My moan settles through the trees as she takes me deep into her mouth with the first touch of her lips.
All thoughts vanish.
All cares are gone.
It’s just me and her mouth and the warm, wet suction she uses that has my head falling back and my hand wrapping around strands of her ponytail, begging her to slow down so I don’t come so fast and urging her to go harder so I can.
It’s heaven and hell and fire and ice and every lustful tug between.
I see stars as her tongue slides over me and around my tip. She moans as her hand grabs my balls to play with them while her mouth suctions around me and takes me deep.
“Blake.” My groan is guttural and raw and is exactly how she makes me feel.
She adds pressure with her hands, her fingers, her lips. Faster. Slower. Softer. Harder. I begin fucking her mouth as the pressure builds and the need swells.
My hands grip tighter. My muscles tense. My cock throbs. My growl cuts through the silence as she swallows every last drop I give her.
My head swims, and my body sings with endorphins.
It takes a few seconds to wade through the post-coming haze, but when I do, Blakely is standing before me. Her lips are swollen, her eyes are heavy with desire, and her hair a mess. She’s never looked more beautiful.
“What?” I ask as she just stares.
“There. We’re even.”
“Even?” I laugh as I tuck my dick back into my pants.
“You surprised me last night. I surprised you today.”
I take a step forward. “That’s a dangerous game to start playing with a man who loves dares.” I put my hand on the back of her neck and pull her into me so I can kiss her. It’s brief but packs a punch, and when it ends, I keep her close so she can see my eyes when I speak. “There is no even in sex, Blakely. There’s pleasure. There’s wanting to make the person you’re with fly. There’s enjoying watching them soar and knowing you gave that to them. If sex is a contest you have to win, then you’re doing it all wrong.” Another kiss that, this time, begs me to fuck her. “I’ll always get mine in the end . . . it’s the journey to get you there that makes mine all that much more enjoyable.”
“Oh.”
My favorite sound of hers again.
But I love the way her throat moves as she swallows hard, how her eyes widen, how her breath hitches.
“Hey, Blake?” I pick up the tackle box and chuckle. “You can be bossy with me anytime.”
Blakely
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me fish?” I ask as I glance to Slade, who is texting someone yet again.
He’s been the most attentive man in the world this entire trip, but now that I need his help, he’s on his phone.
“I thought that was against the rules?” He quirks a brow.
“Doesn’t seem to me like you care too much about rules in the first place.”
“Guilty as charged.” He flashes me a grin that screams mischief. “And yes, I am in fact helping you as we speak.”
“On your phone?”
“Yep.”
“Do you care to explain because texting is not helping me.”
“Yes it is.” He tosses his cell onto the cooler and leans back on his hands. “You should be catching a fish in about ten minutes.”
“What am I missing here?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me what you have planned for Heather?” he offers.
I’m not sure I like that trade.
“You’ll know when it happens.”
“Okay.” He lifts the bottle of beer to his lips and takes a long sip of it. “Then I guess I can’t tell you how you’re going to win the fishing contest today.”
I bark out a laugh. “Win? We’ve been sitting here for over an hour without a single bite on my line while we can hear others shriek in excitement when they catch one on whatever designated spot she gave them.”
“Exactly. This whole contest was rigged, which is what I figured would happen after going drinking with the boys the other day. Horrible Heather’s man was a little loose-lipped when he finally decided to join us. He kept talking about how she was picking everyone’s fishing spots.” He shrugs. “I may have done some reconnaissance on my morning jogs. I befriended a few locals who fish out here daily.”
“So, you’re saying . . .”
“I’m saying she gave you the one place in the entire lake where you have the worst chance of catching a fish. The waterbed here has some kind of algae in it the fish won’t eat, so they don’t bother with the area.”
“That bitch.”
“Yep.” He nods. “And according to Dan, she knows which location is affected by it.”
“It shouldn’t surprise me.”
“It shouldn’t, but what I’ve done to fix it should.” He looks over his shoulder. “And there he is. Right on time.”
“Slade?” I say as I rise to my feet when I hear someone whistling on the path that leads to our little beach. “Who’s that?”
“Impeccable timing,” Slade says to the man as he stands and jogs toward where the cutest little old man appears. He has on a bucket hat covered in hooks and lures and tufts of his gray hair are peeking out beneath its rim. He’s wearing dark green waders and is carrying a large bucket in one hand. “Ed. My man.”
The two shake hands as water sloshes over the side of the bucket. I stare, my jaw slack with shock because it’s easy enough to assume what’s in that water.
“Perfect,” Slade says and the two of them laugh over something before Slade pats him on the back and thanks him. Ed grants me a mischievous smile before giving me a mock salute and then turning to go back to wherever he came from.
“Slade Henderson. Who’s Ed? What is that?”
He offers me a devilish grin. “Ed is Ed and this is your winning catch.”
I look into the bucket and
