Ellis groans, a stuttered sound.
“Are you close?”
A grunt.
“I want to hear you come for me, Ellis. I want to remember the sound so I can replay it later when I’m spilling over my fist.”
There’s a breathy huff, followed by a muffled moan, and my own cock throbs as I hear the evidence of Ellis’s orgasm. It washes over me like the most satisfying dunk in a sun-warmedlake, and I let myself be submerged. I let that familiar comfort cocoon me, so much more potent than a physical release.
I exhale slowly before opening my eyes. “Better?” I ask.
“Still…miss you,” Ellis huffs out between breaths, but the words sound like a smile.
“Miss you, too, big guy.”
“Want to…pick you up,” he says.
“From the airport?”
A grunt.
“It’s a long drive. You don’t have to.”
“Want to,” he repeats.
I can’t keep the smile off my face. “Okay, then.”
“’Kay.”
I tip my head back against the wall, feeling like I’m floating in blue. “You better not eat all the corn before I get there,” I say softly. “I think there’s a cob with my name on it.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Ellis laughs. It’s the most perfect sound.
Chapter 27
Ellis
Combine harvesters are massive machines. Our headers clear twelve rows of corn at once, which lets us harvest over ten acres an hour, easily. And at ten-hour days, that puts my workload at well over a hundred acres.
Unlike during sweet corn season, field corn is harvested once dry. The machines do all the work, not only snapping the ears of corn off the stalks, but also separating out the kernels from the cobs.
I don’t mind the long days. The temperatures are cooler this time of year, and even though somewhat monotonous, it’s simple, easy work. The only reason I keep checking the clock today is because Lucky will be here in less than four hours. He’s already on a plane, heading this way.
My insidesbuzzjust thinking about it. The sensation has been steadily building for weeks, an incessant itch I can’t scratch.
He’s almost home.
It’s six o’clock when I call it a day and head back to the warehouse where my truck is parked. Before I can reach my vehicle, I hear my name called. I stop, pivoting as Riley jogs my way.
“Hey,” he says, giving me a smile as he stops in front of me. “I’m meeting a few guys at the bar tonight. Wanna come?”
I pause, mulling over my response. “Raincheck?”
Riley nods, accepting that easily, but I want to explain. Not many people make an effort to include me the way Riley has, and I appreciate it.
“I…” He waits as I formulate words. “Luck is coming home.”
His smile hitches up a bit. “Where’s he been at these days?”