Page 49 of Life To My Flight

“No. Don’t do this yet. Just let me have today before we ruin the day. Please?” Cleo asked.

I nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

We walked along the edge in silence, looking at the water, and listening to the occasional fish splash.

I studiously ignored the slides that indicated that the belly of an alligator had previously occupied the spot that we were currently passing.

I also ignored the fact that we were perilously close to the water.

I knew that was why Cleo was the closest. Whatever happened would have to go through him first.

We walked for a good twenty minutes before we arrived back at his house.

The outside was stunning.

“Your house is on stilts,” I said in surprise.

He nodded. “Yeah, the lands flood occasionally. Stilts are needed during the rainy season.”

“What would happen to your bike and your truck if it started flooding?” I wondered.

He shrugged. “I’d move them to the top of the road. Like I said, all the land is mine. It’s never flooded that far before.”

I grimaced. “That’s actually quite scary to think about you trapped down here.”

He gave me a perturbed look. “Honey, I’d never be stranded. I have every resource I’d ever need inside my head. Not to mention that I have a boat at the dock and a cell phone if I needed to make a call. It’d never happen.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “It could happen.”

He rolled his eyes. “Maybe to some imbecile who doesn’t know his ass from his nose. Never to me.”

“You’d just better pray it never happens while I’m here. You’d be carrying me the entire way. That black, murky water scares the shit out of me.”

He snorted and started walking up the stairs that led to his back porch.

I watched his ass as we went. The perfectly round, muscled globes taunting me.

I hadn’t meant to, but my finger extended, and I ran it down the crack of his ass.

He froze. “Watch it.”

It took me a few seconds to realize he wasn’t talking about me ‘watching his ass,’ but instead about me touching him in the first place.

“Why?” I asked once he started walking again.

“Because after that little show you gave me in the bathroom, I want nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you so hard you feel me in your throat,” he growled, spinning around, his gaze spearing me in place.

He watched as my hand clenched tightly on the wooden railing.

Watched my breasts heave.

And none of it was because of exertion.

No, this was because of pure, sexual desire.

“That wasn’t meant to get your dick hard,” I lied.

He stared at me for a few long seconds before answering. “You’re playing with fire.”

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