“It fails, nothin’ I can go back to, Amy,” he replied. “Ralph’s pretty much the only game in town and it isn’t lost on him that I’m doin’ those patches. He hasn’t said anything but that keeps goin’ and growin’, he’s gonna get pissed. I quit and compete, he’s not gonna like that. I go down, he won’t take me back.”
“Even if you do patch jobs by yourself and do the chief job, it’s better than you having to go to a job you hate every day for the next fifteen years.”
His eyes strayed to the view.
I slid a hand up his wet chest, his neck, to cup his jaw and regained his attention.
“And it won’t fail,” I told him firmly. “You won’t let it. This means something to you. And I’ve noticed something about you, Mickey Donovan. If something means something to you, you go all out. No fear.”
His eyes dropped to my mouth. “Go all out.”
I shifted against him and repeated, “Go all out.”
“No fear,” he muttered.
“No fear,” I reiterated, my own gaze moving to his mouth, hoping he’d kiss me.
He didn’t.
He shifted me so I was again leaning my back against him.
But then his hands moved.
His lips at my ear, he said, “My heiress needs to hone her organization skills. I got groundwork to lay before I put Ralph’s shit in my rearview and I could use your help.”
If I’d go to the ends of the earth, I’d find him payroll software.
I didn’t give him that information. I didn’t have the concentration (not that I thought we were at a place for me to share that information).
“Like I said,” my words were breathy because his hands were still moving but with intent, “whatever you need.”
“Whatever I need,” he murmured, one hand dipping low, one hand up and curving.
“Mickey,” I whimpered.
“Need my heiress to come in her kickass tub for me.”
“I think…I can…do that,” I stuttered, pressing my hips into his hand.
He rolled his finger on my clit then slid it down so it filled me.
My head dropped to his shoulder.
The fingers of his other hand pinched my nipple.
I gasped.
Mickey started finger fucking me.
Oh God.
So good.
“What about you?” I whispered.
“You’re gonna blow me in your bed after we get outta the tub.”
I absolutely was.
But first, it was my turn.
Mickey didn’t disappoint. He pinched and rolled and rubbed my nipple as he kept finger fucking me. Then he moved his hand to the other nipple and went back to my clit as his mouth started working at my neck.
I squirmed and ground and arched and whimpered, clutching at his thighs, the warm water swirling, the beautiful view forgotten.
“That…keep doing…that,” I begged as he added more pressure with some twitching and tugged at my nipple.
“Baby, wanna come in your mouth, stop dickin’ around,” he teased against my neck, but his words were growly and I could feel his hardness at my back.
The idea of that with all I was feeling drove me over the edge and with a gasped, “Oh God,” I was soaring.
I barely got my feet back to the ground before the water surged with Mickey pulling us both out of the tub. He did a half-assed towel down of me and the same with him before he tugged me into my room.
He wasted just enough time to light my fire before he pulled me to the bed and on it.
He lay on his back, head and shoulders to the headboard, knees again angled, his beautiful cock rigid, long and thick, lying on his flat belly and I felt a shudder that was like a mini-orgasm just looking at all his power and beauty laid out before me.
I let myself have that then I “dicked around” no further, curling up between his legs, wrapping my hand around his cock and shifting it to my lips.
My eyes went to his.
Heated.
Impatient.
Hungry.
That look in his beautiful eyes all for me.
I slid him deep and lost his eyes as he closed them. I watched his head push into my headboard, his jaw clench, the muscles in his neck tense, the veins bulge as I felt his legs tighten at my sides.
God, he was so beautiful.
He gave me what he gave me in the tub and he gave me that.
So I gave him more.
And I did not mind in the slightest when his hands that had swept up my hair at the sides so he could better watch me go down on him, cupped my head and pushed me down to taking him deep when I heard his groan and he shot down my throat.
When his hands relaxed, I stroked him with my mouth, licked him clean then released him, kissing my way up his chest until I was at his neck.
He wrapped his arms around me, rolled us and covered me with his body.
He lifted his head and looked into my eyes.
“Want lunch?” I asked.
“You still hungry after that?” he teased.
I grinned, lifted up and kissed him.
He kissed me back, it started sweet and got deep before he ended it and belatedly answered my question.
“Definitely could eat.”
“Finger foods,” I whispered.
“What?” he asked.
I looked beyond him to the alarm clock then back to him. “We have four hours until my kids get here, around the same until yours get back. Finger foods we eat in this bed. No muss. No fuss. No preparing. No cleaning. So we have more time, just you and me. It’s no hunting cabin,” I grinned, “but it’ll have to do.”
His eyes warmed on me. “Sounds perfect, baby.”