Page 8 of Tributary

CHAPTER SEVEN

Diana

I REALLY WASN’T going to get involved with Asa Wexler. He’s in business with my family. I’ll have to see him again. He breaks all my rules. But he’s intoxicating and, damn it, he’s good at games and interested in my plants and that turns me on so much I can feel my jeans melting off my thighs.

When he leans in to kiss me, I sink my dirt-covered hands into the lapels of his designer coat and pull him against my body. Not caring that I have a glass store window and I’m sucking face with a billionaire for all the town to see, I moan into his mouth as he deepens the kiss. And my god. Asa Wexler can kiss.

His lips are soft and insistent. He smells like cold air and the combined aromas of the witch hazel and mint he just sucked off my finger. I could get lost in a kiss like this, as his tongue slips into my mouth and gently tangles with my own. He releases a small, deep moan into my mouth and I pull back. “This is just sex,” I tell him.

“Just sex,” he says, bringing one hand to my hip, his big fingers curving around my body to stroke the skin of my back, his thumb teasing inside the waistband of my jeans.

“I’m not showing you my lab,” I tell him, and then I gasp as his other hand snakes up my back and deftly unclasps my bra.

“You want me to fuck you right up front, then?” He arches a brow at me as he starts to unbutton my shirt. My breath comes heavy and fast as he opens the worn fabric. I try to think about his question logically. I should not have sex in the front of my store on a weekday morning in Oak Creek. But then again, it can’t be much past eight, and people don’t trickle in until after 10 most days.

By the time Asa shirks my top to the ground and yanks off my bra, I’m not thinking rationally. He lowers his head to my chest and begins to suck on my nipple, and I abandon all other thoughts.

“Shit, Wexler, that feels good,” I hiss as his teeth clamp down around my skin. His tongue is cool from chewing the peppermint and the oils from the plant zing against my sensitive skin. One giant hand comes up to massage the breast his mouth hasn’t gotten to yet, his soft skin smooth against my tender flesh. That gentle tongue feels so fine as he circles the peak of my nipple, flicking it, teasing it until it’s so firm and sensitive I might come just from his tongue on my tits.

“You like getting dirty where people might see?” He growls, moving over to the other breast while I just lean on the counter and let my head drop back.

“Mmmm,” I moan. I don’t want to think about his question. I don’t want to think about anything right now. How long has it been since I went out hunting for a man to cool me down? This isn’t cooling anything. I feel heat radiating from his body through his clothes as he presses against me.

Asa unzips my jeans and kneels on the floor in front of me. He yanks down my pants and my underwear in one rough tug until everything is pooled around my ankles, all caught in my work boots. But he seems not to notice that I’m dressed like a farmer, because he nudges my thighs apart and buries his fucking tongue in my pussy and I’m gone.

This is not scratching an itch. Asa Wexler is delivering some next level, presidential oral and before I can even decide what to do, I feel an orgasm crashing through me like a meteor. “Holy shit,” I pant, “Oh, god, ohgodohgod. I’m coming. I’m coming.” I can’t feel my limbs. There is nothing in this world apart from his warm tongue, his hands pinning my hips against the counter, and my nipples still wet from his earlier ministrations.

“I knew you’d taste like magic,” he says, pulling back from my body as I start to come back to earth. His hands are gentle on my legs, my belly, as my body trembles in aftershocks. And then, just as suddenly, he spins me around so I’m bent over the counter. I like that he’s taking charge like this. I don’t have to think. I’m too busy coming again as he pats my clit from behind.

I gasp as he juts a knee between my legs, opening them as wide as they can go with my pants around my ankles. He nips my shoulder and tugs on my ponytail until I’m looking up into his blue eyes. He’s got a scruffy beard from not shaving this morning, and I like that. I like it a lot more when he kisses me and reaches around to stroke my wet folds. “You’re soaked,” he says, his voice gravely and low. I can only moan in return when he removes his hand. I hear him rustling around and when I turn over my shoulder, I see him opening a foil packet.

I watch as he unzips his designer pants, and I lick my lips when he pulls out the thick stem of his cock. He doesn’t even rumple his shirt, just lifts his shaft from his boxers and rolls the condom over his smooth, glistening tip.

He grins a wolfish smile and puts one hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to fuck you now, goddess of the forest, and I’m going to ruin you for all the other hunters.” And then he slams into me.

I grip the edge of the counter for support as he drives his cock into me deeper, harder, again and again. My tits start to shake from the force of it all and I feel totally out of control. There is nothing other than Asa’s cock and the way it stretches me, fills me. I grunt from the effort of bucking my hips back against him, but he doesn’t allow me to do that.

His hands hold my hips still until I’m totally at his mercy. “You like that, Diana?” He bites my shoulder again as he rams his cock into me. This is what I didn’t realize I wanted. To have all the decisions lifted from me, if only for a few moments. To just be present in this pleasure and let it roll through me like thunder.

“Yes,” I moan. “Please.” And I’m not even sure what I’m asking him to do, but somehow he knows. He wraps my hair around one wrist and tugs my head back again, meeting my eye, fucking me harder. “Yes! Just like that,” I beg and shout, the air crashing out of me with each thrust until I feel the waves of pleasure crashing over me again. “Shit, Asa, I’m coming again. Holy god. Oh!”

“You like when I fuck you out here, where anyone could see?” He grunts and speeds up, impossibly hitting deeper and deeper inside me as my body contracts and squeezes around him. “You like when I tug on your hair and bite you?”

“Yes! Just shut up and fuck me.” I feel weak, like my arms will give out and I’ll sink through the glass counter, melt into the floor.

“Fuck, Diana. Yes,” he moans. And then I feel his cock swell and pulse inside me as he spills himself into the condom. Both of us finally are still, pressing me against the counter. I feel like I could fall asleep here, naked against the glass with the buttery smooth cotton of his shirt pressed against my back, his necktie tangled in my hair.

Our chests rise and fall together as our breath slows. I start to enter my brain again, gathering my thoughts as I come down from the high of the best sex I think I’ve ever had.

“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, wiping a smudge of dirt from my arm, his thumb stroking my skin gently.

“Is that so,” I ask, gesturing down to my boots and jeans puddled at my ankles. “I wouldn’t have thought the farmer look was real popular on the Upper East Side.”

He kisses the tip of my nose. “It’s not.” And then he stands and starts tucking himself back in, rolling off the condom and looking around for a trashcan. He spots the tiny wastebasket behind the counter and leans over me, smacking my ass with his free hand. “You’re not like those Upper East Side women,” he says, hoisting me to my feet so I’m facing him, still mostly naked and disheveled. “You might be a witch, but I’d still like to see you again the next time I’m in town. Even if you’re lousy at Scrabble.”

I wrinkle my nose at him and cross my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling exposed. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Wexler,” I say, stooping to hoist up my jeans. “You’re in business with my brother…this was just—”

I can’t seem to bring myself to say it was just sex, because we both know it was more. It was a new activity requiring a new vocabulary word. Whatever the hell that was, it wasn’t “just” anything.

Asa bends to grab my shirt and tucks it around my shoulders. And then he grabs my hand and presses a soft kiss against my knuckles. “Until next time, Diana,” he says, and then he struts out of my shop into the sunshine, sparkling bright against snow.

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