Page 35 of Driving Whiskey Wild
“Tink,” Bullet said harshly.
Tinkerbell barked and leaned against Finlay, soaking the skirt of her dress. “It’s okay,” Finlay reassured him. “I’m the reason you’re all wet, so it’s only fair that I’m wet, too.”
The pooch went paws-up on Bullet’s stomach, panting happily.
“I think she had fun,” Finlay offered as Bullet huffed out a breath and Tinkerbell dropped to all fours.
“I’m sure she thinks it’s a game, but we’re all going to stink. I need to bathe her.” He whistled and pointed to the house. “Tink. Home.”
The dog took off running.
“Can I help?” Finlay asked.
Bullet tugged off his boots, dumped out the remaining water, and pulled off his socks. “You sure? While she freaks out in bodies of water, she loves showers and baths, but you’re going to get soaked.”
She looked down at her wet dress. “I think I already am.”
“Then you won’t mind if I do this.” He began pulling off his shirt.
Finlay saw it as if in slow motion. The drenched cotton slid up his slick skin, revealing ripped abs and sticking to his muscular pecs. He shifted and his lats flared as he tugged it over his head, leaving him in only a drenched, form-fitting pair of Levi’s and bare feet. Gosh, she loved a man with bare feet. Bullet’s feet were big and masculine, like the rest of him. He held the shirt and his wet boots in one arm and reached for her with the other.
His cool, hard chest pressed against her as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. His body slid against her, getting her wet from the inside out. He made one of those appreciative sounds that sent sparks through her veins, and when their lips parted, the air rushed from her lungs.
He pressed a firm kiss beside her ear and said, “Come on, sweet thing. Let’s get my other girl cleaned up, so we can get nice and dirty.”
His arm circled her waist, but her legs had forgotten how to function. He gave her an inquisitive glance, and understanding dawned on him, as evident in the slight narrowing of his dark eyes. His hand moved lower, squeezing her bottom, wreaking more havoc with her, and for some crazy reason, her mind reeled back to last night, when she’d heard the clink of his heavy belt buckle—which was now gleaming just below his navel—on the hardwood floor.
He chuckled and bent at the knees, lifting her up with one arm around her thighs.
“Bullet!” She shrieked with laughter.
Tinkerbell bolted toward them, barking, making her heart beat even harder. She didn’t look like she was going to stop. Bullet took off running toward the house with Finlay over his shoulder, and Tinkerbell was right beside him, her dark eyes locked on Finlay. When they reached the back of the house, Tinkerbell went down on her front paws, her butt up in the air, wiggling excitedly, and Bullet lowered Finlay into his cradled arms. He pressed his lips to hers, laughing right along with her, and it was the most wonderful sound she’d ever heard.
“I really like your laugh,” she said as he set her on her feet.
Bullet turned away, but not before she saw a flicker of something that looked like embarrassment flash in his eyes. Tinkerbell licked Finlay’s leg. She reached down to love her up as they followed Bullet to an enormous outdoor washroom behind the garage. It had three walls made of the same type of weathered wide planks as the rest of the house, and a wooden deck for a floor. There were two showerheads, one up very high, obviously installed just for Bullet, and one about a foot to the left of it, much lower, clearly made for Tinkerbell. Two tree stumps served as tables, atop which sat two bottles of shampoo, one for dogs and one for humans, along with a bottle of body wash. There was a utility sink and a deep counter just inside the wall to the right and, she noticed, there was no door. The washroom overlooked more gardens and vast grassy lawn.
Tinkerbell ran around the room whimpering and pawing at the faucet.
“See?” Bullet said. “She loves this part.” He opened a door above the sink to a cabinet built into the wall and pulled out a couple of towels. He set them on the counter, eyeing Finlay with a seductive leer. “You might want to take those sexy boots off.”
“Good idea.” She sat down on the edge of one of the stumps and began unlacing her boots.
Tinkerbell plopped down beside her, and Bullet knelt before Finlay, silently taking over. He set her foot on his leg, holding her gaze as he unlaced the boot. After unlacing each hook, he slid his hands along her thigh, making her breathe a little harder. She wasn’t used to being with such a virile, sexual man, and as he touched her slowly and purposefully, like they had all the time in the world, and looked at her like nothing else existed, his desire invaded her, making her wish she was touching him. He removed that boot and her long, frilly sock and pressed a kiss to the top of her foot, then gently set it on the floor.
