Leaving Amarillo(65)

“Since you said please,” I answer, doing as he requested.

“That’s it, baby. Just like that.” My nipples harden from his praise and unwavering stare. Gavin’s expert fingers find my most sensitive spot immediately as he slides through my center, dipping in and out of my opening. “My sweet, wet girl.” The mirror shows me his muscular forearms flexing at his efforts and I could come again already.

“I might not be able to stand up in the shower if you keep going.”

His hand stills between my legs and his arousal strokes my bare ass. “You want me to stop?”

I shake my head, still held captive in his gaze like prey locked in a predator’s in the mirror. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with holding me up and bathing me.”

“Anytime, Bluebird. Anytime.” Gavin grins and quirks an eyebrow before breaking our bonded stares to dip his head and place a searing kiss against the sensitive skin on my neck.

My whimpered moans escalate to pleading cries as he strokes my heat more intently.

“Gavin, oh God.” My voice is strained, as is my entire body. I buck hard against him, and he tightens his hold on me.

“Please,” I beg, but I can’t get anything else out of my mouth that makes sense.

If feels so good, so amazingly, mind-blowingly good that I’d be afraid if I didn’t trust Gavin implicitly.

The realization hits me almost as hard as my orgasm does. This is why it’s so different, so amazingly consuming and overwhelming, and so much better than anything with anyone else ever was or ever could have been. I trust Gavin. I trust him and I love him. With all my heart.

I’ve given myself over to him completely.

Once I come back to earth, I meet Gavin’s livid stare in the mirror. He has this look on his face and I can almost read his mind.

“Trying to decide if we should shower or if you should bend me over this sink and f*ck me until I speak in tongues?”

His mouth curves wickedly. “I did love the hell out of watching you come like this and the idea of watching your beautiful face while I take you from behind is pretty much all I need to die a happy man.”

I lean back against his body, my boneless legs struggling to support me. His arm around my waist is doing a better job of keeping me upright than they are.

“But I think our time is running out on how much longer you can stand upright.” He winks at me.

“Shower it is, then.”

Gavin pulls me inside the steam-filled shower, rinsing my hair as if I’m a delicate doll he’s afraid of breaking. I trace the ink on his chest with my fingers while he lathers shampoo into my scalp.

“I remember this one,” I say, pointing to the lightning bolt/music note hybrid on his chest. “You got it when I got back from Houston.”

“At Black Lotus, I remember.”

I close my eyes as he moves to let the steady stream of water remove the thick, soapy lather from my hair.

“I always wondered why we went downtown that night. I thought you got your tattoos done at Jinxed Ink. I never asked why you switched for this one.”

Gavin is mid-shrug when I open my eyes. “I go where Xander goes. He does all my ink. He was freelancing at BL that night.”

Xander Erikson did my ink, too, actually. He’s the only one Gavin trusts, for whatever reason. But I was nervous and had seen him do a few of Gav’s, so when I was ready, I went to him. He did Dallas’s, too, our last name in script on his right inner forearm and the guitar on his left.

“He did mine, too. I had to make him take a blood oath before he did my bluebird.”

“I’ll be kicking his ass when we get home.”

“You love it,” I say with an impish grin.

Gavin doesn’t answer. He places a hand on my chest and presses gently until I step backward, putting my back flush against the shower wall.

I open my mouth to ask if he’s seriously mad about the tattoo, but before a single sound comes out, my attention moves south and I see his erection straining proudly between us. Liquid desire spreads instantly to my core, flooding me with overwhelming need.

“Gavin,” I begin in a breathy plea.

“I do. I do love it,” he says, taking a step closer to me and dropping to his knees. “So f*cking much.”

My head falls back the second he puts his open mouth on the tattoo below my hip. I suck in a breath and slide my fingers into his hair. For a second I think I know where this is going. He did this in bed, placed his mouth where no man’s mouth had been before. But then he pulls back and brushes a finger over my little bluebird.

“So beautiful,” he says reverently. “So f*cking beautiful.”

I try to breathe normally. “Yeah. Um, Xander did a great job.”

He looks up at me and smirks like I’m missing something. “Did you take your pants off for this?”

I shake my head, heady feelings of gratitude filling me at the sight of his jealousy. “No. I just unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down a little. I had to move my panties for him, but he was a perfect gentleman.”

“I’m kicking his ass either way.”

“Then who will do your ink?”

He tilts his head to the side. “You think I need more ink?”

“You need my name across your ass, so yeah. And then one above your dick that says ‘Dixieland Delight.’ I mean, the second one is optional but it would be a nice touch.”