Drop Dead Gorgeous(57)

Blake moves the car left and right, probably to make it seem as though he’s avoiding something in the road, but really just giving himself longer to look at the Horne house in the rearview mirror. “She’s coming out too. Yvette. Red dog. Guy . . . leash . . . dog. Shit.”

I’ve unbuckled his belt, too excited by the throbbing I can feel behind his zipper and wanting to feel it without that barrier. “Can I?”

“Fuck yeah. Yeah, Zo. Anything you want.”

I hear the creak of his grip on the leather steering wheel, can feel the tension through his body as he forces himself to stay still, and love the feeling of power over him this gives me.

Slowly, I unbutton and unzip his slacks to let them fall open and pull the waistband of his black boxer briefs out and down to free his erection. He’s pretty, not that I’d tell him that.

But as pretty as a dick can be, Blake’s is—long and thick, with one vein running the length up to the mushroom head that’s weeping for me. I stick my tongue out and sample the clear fluid and he moans above me. The encouragement excites me, and I shift in my seat to get a better angle, cursing my seatbelt but not willing to take it off.

He wouldn’t let you anyway. Safety first.

Though I’ve never heard Blake utter those exact words, I can hear him saying them clear as day. They’re so like him—a risk taker, but only after calculating all the odds. I have no doubt that if we were on a freeway, not an empty back country road, he would never allow this.

But for now, he’s mine.

My own fears of the dangers of driving try to creep up my throat, but I swallow them down, along with Blake’s cock, trusting him to keep us safe on the deserted road. He’s salty and earthy along my tongue, teasing past my lips into my mouth. He lets out a deep groan that vibrates all the way down to his hips as he flexes to give me more.

“Ah, fuck,” he hisses, and then he reaches over me and I hear him put the car in park. “We’re safe, no one’s around. Please—”

His voice cuts out as I suck him in again, deeper this time. His hand goes to my jaw, fingers wrapped toward my bun, not forcing or guiding me but just feeling me move over him.

Now that we’re still, I unclick my seatbelt and move around to get a knee underneath myself, changing the angle I can take him at. This is better, deeper, and I hum with satisfaction when I feel his tip enter my throat. I wish I could tease this out, take him to the edge and drive him crazy, but this is not the time.

Not when we’re parked wherever it is we are, with a very real chance of getting caught looming. So I speed up, sucking with hollowed cheeks and using my hand, twirling my tongue over his head. It’s not long before he taps my shoulder—such a gentleman—and I nod, doubling down on my efforts. He understands perfectly, and a second later, I taste his release.

Spurt after spurt of creamy liquid fills my mouth, and I swallow reflexively, trying to keep from getting any on his fancy slacks. I lick him clean, kissing his crown and then easing his boxer briefs up over his softening cock.

I sit up in my chair, wiping at my lips and smiling like the cat that got the canary.

“Damn, you look good like that,” Blake whispers, his eyes hazy but looking at me.

“How? Like I just sucked you off?” I tease, figuring that’s every guy’s dream.

He blinks slowly and lifts his head from the headrest to shake it. “No . . . well, yes. But I meant . . . happy. You looked that way earlier too, when you figured out the smoothie thing, and when you got in my car and touched the wood like you always do—”

“I don’t always do it,” I balk. “Only twice.”

He shakes his head, smirking. “Every time you’ve been in my car, your nightstand, my island.” His voice heats at that. “I went around my house, putting coasters and figurines and wood boxes everywhere so you’d always have something to touch for good luck. Because I like that smile.”

He reaches over to trace my lips, but my smile has fallen, shocked that he would do that . . . for me and my weird little habits.

“Thank you.” It’s all I can find to say, too choked up with how much something so seemingly small means to me. In reply, he leans over and kisses me. We kiss deeply, thoroughly, and when he pulls back, I can’t help it. My lips lift again.

“There it is.”

I smile even bigger.

“Where are we?” I finally ask, looking at the world outside Blake’s car.

“Down the street from Horne’s. I saw the for-sale sign and figured I could park in the driveway without being too suspicious.” He shrugs almost shyly. “I couldn’t focus to drive safely anymore, not with your mouth on me.”

A big shot of pride shoots through me.

I, Zoey Walker, did that to him.

“Okay, so you think we can drive back out of the neighborhood the same way? Like we’re just two people who came to look at the house?”

I lean forward to look at the house in question. It’s another ranch-style house with a locked gate next to the driveway we’re parked in, cedar shutters surrounding every window, and an iron-framed glass front door. I couldn’t afford one month at this house if Jacob and I pooled our money for a year.

“Needs work. I don’t think it’s the one,” I joke, feigning sadness as I shake my head.

“I have something else in mind. You up for a little double-oh-seven work?” Blake asks me with a daring smile.