Page 24 of Be-Leaf in Love

She hums and moans, then gasps as I pinch her nipple just hard enough to get a reaction. Her hips tilt forward, pulling me deeper as I rock, admiring every inch of her soft peachy skin. The curve of her hip. The dark rose of her nipples. Her fair cheeks as they become flushed, her eyes half closed.

She blows out a ragged breath, smiling softly. “This is…so good.”

“It’s just the beginning, baby.” My teeth scrape gently along the side of her neck, making her shiver again. “You’re mine, Violet. Just like I’m yours.”

Her eyes widen, and although she doesn’t say anything, she nods slowly. It sends fire through my veins.

My hips surge, my cock hard as steel as I thrust faster, deeper. At some point, we cross the line between making love and outright fucking. A faint blush stains her cheeks and throat as Violet grips me, muscles tightening as she half rocks, half rides me. My thumb brushes her clit gently, feeling that delicious split second when she tumbles over the edge.

“Jack…” she gasps, then I feel her inner walls clamping down, squeezing me tightly as her head falls back.

I clutch her, guiding her up and down my length, taking her hard and fast straight through her climax and into mine. Her nails dig into my skin as her mouth drops open with a ragged, weak cry. Her orgasm seems to go on and on, then my body seizes up, rigid as the detonation starts in my core, trembling outward through every muscle. I pump hard, long spurts of come filling Violet over and over.

“Wow,” she murmurs, her head flopping forward to land on my chest.

“Yeah. Wow.”

Rocking her gently, I nuzzle her hair. “When we can walk again, I’ll get you into the bath. Or would you prefer the hot tub?”

Her chin tips up and her mouth makes the cutest little O shape. “You have a hot tub?”

17

VIOLET

Igaze around Jack’s sundrenched kitchen, trying to read between the lines of his home.

Sure, there are polished stainless steel appliances from fancy companies. But there are also three sets of salt and pepper shakers – from Spain, England, and Las Vegas. There are artistic glass sculptures on a high shelf, and a stack of well-worn Italian cookbooks that judging from the age I would bet belonged to his grandmother.

This morning, before he got in the shower, he pointed to his closet and said to help myself to anything I wanted to wear.

It’s barely been a week, and he doesn’t care if I go rummaging through his private things? Jack is an open book.

I sip my coffee, wearing a pair of his blue boxer shorts and a navy button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to my elbows. When he comes into the kitchen, the first thing he does is laugh.

“I’ve loved everything you’ve ever worn. But that? Perfect finishing touch.” He tugs at the dark purple floral tie around my neck, then kisses the top of my head on his way to the coffee pot.

“I know you didn’t buy this. Where did you get it?”

“It was a sixteenth birthday present from my mother.” He shoots me a grin. “I love that you zeroed in on my very first tie.”

Jack pours himself a coffee, then leans on the counter, blowing across the surface for a moment before taking a sip. “You make it a bit stronger than I do. Wow. I like it.”

So wonderful that he always encourages me to do things my way. Even though he’s much older, he’s not set in his ways. He really is totally open to change.

This moment, being so comfortable in his home after the most incredible night last night, makes all my reservations fade away like morning mist.

“While you were digging in my closet,” he says, “I’m sure you noticed how much room there is in there. I could clear half of it in less than an hour.”

“What are you suggesting, mister?”

Jack takes a sip of coffee, leaning back. Does he even realize how freakishly sexy he is in that snug t-shirt and those gray track pants that leave nothing to the imagination? “I’m just saying. There’s plenty of space for plants in the sunroom. The gardening storage shed could be your potting area. There’s all kinds of potential here if a certain beautiful lady decides to move in with me whenever she feels ready.”

My heart hammers. He’s dead serious.

“I didn’t mean to shock you,” he says quickly, noticing my reaction. “It could be down the road. We could switch our schedules around so we’re working the same hours, and I could drop you off at the shop every day. Just…you know… When you’re ready. Or when your family thinks that’s a good idea.”

Part of my brain starts doing the quick math. My mom and sisters already like him, and the way he treats me. He is super insistent that I won’t interfere with his company, just improve it through greenery.

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