Page 90 of Strike Zone

“They will probably forget our arrangement by then.”

“I’ll remind them while you’re gone,” I say.

“So, you’re staying?”

“I think I am. I still need to talk to my folks. I can’t imagine being anywhere but here.” Except wherever Wren is. I can always see myself beside her.

“I’m proud of you for choosing what you want,” she says, not taking her eyes off the drawing in front of her.

“Whatcha thinking, birdie?”

“Nothing.” She’s got her creepy fake smile painted on her face. “We should get started if we’re going to have this done before dinner.”

I tip her chin up. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk about all those nothings that are bothering you.” I kiss the top of her head.

Wren lets out a deep sigh that resets her back to her robotic factory setting. She directs me around the barn taking measurements and mapping out the different parts of the store. Once we’re ready, Colt and Mason will build the checkout stands and flower arranging tables out of scrap wood we have lying around.

“What did Willow say she wanted over here? We were just talking about it this morning.” Wren stares at the corner of the barn. “It’s on the tip of my tongue. Damn it. I knew I should have written it down.”

“I’ve got something for the tip of your tongue,” I mutter to myself as I finish taping off where she wants the cutting station to go.

“What was that?” She whips around in my direction. I stand up, holding the roll of tape.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

She steps closer to me. “No, I want to know.” Her palm meets my chest, branding me through my shirt.

A long sigh escapes me. She’s not going to let me walk away from this one unscathed. Maybe if I flip my hat backwards, I can distract her. I’ve done it before and it’s worked like a charm. Her eyes trail up my biceps as I lift my arms, removing my hat and shaking out my hair, before flipping it on backwards.

She bites on her lower lip, then raises an eyebrow. “Nice try. What.” She takes a step forward and I move back one. “Did.” Again, she moves closer to me until she has me pinned in the back corner of the barn. “You. Say?”

The scent of wildflowers nearly suffocates me as she pushes her body against mine. Her blue eyes are a shade darker than usual. Is my little bird turned on?

“I said. I have something for the tip of your tongue.”

Her eyes rake over my body. “Prove it.” She takes a small step back and waits.

“You want me to whip out my dick?”

“If that’s what you intended for my tongue? Then yes.” She puts her hands on her hips. I glance at the front door of the barn. “They’ve seen it before, buckaroo.” She smirks.

“I’m going to kill Colt for telling you about that.” With a sigh, I unbutton and lower the zipper on my jeans. Then whip my dick out like I would if I were taking a piss except I’m rock hard at the moment.

Wren steps forward and drops to her knees. Her hands stroke up my thighs until she reaches the waistband of my pants and underwear. She looks up at me for consent before pulling my jeans and underwear down around my ankles.

One of her hands caresses my bare thigh and my dick grows harder in my palm. Her eyes go wide and she licks her lips. Taking my dick in her hand she strokes me gently, before licking from root to tip. “Fucking hell, birdie.”

“I licked it so it’s mine. That’s the rule, right?”

“Yeah, it’s yours, birdie. What are you going to—” Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Wren wraps her lips around my dick and sucks me down whole. Her hands roam over my thighs and my ass while her mouth and tongue work me over.

I pull her hair out of the band and add it to the other one of hers I wear on my wrist. Collecting all of her hair, I wrap it around my hand and hold the back of her head.

“Do you know how many times I pictured those lips around my cock?” I ask. She responds with a whimper. “I jerked off more than once to the thought of your pretty eyes staring up at me like this.”

Her eyes water as she bobs her head on my cock. I wipe them away when they fall on her cheeks. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucks me down faster. My grip tightens on the back of her head and she slows down, edging me back from my orgasm. I grin down at her.

“Are you going to let me cum down your throat, birdie?” I ask. She responds by running a finger down the crack of my ass and massaging my balls. Fuck. She’s too good at this. “I’m close,” I warn her. She nods the best she can.

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