Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2)(28)
Her tongue does something I’ve never felt it do before, and Jesus it’s like a nuclear bomb goes off inside my body, concentrating right on my dick. I lose my rhythm as I spill down her throat. “Oh fuck, Blaze, take it all,” I arch off the seat as she swallows against my length.
My heart is pounding and my hands are shaking as she cleans me up, tucking me back into the dress pants. A smirk covers her face, and I know she’s proud of herself. If I were her, I’d be proud of myself, too. Snagging her around the waist, I pull her onto my lap, forcing her to straddle me, fixing my mouth at her ear.
“I want nothing more than to push my pants and boxers back down, move your panties to the side, and slide home. I’m dying to feel the scrape of your nails against my back, the heat of your breath against my throat, and more than anything, the grip of your pussy against my cock. It won’t be long.” The promise is in my voice and sooner, rather than later, I’m going to make damn good on that promise.
Blaze
I ache, dear God, I ache so much. I’m straddling his lap, pressing myself as close to him as I can, but it does nothing to soothe the burn. I’ve missed him, missed us coming together as one. It feels like an eternity since he’s sated himself in my body. I know we’re close to arriving at my parents’ house, but I can’t bring myself to break away from him. My arms wrap around his neck, holding on tightly while I curve my head into where he’s speaking to me in that deep voice, laced with authority, that I love so much. He’s saying something about my pussy gripping his cock, and I can’t help it, I clench on air, moaning in my frustration. I need something, anything.
“You’ll have to take this,” he whispers, before I realize I’ve said those words aloud.
His mouth attaches itself to my neck, tugging on the skin before he soothes the burn with his tongue. I grab his head, holding it tightly to my flesh as he all but makes love to my neck. His palms slap onto my thighs while his fingers inch up to the hem of my little black dress. He’s inches away from the lace of my panties, and I’m dying. Fucking dying. Because I want him to go under the wet panel, I want him to use those fingers to pleasure me, to take the edge off this ache I feel. I want desperately for us to be Tank and Blaze again. It’s one of the two missing pieces of our puzzle. We’ve done everything but have sex and talk about his issues with my job. Right now I’d literally say fuck me and the job, if I only knew we had enough time.
“Those little noises you make in the back of your throat, babe,” he mumbles as he pulls back, taking my ear into his mouth, tugging on the diamonds I have in tonight. “They’re gonna get me hard again.”
I can feel him stirring against me with renewed interest. What I wouldn’t give to tell this limo driver to turn around and take us home. I don’t even care about appearances, not sure why I care enough to make this one for my family. I’m in a dream world where the music playing is the panting of my breath and Trevor’s the conductor of the symphony when I feel the limo stop.
My eyes are blurry as I try to focus on what’s outside the tinted windows.
“We here?” he’s reluctantly letting go of my skin, pulling his hands from under the skirt of my dress and trying to set us both back to right.
“Yeah,” I reach up to my lips, wiping the moisture I can feel coating them off.
“Huh,” he grunts as he situates his pants.
“What?”
“You were right about that lipstick,” he captures my jaw in his palm, turning me left and right so he can get a good look. “Nothing we did smeared it.”
I smirk, leaning in to kiss him softly on the cheek. “See? It’s blowjob approved.”
He chuckles as the limo door opens and I grab his hand in mine. It’s show time.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Blaze
The over-the-top opulence in this house is enough to make me want to puke. It’s exactly why I ran as quickly as I could as soon as I turned eighteen. I’m sipping on a glass of champagne as I hear my dad talking to Trevor about how he supports our armed forces. It would be childish of me to say my dad supports them by writing a check and wearing a flag lapel pin on Veteran’s Day. I’m sure that counts in the “better than nothing” category.
Trevor’s holding his own, though – I have to give it to him. The look my dad gave him when they were introduced wasn’t pleasant. If Trevor had been a bug and dad had been the shoe, he would have crushed him. But Trevor gave him the firmest handshake I think ol’ pops has ever gotten in his life. That alone puts him on a level of respect for Damon Coleman.
“I’ve been trying to talk Daphne into giving up that little job she has,” he flashes a smile over my way, winking at Trevor.
If only they’d known each other a year ago, daddy would have had a firm ally in his mission to make me quit being an EMT. “I’m not gonna quit, no matter how many times you ask me to.”
Trevor takes a drink of his beer. “She’s right. I asked her to quit, have asked her to quit a couple dozen times, and she always turns me down.”
“Perhaps you should put a ring on her finger. Ya know? Keep her barefoot and pregnant,” he laughs obnoxiously. “That’s the way to teach these women a lesson who want their own life.”