Page 56 of Vodka And Virtue

“Would you like a taste of my curry sauce?”

“Would you like a taste of my cock?” he countered.

“I’ll trade you.”

I sauntered over to him, swaying my bare hips, and dipped the wooden spoon between his lips.

“Mmm, delicious,” he praised.

Laying the spoon on the counter, I dropped to my knees and slipped his cock in my mouth. I gave him two strokes of tongue and lips before pulling off.

“Mmm, delicious,” I repeated.

I went to stand, but he palmed my head, pushing me back down between his legs. “Finish me,” he rasped.

“I have to stir the sauce,” I evaded, playing coy.

“Fuck the sauce. Finish me.”

The way he commanded me, that sexy-as-hell gravelly voice—finishing him off was the only thing I wanted to do.

Ever. Over and over.

* * *

Before I knew it,another week had slipped by. Time moved too quickly when I was with Rory. I wanted to bottle it and preserve it for when I had to return home. My time with him was running short. Tomorrow, I was due to accompany him to the doctor’s office, where he would have his stitches removed and his wound examined.

Rory was feeling much better. Still sore, and not too keen on bending at the waist, but he swore he was ready to return to work. I think he was just tired of being at home. And that he was worried about Kelley’s safety, as well as the rest of us.

A cooped up, stir crazy Rory was a dangerous Rory. He was talking about starting all these new hobbies. Like woodworking and restoring another old bike. And skydiving!

I pulled up along the curb outside of the Apple Blossom Bistro and parked. Carson waved at me from one of the wrought-iron tables situated outside the café. Outside of work, I hadn’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and we were experiencing a form of separation anxiety. Ryan had called last night, demanding that I take Carson out to lunch today before work for some brother-bonding time. Apparently, he was driving Ryan crazy.

I joined him at a table for two. “Hey, Cary. Missed you.”

“Cut that shit out. Only my boyfriend can call me that.”

I had to laugh at his grumpiness. I planned on calling him Cary as many times within the next hour as possible.

“How’s Rory? Still alive? I figured if the stab wound didn’t kill him, your cooking surely would have by now.”

“He’s fine. Doing great actually. He gets his stitches out tomorrow.”

“Why do you sound miserable about it?”

“Do I? Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m thrilled he’s feeling better.”

“All right.” He exhaled a sigh. “Spill it. Tell me everything.”

“I like being there. A lot. I likehima lot.”

“And…you don’t wanna leave,” he finished for me.

I shook my head, looking down at my lap. Our waiter approached the table, and we placed two orders for avocado, tomato and grilled chicken sandwiches.

“Carly. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

I huffed impatiently. “Yeah, I get it. I’m moving too quickly and I need to come home and give this thing with Rory space to breathe.”

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