Tinkerbell whimpered, and in her peripheral vision, Finlay saw her cock her head, her ears perking up.
Bullet lifted Finlay’s other foot and repeated his sensual efforts. She clutched the edge of the stump. The gnarled bark dug into her fingers, which was good, because he was making her so tingly she was afraid she’d go numb.
He set the boot and her sock aside and scooted forward, between her legs, gripping her outer thighs. His strong hands pressed into her flesh, making her acutely aware of how close his thumbs were to her very needy privates. Finlay’s pulse skyrocketed as he went up on his knees and leaned forward, his beard tickling her skin as his lips touched her cheek.
Tinkerbell’s head tilted the other way, and she pawed at Bullet’s arm. But Bullet’s eyes never left Finlay’s. Her mouth watered for another taste of him.
“Ready to get wet, sweet thing?” he asked in the gravelly voice that sent heat between her legs.
“Yes” fell from her lips as she leaned forward and took the kiss she’d been dying for.
Her arms circled his neck as he pulled her legs around his waist and sank back on his heels. Passion stormed through her, releasing all her inhibitions. She kissed him rougher, fisted her hands in his hair, her tongue delving deeper into his mouth, and he was right there with her. She tore her mouth away to taste more of him, kissing his cheeks, his beard, his neck. Then she lowered her mouth to his shoulder. His skin was hot and cold at once. It tasted salty and rugged. Bullet grabbed her bottom, holding her tight as she ground against his arousal.
Tinkerbell’s paw swiped at them, catching Finlay’s arm and startling her back to reality. They both drew back, a hot current running between them as Tinkerbell pawed at Bullet.
“You’ve turned me into a nympho,” she whispered, as if Tinkerbell might understand.
“No, babe. We’ve awakened parts of each other no one else could ever touch.”
She pulled him closer, hugging him to her, and spoke against his neck. “Then I never want them to go to sleep again.”
Tinkerbell nudged her big, wet head between them.
“I think we need to wash your girl.” Finlay smiled as she crawled off his lap.
She pulled at his hand, trying to get him to rise to his feet, but Tinkerbell leapt into his lap and licked his entire face, earning another hearty laugh from her man.
“All right, you spoiled girl.” He kissed her snout and pushed to his feet, quickly stealing another kiss from Finlay.
They both got drenched and soapy as they bathed Tinkerbell, and they laughed more than Finlay could ever remember laughing. She swore Bullet was like a different man since telling her more about his experiences and PTSD. She didn’t want to change him, and hadn’t set out to do it, but the lightness surrounding him right now, at this very moment, was like a gift from the heavens above. A peek at the man trapped someplace deep within him.
Tinkerbell shook herself off so many times, the walls of the washroom looked like it had rained. Bullet used a towel to pat her down. Then she took off running around the yard.
“She won’t go in the pond?” Finlay asked as he stalked toward her with a heated look in his eyes. She couldn’t stop grinning like a fool, which he seemed to make her do often. Maybe she needed him in her life just as much as he needed her.
“Nope. But she’ll be busy for a while.” He lowered his mouth to her neck, brushing kisses there and driving her wild. “It’s my turn to bathe you now.”
He lifted the hem of her dress and she grabbed his hands. “What if someone comes over?”
“We’ll hear them. No one comes over who doesn’t drive a motorcycle.” His tongue grazed the shell of her ear, and he guided her hand between his legs.
His hardness electrified her.
“You hold the reins, lollipop. You want to go for a ride?”
“I’ve never done this before…outside.” Her voice trembled, but the idea of making love to Bullet right there, with the hot sun baking their damp skin, totally turned her on.
She was too aroused to find her voice, so she squeezed his erection, and he crashed his mouth over hers. She met his efforts with reckless abandon as they tore at each other’s clothes, and he dug out a condom from his soaking-wet wallet and sheathed himself. He lifted her into his arms, his naked body pressing deliciously against hers, as she sank down on his shaft, sighing at the incredible pleasure of becoming one with him. When he was buried to the hilt, he held her there, neither of them moving, both barely breathing, and her heart came tumbling out.
