Reese draws in a breath. “Yes.”
“I’ve thought about this pretty cock.” Her voice gets rough and rasping. She unzips him. Unbuttons. His cock is so rigid it springs free into her hand without effort, and at the touch of her fingers, flesh on flesh, Reese is afraid he’s going to spill all over them both. “Touching you. Tasting you.”
“Please…” he manages to breathe.
“Tell me how you’ve thought about it. About me.” Her fingertips stroke along the wetness leaking from his cockhead. “About what we did.”
Reese’s entire body is clenching and tense, but he focuses on her voice. Then on her face. He doesn’t dare look down at her hand squeezing him just beneath the head of his prick. He’ll come for sure.
“I think about it all the time. You riding my face. How you tasted and smelled. How much I loved your pussy on my mouth.”
Corinne’s breath hitches. “Oh. Fuck. That, yes. That was good.”
“I want to make you come again, that way. Let me.” It’s not quite a plea, not really begging, but he sees by the flash in her gaze that she likes the way he asked.
“You’re already late,” she tells him. “You don’t want your dad to get angry.”
His father will probably already be angry. There isn’t much Reese can do about it. They’ve been clashing for years, and it seems like nothing Reese does anymore will make the old man happy. He’s given up trying.
When Corinne withdraws, Reese lets out a gasping plea, snagging her wrist to keep her hand on him. Immediately, her expression turns cold and dark, a fire extinguished. She says nothing, merely looks at the circling grip of his fingers, but he releases her at once.
“Sorry. I just wanted—”
“You want what you want,” she answers sharply.
Reese frowns. His balls ache, but so does his head. There is a weight behind his eyes that will only get worse the longer he goes without sleep or the nudge of caffeine.
“Everyone does,” he snaps.
Quicker than a blink, his jaw is in her fist.
“You,” Corinne says, squeezing and releasing him, “don’t talk to me that way. Behave yourself.”
And though he is horny and annoyed and exhausted, all Reese can think of is pleasing her. Not just so she’ll get him off, though he can’t stop himself from wanting that release. No, he wants to please her for reasons he can’t fully understand, has never tried to decipher, and generally tries to pretend he doesn’t feel.
“I’m sorry,” he says and adds, softer, “Ma’am.”
Her smile tips up a bit on one side. “I like way that sounds on your tongue.”
“I like the way it tastes,” Reese whispers.
Heat flares again in her gaze. She gestures for him to move toward her. To kiss her. Her hands thread through his hair. Her mouth is open. Sighing, moaning, shivering. She nips his lower lip and pushes him away, turning her face when he tries again to get at her mouth.
“Go, now,” she tells him. “I’m not going to fuck you in a car on the side of the road.”
Disappointed, he sits back. The sky is getting pink. There are lights on in the barn. He’s really late.
“No,” Corinne continues thoughtfully, drawing his attention back to her. “Next time, I’m going to fuck you in a nice, soft bed.”
With a strangled groan, Reese lets his head fall back against the seat. “You’re killing me.”
“Yes,” she says, “but softly.”
He turns only his head to look at her. “Will you let me take you out?”
“On a real date?” She looks faintly surprised.
“Yes. Of course, on a real date.” He’s annoyed again, not sure why.
Corinne lets her tongue dent her lower lip for a moment before she answers. “Yes. Dinner. A movie. The works.”
“The works,” Reese agrees. A yawn fights its way out of him. He rubs his eyes. His cock is not much softer, but he’s trying to will away his erection at least enough so that he can get out of the car. “I really needed that coffee.”
For a second he thinks she’s going to turn stern again. Part of him hopes she does. He can’t get enough of it.
But Corinne smiles and shakes her head. “No, puppy. What do you do after you help your dad in the morning?”
“Go back to sleep until it’s time for the afternoon milking.”
“Right. And so you’re sleepy now, but you’ll be back in bed in what. An hour?”
“Less than that,” he admitted with a glance at the sky. “He’ll have done a lot of it already.”
“And if you’d had coffee, you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You’d be up all day, running on empty.”
It’s the truth, and he knows it.
“I don’t like tomato juice,” he says. “Tastes like pennies.”
Corinne smiles. “Fair enough. I’ll remember that.”
He leans across the center console to kiss her once more, taking a chance that she won’t chastise him again. The kiss is sweet and lingering. When he tries to draw away, she holds him by the collar for a moment, staring deep into his eyes.
“Good boy,” she says.
And Reese is lost to her.
Chapter Six