His mouth was close enough that when he sighed, long and deep, the pressure of his breath brought up goosebumps on my skin. “I ever tell you how pretty your pussy is?”

“Uh, no.” And for some reason the idea of him down there, having an opinion one way or another on the attractiveness of my most private parts was more than a little disconcerting. Raking my fingers through his hair, I said, “Abraham, not to be rude, but there are better things you could be doing with your mouth than complimenting me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He gave me one long lick before looking up at me, his eyes darkening. “Might want to hold on to something.”

I snorted. “Why would I—.”

I didn’t even get a chance to finish the question. Between one breath and the next, he drove three fingers inside my cunt, pressing them against my G-spot with almost brutal force. At the same time, he took my clit between his teeth, tapping his tongue piercing against the hard little bundle of nerves.

I might have died. I’m almost certain I stopped breathing for a minute so I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out my heart had simply given up on me, too. It seems ridiculous to call the explosion that ripped me apart and tore me inside out something as mundane as an ‘orgasm’ but if I was being technical, that’s what it was.

And yet... and yet.

Before I came down all the way, before my body had a chance to even being to knit itself back together, he used those fingers and that tongue to drive me up again, wrenching a sobbing gasp from me, and I realized the first orgasm hadn’t broken me nearly as much as I thought it had. If it had, the second one wouldn’t have been as devastating. It wouldn’t have caused tears to fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks and I would have been able to breathe and I wouldn’t have considered the possibility that I needed this—needed him—for the rest of my life and not having either of those things wasn’t something I could accept. I was far gone enough I didn’t register him moving up my body until he was covering my face with butterfly kisses, murmuring soothing, nonsense words under his breath.

“Shh, Jeannie.” He brushed my hair back from my sweat-dampened forehead, kissing my temple. “Take a deep breath. It’s all the buildup from the edging. It’s endorphins.”

“I need—.” I broke off, biting my tongue to hold back the words. Nobody else in the world would have held me to what I said in the middle of the kind of sex people fought wars over but Abraham would. And I was aware enough to know I was dangerously close to saying the sort of things which would complicate things even worse than they already were. Swallowing hard, I whispered, “Please.”

“I told you already—I can’t tell you ‘no’.” He reached down, grasping my thighs and hooking them around his waist, canting my hips upward and easing his cock inside me in a single slow push. Pressing his forehead to mine, he whispered, “I wish I could, because I’m almost certain you’re gonna break my heart, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

I didn’t tell him there was a good chance he was going to break my heart, too.

But some part of me knew it was the truth.