A cavern of black ice, p.9
Roots and Sky, page 9
Holding her in place, I push farther into her ass while picking up more of her slick with my thumb and running under and around her clit. She raises her thigh, and I roll my hips while finger fucking her into the next dimension.
She’s close, and so am I.
Her nipples, now hardened nubs, make my mouth water. Practically drooling, I take one into my mouth and suck with just the right amount of pressure, rubbing off against her thigh, never stopping the rhythm I’ve got going against her clit and in her tight ass.
The rhythmic clenching around my middle finger tells me she’s going over even before her groans and arching back do. I keep everything at the same pace, letting her increase the depth of my finger or the pressure on my thumb. The result is a beautiful woman giving way beneath me, the tension in her muscles peaking before she melts into the bed.
And it’s this, her long chocolate-brown hair in a tangle around her head, the satisfied flush on her cheeks, the glazed-over look in her eye, the spit-slicked nipple still pebbled with desire that finally pushes me over the edge. I add two fingers to my grind, strumming my clit as I come all over her thigh, then collapse onto her relaxed fucked-out body.
As our breathing settles, a dry chuckle shakes her tits. Mmph. I lean over and take her nipple into my mouth with a careful, soft suck.
“What’s so funny?” I breathe against the sensitive bud before taking it again.
She rolls her hips, clearly needing more attention, so I turn the heel of my hand to the side and slide it along her slick cunt, letting my fingers tickle her inner thigh while I rock up and down the length of her. She pushes against me, meeting pressure for pressure until that familiar pulsing accompanies a sharp shout. She rolls away from me, sensitive and shivering.
I wrap myself around her, whispering, “Tell me. What’s so funny?”
Breathing heavily, she gestures to the slick spot on her thigh. “Whoever called it dry-humping has clearly never had sex with a woman.”
I laugh, hugging her from behind, and slide my hand over her thigh, trailing my thumb through her soaked pussy.
“True enough.”
She adjusts again, flopping on her back before pulling me down into another lingering kiss. I straddle her thighs, laying open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck, dipping to her nipples and humping against her mound.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” she whispers, grabbing my thigh to angle me…just…fuckkk.
I press down as she arches up, rubbing our clits together, our combined wetness creating a kissing suction that’s making her eyes roll back in her head. My weak side folds after a minute, but she’s right there, holding it in place. Our eyes lock, and we build and build against each other, open-mouthed, panting, slicking against one another in this dirty bit of rubbing.
Her eyes roll back, and the eroticism of her orgasm, the soft and carnal way she’s giving herself over to me…sends me flying right along with her. We roll and push against each other until we’re both shaking and cursing and collapsing into one another.
“Holy fuck,” she says, flopping back, spread eagle, and breathing hard. “If this is you in recovery, I can’t wait till you’re back to full strength.”
“Nah,” I pant, then roll to kiss her. “This is all you.”
Chapter 10
Kinley
Waking up next to Mackenzie Nash has got to be some kind of unicorn situation. I don’t think we meant to fall asleep so quickly, but I’ve been running at about a hundred and fifty percent, and she’s recovering, so we both passed out against each other.
She says she wants to get to know me while she’s here, like maybe she’s wanting something a bit more long-term. But I know better than to take a person’s impassioned words seriously, especially when the person has been swinging through emotional extremes.
I assume when she wakes up, she’ll say whatever practiced thing she says to the women she sleeps with on the road. Something kind but distant. Sleeping together blurs the lines, and she’ll want to unblur them as quickly as possible.
Only…I kinda hope she doesn’t. She’s here for a while, and she’s a true artist. It’s clear that she doesn’t let too many others in, and now that I’ve seen this side of her, I can’t help but want more.
Not that she’s totally let me in. I am, however, peeking through the windows, and I like what I see. The thick-headedness that probably drives her physical therapist crazy is the same stubbornness that made her not give up on her dreams, even when any reasonable person would have. She doesn’t believe in failure, just a project that needs more time.
