Page 117 of Small Town Firsts
Lennon stepped up on the footrest behind the bar and snatched the glass out of my hand. “Go on, you two lovebirds.”
I frowned. “Put me down.” I looked around. “We’re at work.”
He put me down, looking mildly contrite. But it didn’t last long, because he grabbed my hand and dragged me across the dining room, to the patio.
I glanced at Beckett, who stopped talking to Hayes as we rushed through the room. Great. This didn’t look at all suspicious. Nope.
Ronan rushed me down the steps and across to his workshop. “I worked all night.”
“You didn’t go home?” Now that I looked at him, I noticed how disheveled he was. The top part of his hair was scraped back in a stubby tail while the rest of his curls rioted around his ears. His work pants were splattered with a rainbow of colors, and he smelled of syrup and lemons. Thankfully, he’d put on a shirt, because I left him shirtless at around two that morning.
“Nope. I was too keyed up. Now, I think I’m a little buzzed.” His dark eyes were unfocused. “Whatever. It’s a good day.” He urged me past the workbench that was littered with glasses.
“What’s going on?”
He pulled me into the fermenting shed with two large steel drums. There were a number of smaller containers stacked along the wall. I’d never really been back here before. It was the only temperature controlled area in his workshop.
The pasteurizers were in another part of the farm, but he’d been working toward that part of the process. The last few weeks had been perfecting the formula.
Luckily, most of the small batches could be done right in the workshop until he and Hayes decided which would be mass produced.
“First.” He slammed the door and crowded me against it. His ginger scent had a tart, lemon tone to it, and then his mouth was on mine. The kiss skipped teasing and went right to intense.
I didn’t have time to push him back and remind him a bunch of people were out there waiting for me. Mostly because my brain went offline and I found myself wrapping my arms around him.
He lifted me off my toes as one hand snuck under the skirt of my dress to grip my thigh and hike it up along his hip. He ground his rapidly hardening cock against my center. “Just a quick taste,” he said against my mouth. “Promise.”
And then we both went under again. He rolled his hips to grind himself against the cotton panties I was wearing. His hand went higher on my hip to find the top band of my underwear.
“Are you wet for me? Can I see?” His pupils were blown out as he nipped my lower lip.
“Did you drag me in here to get laid?” I huffed out a breath and tugged his hair.
“No. I dragged you in here to show you something, but then you looked so pretty and fresh.”
“So, now you’re going to make me a wrinkled mess?”
He licked his lips and stared at my mouth while his long fingers slipped down into the front panel of my panties. “I like wrinkling you up. I like touching you. I like you in my space.” He ducked his face into my neck. “I like your taste on my lips.”
I gripped his belt loop. “Ronan. How much have you had to drink?”
“Kind of a lot. God, you’re pretty.” He leaned harder and his shaft dug deep into my thigh. “I already miss being inside you.” He slipped the tips of two fingers along my slit. “Let me sink in for just a second. Just so I can taste you.”
“Ronan.” I stared at him, all unfocused. An edge of excitement vibrated off him that was very contagious. I relaxed with a groan as he slipped two fingers into me and twisted so he could pulse lightly.
“Ahh, there it is. Slick for me. I just need a little taste to get through the day.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I showed Beckett and his brothers my new brews. The brews I made because of you. For you.”
I tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but even buzzed, Ronan knew exactly how to get me off. “You let them taste Firefly?”
He rubbed the top of my pussy with his palm as he pushed back into me. “Yeah. So much of me and you. It’s all for you, you know. My sweet and saucy muse.”
Before I could reply to whatever that meant, he covered my mouth and drove me up and through a ridiculously fast orgasm. He swallowed the groans, and the rumble in his chest made me grip whatever I had available to me.
His muscular shoulders, his side—I could only hold on as he left me shattered against the door. As I came back down, the hum of the machines invaded my senses. The coolness of the steel door along my thigh since he’d flipped up my damn dress.
And then he slipped his fingers free of me and licked them right in front of me. “If I could, I’d bottle this.”
I didn’t have words for that one. I wasn’t sure I could come up with any at all right then.
