Page 26 of Promise Not To Fall

With his mouth on my left thigh, he slowly licks a trail upward until his nose hits my damn clit. He breaths in deep and then growls.

Keeping one hand on my hips, he uses his thumb and pushes the edge of my panties down just above my pubic bone. It’s enough that I know he sees my landing strip. Drawing back slightly, he reaches beside him for the salt, sprinkling it over the path his tongue has just made. Reaching up, he places the lime in my mouth.

Is he serious?

Yep. Looks like it.

I take the lime. Fumbling around, he takes the shot and lowers himself once more between my legs. Wanting to tease him, and maybe torture myself, I spread my legs a little farther apart.

His jaw tenses, his eyes a little darker as his hair falls in his face. Nothing is being said, but this is by far the sexiest shot I’ve ever experienced. I’m kind of hoping the same goes for him and this isn’t something he does all the time.

Jake licks the path he made with the salt, his tongue flat and wet against my overly heated skin. Electricity and anticipation courses through my body, provoking me to jump on contact. He notices and grips my thighs a little tighter, holding me still. I’m certainly not going anywhere, am I?

Pulling away, he takes the shot, throwing his head back. And now he’s staring at me with something similar to a lion just before they pounce and devour their meal.

Devour me, baby. Lick me dry. Oh, Kendall, there’s so many things wrong with you.

At some point I must have bitten down on the lime because the juice dripped down my chin and neck.

And Jake, well, he takes full advantage of the juicy mess and literally licks my neck and chin, capturing the juices. When he’s finished, he takes the lime, smiling the entire time.

Our lips never touch, and I’m sadly disappointed. Ah, sad face. I wanted to kiss him.

With a dirty smirk, Jake leans in, bringing his lips to my ear, his right hand on the back of my neck. He fists a handful of hair and tugs, just a little but enough that my body breaks out in a sweat. “I bet if I pushed these panties aside, you’d soak my fingers, wouldn’t you, City Girl?” His left hand moves higher until the pad of his thumb is between my legs. He strokes his thumb over my clit, separated from his skin by the thin wetness of my panties, with just enough pressure that I want to scream and then shove his entire hand up there.

To say my body is now officially more liquefied than the drinks this wicked, beautiful-looking bartender serves his customers would be the biggest understatement of the night. I need him as much as I need my next breath. I’m praying that this night ends the way I’ve envisioned, because this ache wasn’t going to go away on its own.

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