And God, I need more time with her.
I chuckle to myself, and she shifts next to me.
Her gentle, rhythmic breathing starts again, so I take advantage and really look. Her nose is perfectly straight and pert, her cheekbones are high and strong, her thick eyebrows are stunning, and when she opens her eyes, they show off her blues so beautifully. Hell, I’ve already waxed poetic about her hair a few times.
Her tattoos are abstract, surrealist, and mostly black and gray, with only hints of color here and there. Most people don’t get to see that she’s also got tattoos on her back, chest, belly, and thighs. It feels like they’re telling a story of struggle and hard-fought triumphs.
The sheet and blankets pool around her trim waist, and it’s hard not to admire her body. I do alright, but my tits are fighting a war against gravity, one they will eventually lose. Mac doesn’t have much on top, but she’s got the prettiest nipples, rosy and fat.
Not thinking, I lean in and take one in my mouth. Grabbing her side, I suck lightly, turning myself on as I do. Her hand comes to the back of my head, pressing me closer, accompanied by a pleasured moan.
“I fucking love waking up to having some part of me sucked,” she says, grinning.
“Good. I like waking you up this way.”
Diving back in, I switch it up, going for the other nipple, needing to even it out. Mac’s chest hitches, and I sneak my hand between her thighs, searching under her hood with my thumb, teasing out her reluctant clit. She pushes against me, her wetness slicking my fingers.
I spread it around, rolling her fattened clit between my thumb and forefinger. She pulls me up for a kiss, and we make out, cozy and dirty, the perfect combination. She begins to roll her hips, meeting the insistent pressure of my thumb.
Her mouth drops open, and her head falls back, and I go back to her nipples, working her over top and bottom as she falls apart under my hands, coming softly. She rolls to face me, bringing her knee over my hip and snuggling into me as she kisses me. I’m naked under all these sheets, so her hands begin to roam. She kisses the various parts of me, humming in the places she likes best.
I’m not surprised when Mac’s mouth lands on my pussy. Delicately, she spreads my lips, kissing and sucking on my already sensitive clit while dipping her fingers into my wetness. Crooking her fingers inside me, she finds that bit of real estate that intensifies everything. She keeps going, relentless until I cry out, then grins up at me, her chin wet from my slick.
“This is a fantastic way to be woken up in the morning,” she cracks, wiping off her chin to lay another kiss on my lips. “I’m going to brush my teeth so I can make out with you properly.”
We go into the bathroom, and I reach for the guest basket, taking advantage of a spare toothbrush from my supplies. We stand there, naked, brushing our teeth. It feels very domestic for what this is, which somehow makes it more erotic.
I kind of love it.
We spit and rinse, and I grab her hips, lifting her onto the countertop.
“You are so damn strong,” Mac says.
“I get that a lot.” Pushing between her thighs, I run my thumbs over her fat nipples. “Fuck, I love these things,” I say, diving in to suck and play with them a bit more.
“Someone is obsessed,” she says, amusement in her tone.
I pull back, shrugging. “Sorry. They’re just so perky,” I say, quoting my favorite eighties rom-com.
“And yours are so sensitive,” she says, cupping my breasts, weighing them in her hands.
“They’re a problem is what they are. The first night I met you, I was so turned on I was absolutely certain you could see my nipples from outer space.”
Mac shakes her head. “I didn’t need to be in outer space to see them. They were quite visible right in front of me.”
I slap my hand on my forehead. “Ugh. So embarrassing.”
“Why do you think I was flirting with you?”
“Because I was delightfully awkward?”
“That too, but your rogue nipples made my mouth water.”
“And now?” I ask, leaning into her hold.
“They’re better than I remember them,” she says, leaning down to suck them again.
After a moment, I pull back. “Okay, so we both have boob fetishes. We’ll have to play around with that later, but I’ve got some errands to run today.”
She nods as she hops down, a devilish look in her eyes. “You got time for a quick shower?”
