Drunk on Love(79)

“I want your mouth on me,” he said. “Right now.”

She tugged his boxers down and knelt over him on the couch. And then she sucked him into her mouth, and he couldn’t help the low moan he let out.

He kept his eyes open so he could watch her. He liked how intent she got when she did this—she worked her tongue, and her teeth, and her fist hard, and she looked so fucking hot while she was doing it. It felt so good that soon he couldn’t think about what she was doing, but was just trying to hold on, make it last longer. But then she moved faster, and he came so hard he couldn’t think of anything at all.

She crawled up and laid her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“I did not come over for that,” he said. “Or, rather, just for that. But I’m really fucking glad it happened.”

She laughed and moved one of his hands down to her breast.

“That was a remarkably chaste massage you gave me, you know,” she said. “But despite that . . .” She pulled her dress down, that tight dress that clung to her boobs and ass, and moved his thumb over to her nipple. “These have been hard for the past hour.”

“Mmm, I’m very glad you told me that,” he said. “I have a feeling that the next massage I give you will be significantly less chaste.” He pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders and reached around to unclasp her bra.

“Bedroom,” he said. “Now.”

When they got into her bedroom, he pulled her dress all the way off, tossed her bra on the floor, and pushed her underwear down and kicked it aside. Then he backed her onto the bed and pushed her until she fell onto it. She lay there and looked up at him.

“I like it when you tell me what to do,” he said. “I like it a lot. But now, it’s my turn to be in charge.”

He saw from the look on her face that she liked that.

“Well, then,” she said. “What are you going to do with me?”

He looked down at her, naked in front of him. He wanted to touch her everywhere. He wanted her to think of him, and this night, every time she looked at her left knee, or touched that dimple in her thigh.

He put a hand on the arch of her foot, ran it all the way up the inside of her leg, and then down the other side.

“Everything,” he said.





Nineteen


THE FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY, LUKE had just pulled into the lot at the inn when he got a text from Craig.

    CRAIG

Hey Luke—Brian’s leaving, his job is opening. Interested? Let me know if you want to talk about this



Craig wanted to know if he was interested in Brian’s job? He was stunned. He never would have expected this two months ago. Hell, he never would have expected this five minutes ago. He’d assumed his bridges there were all burned, but even before that, he’d assumed that no one there particularly valued him, or his work. Hadn’t they all thought he wasn’t smart enough, tough enough, good enough? Was he wrong about that? He must have been, if they wanted him to even apply for Brian’s job.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about this. Six months ago he would have been thrilled. He should still feel that way, shouldn’t he? He guessed he sort of did. Flattered? Yeah, definitely. Triumphant that they’d come back to him, after everything? Yeah, that, too, he supposed. Nervous? Suspicious? Maybe a little angry, all over again, at how they’d treated him?

All of that, too.

Was this for real? Craig had always been good to him. He wouldn’t have reached out if they already had someone else in mind and this was just some bullshit fake interview, right?

He walked into the inn, but before he could set his coffee down and figure out how to reply to Craig’s text, his mom walked in with Pete.

“Before you yell at me, I’m only here for a second to sign those checks,” she said.

“I was going to bring those to your house later on today, you know,” he said. He knew she was only here because she couldn’t stay away.

“I know, I know, but you’ve done so much for me already. Plus, Pete had to take me to the doctor today, so it was on the way.” He just looked at her. “Well, okay, not that far out of the way.”

“I tried,” Pete said.

He looked at Pete and they both laughed.

“But look, I have a new cast!” his mom said. “A lighter one!”

“You’re still supposed to rest for the next few weeks, that’s what the doctor said,” Pete said.

She made a face.

“I will, I swear. But I’ve missed this place.” She looked around the lobby, a smile on her face. “How was your weekend?”

He’d spent every moment of it that he could with Margot. She’d been at the winery a lot, but they’d been together every night and every morning. She’d cooked an elaborate meal for him the night before, and he had leftovers for lunch.

“It was great,” he said.

His mom beamed at him. Oh. Oh no. He could feel that smile that had been on his face. It had been involuntary—it must have just appeared there when he’d thought about Margot. And his mom must think . . .

“You spent it with Avery, then?” she asked. “Good, I’m glad she got some time off, too. That girl works too much.”

He wanted to correct her, tell her that no, he hadn’t been with Avery, he’d been with Margot. That he wasn’t with Avery, he was with Margot.