Page 124 of Swept for Forever
33
AUTUMN
There was a time when my biggest worries were exams and relay meets. Not the face of a man who might want tokillme.
Susan Nolan’s sketch stuck with me. It even showed up in my dreams. But luckily, I had Dom beside me, a man I’d gotten used to faster than I’d gotten used to contact lenses or early morning training swims. Sleeping alone? I didn’t miss it. Not one bit.
I turned toward him and snuggled close, my chest pressing against his back.
He groaned, his voice sleep-rough. One arm reached behind to hook me in tighter, and I didn’t need a second invite. I got closer. And then a little more. My hand wandered, my fingers creeping down.
And there it was.
Goodmorning, indeed.
His wood was impressive, to put it politely. And I was never all that polite before coffee.
Dom let out a chuckle, still half-asleep. He knew exactly what I was up to and wasn’t about to stop me.
That was the thing about Dom. I’d learned he let me get away with pretty much anything in bed. But not out of laziness. Not even indulgence. No, helikedit. He liked that I was bolder now. A little bratty, even.
I slipped beneath the covers with a hungry slink, tugged his boxers down with my teeth, and wrapped my lips around him without so much as a good morning.
He was already leaking.
“Oh…Otter,” he groaned, his hand sliding across the bed as if searching for something to hold on to. Too late. I had him.
My mouth was full, literally and figuratively, so I didn’t reply. I just kept going, finding my rhythm even though I knew I wasn’t graceful. I wasn’t going for technique. I was going forhim.
He tried to keep still but failed miserably. His hips twitched, and his thighs tensed. Beads of precum salted my tongue, and I chased them eagerly.
“You like mine that much, huh?” he rasped, trying to keep some composure.
I didn’t answer, didn’t slow down, and that told him everything.
His breath caught. “Baby, I’m gonna come.”
I didn’t stop.
“Otter…oh fuck…”
And then he was there, groaning deep and pulsing hot in my mouth. No more licks or hovering. I swallowed, paused just briefly, then did it again. My throat worked harder than I’d anticipated, but I licked every last drop.
He pulled me close instantly despite his panting. Like a ritual, he always kissed me after, no matter what I’d just done to him.
“Jesus, Otter,” he breathed against my cheek. “What did you just do to me?”
I smacked his arm. I tried to, anyway, but I might as well have swatted a boulder. “Don’t act like that was your first time.”
“It was. With you,” he reasoned. “I mean…” He let out a long sigh, then gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You made me see God. Twice.”
So it was true. Spit or swallow did matter to a man.
I snorted and did a cat stretch, trailing my fingers through the hair on his chest. “No finesse. Just results.”
He took my hand and brushed a kiss over my knuckles. “You’re great. A little scary, but great.”
I rolled over onto my back. “How’s it feel to be a retired womanizer?”