“I probably should shower after all we got up to last night.”
“Excellent,” she says, turning on the water and waiting for it to heat up with an impatient tap of her foot.
We step in once it’s warm enough, and I am so glad I sprang for the luxury showerhead in here. Mac and I make cursory use of the soap and shampoo, not even pretending to care about how clean we’ve gotten. As soon as the last bit of soap is rinsed away, we come together, kissing and humping against each other. Quickly, if inelegantly, she kneels and buries her face between my thighs, the overwhelming pressure lighting up everything.
She sucks and licks until I’m a barely standing pile of Jell-O, shaking as I come on her talented tongue. She doesn’t stop, though, until she’s licked every bit of wetness from me. She reaches for my hand and I help pull her up to standing, before she takes me in a brutal kiss. I find that I love tasting myself in her mouth.
Running out of time, I quickly kneel and follow suit. People tend to give you what they like themselves, so I go after her in the exact same way, following her lead until she shouts, coming almost immediately.
“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice rough as she drags me into a kiss, pushing me against the chilly tiles, diving into my mouth like I’m the only source of oxygen left on the planet.
By the time we exit the shower, I am a complete spaghetti noodle, practically worthless.
“How am I supposed to run errands after this?” I whine, weakly struggling into my clothes.
“Depending on what you’re doing, I can keep you company,” she suggests, lifting her brows.
“I have a feeling that would not lead to a lot of productivity.”
“Do you have to be productive all the time? Can’t you have one lazy Saturday?”
I already know what my answer is. She doesn’t even need to push. I want to spend whatever time I can with her.
I lift my chin at her. “Fine, get ready. But if you think I’m not gonna put you to work, think again.”
She chuckles, buttoning her plaid without a bra underneath.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” I complain, tracing my fingers over the peaked fabric.
She winks at me. “You didn’t say I couldn’t make it fun.”
Good point.
When we climb into my Ford Ranger—she actually does a pretty good job of using her cane to get in—a surge of energy hits. We haven’t even begun, but I’m already having a blast doing this with her.
I stop to grab a few things from my house and set up the coffee pot for my upstairs guest.
“I’ll help,” Mac says, hugging me from behind as I grind the coffee. I’m sure that’s supposed to be annoying, but damn if I don’t love the feel of her strong arms around mine.
The upstairs door opens, so I waddle to the bottom of the staircase with Mac attached. I’m about to call up when I realize it’s Freddy, my favorite EMT, making his way down. He’s wearing a short robe, showing off his hairy thighs, and his cheeks flush when he sees us at the bottom of the stairs.
Mac is still hugging me from behind, but Freddy wisely says nothing, instead grabbing the freshly brewed coffee.
Before he turns, a familiar voice yells down the stairwell, “Freddy, darling! What are you doing? I’m waiting for you.”
Mac leans into the staircase, her voice louder than it needs to be. “Don’t you worry, Mason. Freddy was just saying hi to us.”
I turn to her and cock my brow. “Don’t give him shit. He’s on vacation.”
“What she said,” Mason drawls, coming down the stairs wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else.
Who knew that the little guy was so built? Also…those shorts aren’t hiding very much.
I raise my chin at Freddy. “Mazel tov.”
He winks. “Toda.”
I curl my arm around Mac’s and direct her away from my visitors. She looks down at our connected limbs and smiles.
I wonder about Mason’s and Freddy’s reactions to us being affectionate with one another, but they’ve already made their way up to the top floor, barely aware of us at all.
Finished with task number one, we walk to the truck, and Mac pulls me in for a kiss before getting in on the passenger side.
Hoo, buddy. Am I in trouble.
We get to town and run a few errands together, picking up supplies for the house and the cabin, grabbing some lemon bars for later, and stopping in to check on Mrs. Bridgelock. Mac takes a seat as far away as she can from the Cabinet of Nightmares, as she’s taken to calling it, but Mrs. Bridgelock seems happy to see Mac again. By the time lunch rolls around, I am starving, and my patient is looking a little worse for wear.
