“You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I’d tell that guy off every day of the week if I had the opportunity and—fuck me.”
 
 He stops when my mouth wraps around his dick. Even though he’s tall and I’m average, his cock is long enough, hard enough, that I can reach just fine.
 
 “Should we…should we be doing this here?” he manages to ask as I swirl my tongue around the tip of the head.
 
 “Asks the man who has literally eaten me out in front of the window.”
 
 “Yeah but that was…the middle…of the night…Jesus fucking Christ you’re good at that.”
 
 Dax grips at the wall but there’s nothing to grab. Finally he lowers to sit on a pile of boxes, making my job easier. I can sit on my knees and enjoy him. Every delicious inch of him. With my hand around the shaft and suck and swirl and draw circles around him, lapping up the precum and teasing the sensitive spot on the inside of the head.
 
 I have to be honest. I have always enjoyed a blowjob. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the act of it. Maybe it’s the taste. The feel. The fact that the moment your mouth makes contact, the man buckles. Power trip maybe? Honestly, I am just going to go with all of the above.
 
 As Dax’s thighs tighten, he grabs my hand, gripping it in his fist. “Fuck baby, that feel so good.”
 
 I run my tongue from the base to the tip, up and down again before gripping the girth of it in my hand, pumping to keep the blood flowing. Then when I can feel him getting close, I cover the head with my mouth, stroking harder, faster, more firmly all while sucking.
 
 “Fuck! Baby girl…I’m going to–” Dax covers his mouth with his own hand to stifle the groan as I finish him off. I aim towards the corner of my mouth and swallow hard, taking him in until he is finished.
 
 Dax’s muscles go limp and I pull back with a smile, wiping a single drop of him from my lip with my thumb.
 
 “Fuck…” he says again. “That was…”
 
 “Good?” I ask, standing up.
 
 He lets out a little laugh, still winded. “Yeah, I’d fucking say so.”
 
 “Good,” I say, bending down to his face. “Don’t forget it.”
 
 I give him a kiss. And then I walk out, feeling hotter than ever.
 
 Chapter 27
 
 Libby
 
 “Don’t they make electric sanders?” Dax asks as we sit on the floor in the back of the shop.
 
 “Probably. But this is the real way to do it,” I smile at him as I scrub a sheet of large grain sandpaper over the kid’s bookshelf that probably has four layers of paint on it.
 
 “Okay, grandpa,” he mumbles, doing the same on the other side. It looks like we are washing cookware that has lasagna baked into it. “But really, I could go buy–”
 
 “We aren’t buying anything. Unless it’s more elbow grease. Now put some of those beautiful muscles into it, Hemingway. I’m making you look bad.”
 
 Dax grumbles and I smile. I didn’t make him help me with the kids’ shelves. He did offer to buy new ones which I also turned down. After I blew him in the supply room he offered me an olive branch in the form of telling me he wasn’t in fact going to get rid of the kids’ corner after all, an argument I can’t wait to have with Kai.
 
 As much as he’s complaining, it’s been nice. It’s a Monday and while we are usually open on Mondays, I kept the store closed for cleaning and renovations. It’s also raining so we wouldhave been slow anyways and the girls have school, so it’s been rather nice.
 
 “You were right,” I say as I take a sip of my latte from our earlier coffee shop trip. “I should have gotten a large.”
 
 “You know what would solve that problem in the future?” he asks and waits but I know what he’s going to say, and I decide to just let him say it. “An in-house coffee shop.”
 
 “Ugh…” I let out. “But it’s so impersonal.”
 
 “What about being able to order a coffee at your favorite bookstore is impersonal? Think about it,” Dax, who is currently sitting cross-legged, adjusts himself to come to a crouching position. “You’re browsing the store that smells like old books and original wooden floors that your brother didn’t cover in tile. And then you get the scent of coffee beans. Cinnamon. And is that….oh yes. Fresh baked cookies. And now, you’re spending money in the store getting all the dopamine.”
 
 I shake my head but I’m smiling. So, when he leans in to kiss me I let it happen.
 
 “You are something else,” I say when the vanilla latte kiss ends. “But I’m not knocking a hole in the wall of my bookstore.”