Page 99 of Somewhere You Belong

“Promise me,” he commands.

On a shaky breath, I say, “I promise.”

“Good girl. Now, hold on, baby.”

“But Dallas,” I retort, wanting to get more words out of him, something that tells me we haven’t made a mistake by crossing this line.

“I’m busy,” he growls before he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, spins me ninety degrees so he has the perfect access to me over the bar, and then devours me, exploring my pussy with his mouth as the cool air from the vent above us blows on my naked body.

And then I forget what I was going to say.

All I do is feel him everywhere.

My body takes over my mind, letting me experience every sensation that Dallas elicits as he moves his hands over my breasts, pinching my nipples, biting the inside of my thighs, and bringing noises out of me that I’ve never made before.

“This ismypussy, Willow,” he mumbles against my clit before sucking it back between his lips. “I’ve gone two days without tasting it and now you’re making me go even longer.”

“I—I have to work.”

“I understand”—he licks me from bottom to top—“but I don’t have to like it.”

Burying my hands in his hair, I admit, “I don’t like it either.”

“At least we’re on the same page about something.” Dallas runs his tongue over every inch of me, sucking my clit between his lips, pushing two fingers inside of me, slowly rubbing them in and out, caressing every inch of my core. He eats me slowly, purposefully, and intensely until my orgasm starts to bloom.

I can feel myself getting closer to the precipice, but then he abruptly stops touching me.

“Dallas…”

He stands up, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, but his beard still glistens with my arousal. Cradling my head and my hip, he spins me back so my entire body can lie on the bar again, and then he reaches beneath the counter and grabs a bottle of tequila.

“Are we drinking?” I ask, my body still vibrating with my release that’s just out of reach.

He holds the bottle above my stomach, pulling the cork from the top. “I am.” Gently, he tips the bottle, and a small amount of alcohol fills my belly button, overflowing down my hips on either side.

“Holy shit,” I gasp while watching his every move.

Pleased with the amount, he puts the bottle down and then grabs one wedge of lime, placing it between my breasts before he leans down and swirls his tongue over each one. Then he takes a pinch of salt from the container on the bar and dusts it over both of my nipples.

I’m about to be a human shot glass.

“Do you know why I chose tequila for this, Willow?” he asks as his eyes bounce up and down my body, admiring his work.

Trying not to pant in desperation, I reply, “Why?”

“Because tequila can mess you up if you let it, or it can lend you the courage to do things you wouldn’t otherwise.” He grips my chin in his hand and turns my head so I can see him when he says, “And that’s how you make me feel.”

Before I can reply, he lets my chin go, drops his head to my stomach, and sucks the tequila from my belly button, licking the remaining trails of it from my skin. He drags his tongue up my stomach to my nipples, cleaning the salt from the pebbled peaks, and then takes the wedge of lime between his lips, sucking the juice from it.

I watch him with fascination, growing more desperate as the seconds tick by, but Dallas spits the lime out on the floor and then smashes his lips to mine. Swiftly lifting me and cradling me in his arms, he turns away from the bar and heads toward a door in the back.

He opens the door to reveal a small staircase, holding me to his chest as he climbs higher and higher to another door, turning the knob and entering a small apartment before setting me down gently on my feet.

I push his shirt over his head, dragging my nails down his chest and stomach as he tosses it to the side. Then he cups my face in his hands and brings his lips back to mine.

No other man has ever had control over me like this before.

And I’m not sure that another man ever will.

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