“Want something hearty for lunch?” I ask, sneaking in a kiss as we climb back into the truck.
“Sounds great,” she says, grabbing my hand and kissing my knuckles.
It occurs to me that she might not realize how big a gossip this entire town really is. I haven’t seen anyone try to put her on social media after my initial scolding, but I don’t know if that’ll hold if she continues to look at me the way she’s looking at me right now.
Ah, well.
A few minutes later, we pull up to The Skiing Bison, and Mac grins at the hunting cabin-meets-steakhouse vibe of the place.
“This is my favorite kind of restaurant. Not shiny, not new, not corporate, probably a couple of pretty decent health code violations in the back…perfect.”
“You bet. I think the owner scared off the health inspector the last time he was here. Pretty sure he gave her top marks with a shotgun shoved up against his head.”
Max slaps her thigh, cracking up. “I love it. I definitely need to make sure to give Mason a bonus for booking me here.”
“Oh, you don’t have control over where you go?” I ask, thinking that’s awfully weird for someone who clearly doesn’t like to be told what to do.
“I give him a general idea of the places I want to go, venues I’ve never played before, places I won’t ever play again. He takes that, comes up with an itinerary, and then sprinkles in a couple of nice surprises for me. This was the smallest stop on tour, and while it doesn’t financially make much sense for me to stop here, I think he knew I needed the break.”
“Well, you got a little bit more of a break than you bargained for,” I rib once again, highly aware that she is just a few weeks from flying the nest.
“I did need a break, but I also needed a new perspective,” she says, grabbing my hand.
“Yeah?” I ask, telling my heart to stop assuming.
She’s just being nice. Don’t read into it.
“Yeah. Guess I needed a bossy, secretly super-talented, multitasking, slightly Machiavellian genius to show me the error of my ways.”
“Hey, I probably saved a few of those talented brain cells of yours with my bossy ways. Show some respect,” I grumble, kissing her shoulder.
“Oh, I respect you. Immensely,” she says as we walk up to the hostess stand.
Charlene, the worst of the town gossips, goggles at our joined hands, her brows nearly hitting her hairline.
“Table for two?”
Where I enjoy Mac’s smirk, Charlene’s annoys me.
She leads us to a nice table. “Lucy’ll be your waitress,” she says, not even trying to hide her grin.
I lean in, and Mac mirrors the gesture.
“Ten bucks says she makes this a Facebook post,” I whisper conspiratorially.
Mac chuckles. “I’m not worried about it.”
“No?” I ask, incredulous. “Won’t this ruin your reputation as a ladies’ lady?”
The thought ruins my appetite, but I’m desperately trying to keep it light.
“God, I hope so,” she says, bringing my knuckles to her lips.
I suck in a breath, unsure how to take what she’s just said.
“Oh, would you look at that?” Mac jokes. “I shocked the gorgeous woman with the long brown hair and pretty titties. This is a banner day.”
I open my mouth to respond, no idea what the hell I would say, when Lucy comes up to the table, pen in hand.
I look down and—"Lucy! How are you even standing now?” I ask, gesturing around her rather large belly.
“This is my last shift. For the next two weeks, I’ll be resting at home while Joni waits on me hand and foot.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Lucy and Joni had a long road to fertility, including two heart-rending miscarriages, and now she’s pregnant with twins. For all of the drama leading up to this, she’s had one of the easier pregnancies we’ve seen this year, and I’m grateful for it.
“So, what’ll you have today, sugar? The special today is fantastic.”
“Girl, you’ve never steered me wrong. Give me that and iced tea.”
Mac slaps down her menu. “Make that a double and call it good.”
“You’ve got it,” she says, then leans in. “I’ll make sure Charlene doesn’t post anything. Y’all deserve a little bit of privacy and don’t need your business all over the place.”
“Thank you,” Mac says, her smile genuine. “That really means a lot to me.”
