Page 72 of Broken on the Mountain
I lean down, sliding my mouth over him in one smooth motion.
The first taste of his dick floods my senses, all salty and masculine musk. I swirl my tongue around the thick head, tracing the ridge before shifting closer in my seat, allowing myself to take him deeper.
His cock fills my mouth and I hollow my cheeks as I suck hard.
"Fuck, Piper—" His voice breaks, hips jerking beneath me.
The truck engine rumbles beneath us, vibrating through the seat as I work him with lips and tongue. I pull back with a wetpop, admiring the way his cock glistens before I lick a slow stripe from base to tip, running my hand along the impressive length.
"Christ—you can't—" He grips the steering wheel so hard I hear the leather creak. "Piper—"
I take him deeper this time, relaxing my throat until he hits the back of it. The slight gag makes my eyes water, but I love it—love the thickness of him, the way he stretches my mouth, the desperate sounds spilling from his lips as I bob my head up and down, choking myself with his cock.
His hand tangles in my hair, not pulling, just holding on like I'm the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.
"When we get home," he grits out, voice rough and wrecked, "I'm bending you over every surface in that apartment."
The filthy promise sends heat pooling between my thighs. I moan around him, the vibration making him swear again, and take him even deeper. My nose brushes the coarse hair at his base as I swallow around him.
"Jesus—Piper—"
The truck slows, his foot clearly easing off the accelerator. His hips lift off the seat, pushing deeper, and his grip in my hair tightens, guiding my movements. I surrender to it, letting him use my mouth, loving how undone he sounds.
"Gonna—fuck—"
His cock pulses in my hand, flooding my mouth with spurts of his deliciously salty release. I swallow it down, greedy for every drop, moaning and working him through it until he's shuddering and spent.
When I finally pull off, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, he's staring at me like I've just performed a miracle.
"You," he rasps, shaking his head with a smile. "I'm so happy you're back."
I tuck myself back into the passenger seat, still tasting him on my lips, warmth spreading through my chest that has nothing to do with what just happened and everything to do with beinghere—back in Stone River, away from Mother's icy disapproval and Saturday's looming disaster.
Next weekend's gala event flashes through my mind again. The preparations, the beautiful gown, the fact that I won't be—
No. We're not doing this all weekend, Piper.
I shut that thought down before it can take root. Not this weekend. This weekend belongs to us. To this.
Chase shifts in his seat, adjusting himself with a satisfied groan, and I glance up through the windshield expecting to see his apartment building.
Instead, The Bear Paw Café's faded green awning fills my vision.
"I thought we were going to your apartment?" I sit up straighter, taking in the scene beyond the glass.
Main Street looks like someone detonated a small town festival. Colorful tents dot the parking lot, strings of bunting stretch between lampposts, and people mill everywhere with steaming bowls and tasting spoons. The scent of roasting peppers and cumin drifts through the truck's vents, making my stomach growl.
Chase grins beside me, that up-to-no-good expression making my stomach flip.
"Chase Morrison." I swat his arm. "What's going on?"
His grin widens. "Surprise?"
Before he can elaborate, Charlie streaks across the parking lot balancing an enormous cast-iron pot against his chest, the contents sloshing dangerously. He's wearing an apron that readsKISS THE COOK OR TASTE THE CONSEQUENCESand dodging Betty, who's chasing him with a wooden spoon raised like a weapon.
"You add beans to my chili station, Charles Finnegan, and I'll ban you from my café for amonth!" Betty's voice carries across the lot.
"It's calledinnovation, Betty!"
