His gaze met mine. “I hear a ‘but’ in there,” he said, echoing his own words from a few minutes ago.
“But…” I shrugged, and forced the admission out. “But I also kind of want to watch you fight.”
He was stunned, his jaw dropping out. “You…what?”
I ducked my head and wrapped a tendril of my hair around my index finger. “I want to watch you fight.”
“You want to watch me fight?”
I frowned at him. “Is there an echo in here? What aren’t you understanding, Baxter?”
He shook his head. “You. Why would you want to watch that shit?”
My stomach was twisting and my heart was thumping as I forced yet more truth out. “I…I just do. It’s—” I sucked in a breath, and then kept going, my words coming out in a rush. “It was kind of hot. A little scary, and kind of gross, but also…hot. I mean, you. You were hot. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself then, but I was turned on watching you fight.”
He just blinked at me. “You’re for real, right now?”
I nodded. “Yes, I am. Is that a problem for you?”
He laughed. “Hell no! I’m just surprised is all. You…you have a way of constantly surprising me.”
I crawled off the bed, retrieved his phone, and handed it to him. “Call him back.”
Baxter sighed as he listened to the voicemail and then returned the call. “Fine.” He put the phone to his ear. “Yo, Moss…a’ight, got it. Yeah, I know the place. See you in a few hours.” He hung up and tossed the phone back on the pile of clothing. “Fight’s at midnight in a clearing in the forest outside town a ways.”
“So you have until midnight?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I gotta get there a little early, plus I have to do a warm-up workout and get a meal in, and it’s a good thirty minutes from here to Ketchikan, and another thirty or so from Ketchikan to where the fight is.” He reached for me. “But I’ve got another hour or so.”
I squealed as he picked me up and tossed me onto the bed, laughing helplessly in anticipation and excitement. “So, Mr. Badd. Whatever shall we do for the next hour?”
“I’m gonna eat your pussy again, is what I’m gonna do.” He pushed my thighs apart and kissed up from my knee to my core. “And you’re gonna scream as loud as you can, and then we’re gonna fuck again. And then, maybe, we’ll take a shower together and I’ll fuck you in the shower.” He flicked his tongue teasingly up my slit. “How’s that sound to you, Miss du Maurier?”
“It sounds like you need to talk less and lick more, is what it sounds like, Mr. Badd.”
He laughed as he buried his face against my core and brought me to a screaming, thrashing orgasm within a matter of minutes, and kept me writhing and screaming and grinding against his face for another orgasm, and a third, until I was trembling and limp and aching, and begging him to stop licking and start fucking.
Which was what he did, sliding a condom on so fast I didn’t even see him do it, gliding into me on the cusp of a fourth orgasm.
But this time, instead of fucking me until we came, he stroked into me slowly, in lazy, measured thrusts, taking his time. I clung to him, explored the hard planes of muscle and the taut bubble of his butt and ran my fingers through his hair, and kissed him wherever I could reach, hooking my heels around the backs of his knees and letting him move with me as slowly as he wanted. Which was very,veryslowly. Deliciously slowly. Achingly slowly. I lost track of time, losing myself in the wonderland of Baxter’s cock filling me and stretching me and pleasing me over and over again.
Eventually, he began to move more quickly, grunting heavily as he began to thrust in earnest, and I touched myself as he moved, brought myself to orgasm in synch with his, and he bellowed and I screamed and we writhed in a sweaty tangle of limbs, and he kissed me as he shuddered to the end of his climax, and I couldn’t even scream as my own faded, too breathless, too lost in the bliss of our union.
When he finally withdrew from me and discarded the condom, it was fully dark outside. He woke his phone and swore bitterly when he saw the time. “We gotta go, babe.”
I moaned in disappointment. “We do?”
He nodded reluctantly. “That was a solid hour there, sweetheart. Gonna have to take a rain check on that shower sex.”
And so we cleaned up and finally got dressed, and then Baxter locked up the cabin and we climbed into his truck and drove back toward town. Parking in the alley behind the bar, Baxter hopped out and circled the hood to open my door for me, handing me down. It was then that I discovered something new: an intense soreness between my thighs, requiring me to move gingerly.
Baxter noticed. “Sore, huh?”
I blushed, nodding. “Very.”
“I suppose we might have overdone it a little, considering how long it’s been for you.” He frowned, massaging my lower back as we entered the bar through the kitchen door. “I’m sorry. I should have thought about that.”
I shook my head, smiling up at him. “Don’t apologize. It’s a good sore. Like after a hard workout.” I rubbed my thighs together as Baxter paused in the kitchen to steal a cup of french fries from the basket hanging over the fryer. “It’s a reminder of…us.” I’d been about to say something more explicit, but Xavier bustled into the kitchen at that moment, requiring a last second change in word choice.
