I’m not sure who moves first. I land in his arms, and he lifts me up onto the counter, flour everywhere, mouth crashing down on mine. He kisses me hard and deep, fingers twisting into my hair, yanking my head back just enough to make it dangerous. I slide my legs around him, pulling him in. Sauce, flour, garlic, the sharp tang of wine on his lips—I want to drown in it.
He palms my breast through my dress, thumb rough against my nipple, and the sensation short-circuits my brain. His other hand slides up under my dress, up my ribs, leaving smears of flour behind. We are half clothed, half crazy, and I want all of him, right here, now. He takes my dress and pulls it up and overmy head, tugs hard, and it’s gone. He pulls me close so our skin sticks, chest to chest, hot and frantic.
He drops to his knees, slides my panties off, and buries his face between my thighs. His tongue is the devil—slow then fast, drawing patterns that make me twitch and moan. Flour from his hands streaks my hips and my bum cheeks as he squeezes them hard while his tongue does wicked things to my clit. It takes everything in me not to scream, because I love the way he devours me. It’s like he can’t get enough, like he needs to taste me every single second of every day.
He comes up for air, eyes wild. “I want you so fucking bad, baby. I don’t care if you’re a mess, if you break shit, if you burn down the whole house. I just want you, against this counter, as hard as you can fucking take.”
I gasp, his words making me clench with need.
I yank him up and kiss him, tasting myself on his mouth and not caring. He undoes his jeans—no condom, but he asks, “You on something?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
He’s inside me in a second, slamming me into the countertop. The cold timber and the heat of him, combined with the mess we’ve made, has me coming before I get his name out. He fucks me with a force that feels like violence but is only proof that I’m alive. My back slams against the counter, but it doesn’t hurt, it only urges me on, makes me scream over and over as my head tips back and utensils go flying.
He kisses my neck, bites my shoulder, has me spread so wide it’s blissfully painful. We are both panting, moaning, wordless. His cock drives in and out of me, pumping over and over until my screams get stuck in my throat and I can’t take it anymore. We reach orgasm at the same time, his body jerking, mine trembling, and it feels as though the entire world stops.
It takes a while to come down from that.
“Fuck,” he murmurs against my lips, as he slides out of me. “I thought we’d at least get through dinner.”
I laugh, my voice husky. “Just think of how good it will taste now.”
He chuckles. “And then later, for dessert...”
He cups my ass, squeezing.
“You’re an animal.”
“I want to ask you something,” he says, his voice husky and low.
“Oh?”
“I’ve got a show in Vegas next weekend. I want you and Reagan to come.”
My eyes widen. “Like, on tour?”
He chuckles. “Well, not really, but yeah, kind of similar. It’ll be fun, I will cover both of you and you get VIP tickets.”
I blink. “I don’t...I don’t know, Trav. I haven’t told Chief about us, and I am already freaking out he will find out with all the pictures getting around. I can probably explain you leaping off stage, but traveling to Vegas with you, he’ll be suspicious.”
“Then don’t tell him, not yet. Just say you’re going to do something with Reagan for the weekend. Come on, Mischief, for me?”
I bite my lip, then sigh and laugh. “God, as if I could say no. Reagan would murder me.”
With a laugh, he turns away, pulls his jeans up, and keeps cooking me dinner, just like that.
And for a blissful moment, I can see us like this, together, years down the road.
Could it ever truly be?
I STIR AWAKE TO THEweight of a hard, hot body atop mine. Travis kisses me, softly, rousing me just enough. I cling to him, slowly waking up to his hands trailing over my body. I open to him, I’m always open to him. I moan softly as his rigid length slides in and out of me with deliberate slowness. I could wake up like this every single day.
“Trav...” I murmur.
He says nothing, only leans down to claim my mouth in a deep, intense kiss. His taste is exquisite, his mouth hot. His body, slick with a light sheen of sweat, moves with a rhythm that drives me to unprecedented heights. I grip his shoulders, lifting my hips to meet his thrusts, whimpering his name. I climax quickly, clenching around him. His silent release follows closely, his body trembling. I relish the feeling of his release, knowing it's all for me.