Almost Paradise, Page 9

  his owner when she’s finally mastered a command. She wanted his praise? He couldn’t offer it. This was a terrible plan.

  “I don’t think showing up unannounced on the doorstep of the grandparents I’ve never met is a good idea.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” she said. “That’s why I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Keep it a secret, you mean,” he said, not sure if he was more hurt or angry by her actions. “Lie to me about it. Coerce me into getting your way.”

  “N-no,” she said, her voice hitching with emotion. “I wouldn’t keep secrets from you. Or lie to you. Or coerce you.”

  “Rebekah,” he said, not wanting to upset her, but she needed to see this for what it was. “That’s exactly what you did.”

  “But I just told you what I was up to, so it’s not a secret anymore.”

  “Because I made you tell me.” They sat in silence for a long moment until he began to fidget uncomfortably.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry I hid this from you, but I still want to go. I still want you to try to find your family. Family is the most important thing in the world to me. And I did this because I want that for you. I want you to know what it’s like to be surrounded with the love of your family.”

  He shook his head. “But I don’t want that.” He knew that would be hard for her to believe. Her family—though her mother was nutso—had always been loving and close-knit. He’d never had that as a child. But whether she realized it or not, he had it now as an adult. “My band is my family,” he said. “You are my family.”

  “I know you love us all, Eric, but it’s not the same. It’s just not.” She squeezed his hand as if it would allow him to understand where she was coming from. “It’s different when they’re your blood.”

  “Yeah, you don’t get to choose them. I’m happy with who I’ve allowed to be my family. I really am.” Maybe he needed to go to Bangor and show her how family—no matter how much genetic material you shared with them—could be total strangers. He felt no pull toward those people. He’d managed on his own for over twenty-five years. Why would he need them now?

  She glanced away, her expression sour. His current mission was to make her happy, but neither of them would enjoy this trip if they were at odds. If it brought her joy to keep reminding him that his past sucked, so be it. He’d weathered far worse.

  “I’ll go,” he said, not regretting his hasty decision when she brightened with a relieved smile.

  “You’ll go?”

  “On one condition.”

  She crawled across the cabin to straddle him in the driver’s seat. “Name it,” she said, her fingers fumbling with his fly.

  “Are you always going to reward me with sex when you get your way?” he asked.

  “Probably.”

  Well, he guessed she’d be getting her way for the next seventy or eighty years then. “My condition isn’t of a sexual nature.”

  Her hand stopped its quest down his pants, and she tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “Oh. I figured you wanted a blow job or something.”

  His cock pulsed with sudden excitement. “Well, now that you mention it…” Her fingers delved deeper into his pants and brushed his cock. Pleasure rippled down his length, and unbridled lust consumed him, throbbing deep in his balls. “Wait,” he said breathlessly. “You’re going to make me forget my condition.”

  She pulled his cock free, slowly stroking his bare skin between their feverish bodies. “I’d say your condition is…” She rubbed her thumb over his cockhead and he shuddered. “…aroused.”

  It seemed that was always his condition.

  “I’ll g-go,” he said, “if…” He closed his hand over hers to stop its utterly distracting tug on his cock. He’d never be able to string a sentence together with her doing that.

  “If I suck you off?”

  Well, he probably would do whatever she wanted if she did that, but that wasn’t the bargaining chip he had in mind.

  Actually, what had he wanted his provision to be? His mind was suddenly blank as he imagined her mouth on him. “Uh…”

  “Or I can rub one out for you while I lick your ass.”

  His ass tightened involuntarily as he imagined her wicked tongue teasing him. “Reb…”

  “Or I could lick your balls instead.”

  His balls began to tingle at the very idea.

  “Or both. Name your price, Mr. Sticks.”

  “Yes, please.”

  She grinned and slid off his lap, pulling on his arm until he followed her through the curtain into the back of the vehicle. “Kneel there,” she said, indicating the center of the mattress.

  He didn’t think to argue. He liked it when she bossed him around. She crawled up behind him and jerked his pants down his thighs. Her hand splayed over his lower belly, and his abs tightened beneath her palm. She kissed his shoulder.

  “I’m gonna make you come so hard,” she said, as her hand slowly slid down his belly. She kissed a trail down his spine and then sank her teeth into his ass. His body jerked with excitement. Anticipation. Was she really going to…

  “Bend forward.”

  He did as she instructed, placing his palms on the mattress. His stomach tightened with expectation and his body produced a hard shudder when her hand circled his cock and glided gently down his length. Her palm barely skimmed the surface of his flesh as she slowly stroked him. The anticipation was killing him. Was she going to do wicked dirty things to his ass or was she all talk?

  Her hot breath bathed the underside of his balls, and he squirmed, spreading his legs as best he could with his jeans still tangled around his knees. The first hot, wet swipe of her tongue on his sac had his teeth clicking together as he drew an unsteady breath. Her mouth was as gentle with his balls as her hand was with his cock. It drove him insane. His arms began to shake, so he lowered his face to the mattress and gave himself to the pleasure rippling through him.

  Rebekah’s hand moved faster, stroking his length, her wrist turning to offer a slight twist at his head. She captured one of his aching balls in her mouth and sucked.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes closed. And to think there had been a time in his life when he’d rather watch sex than participate in it. That was no longer the case. Not since Rebekah had rocked his world.

  Her tongue slid up the crease between his balls toward his ass. He grunted, anticipating her lick there, but no, her mouth returned to his other nut and gave it a vigorous suck. His breathing quickened as his pleasure intensified. The need to find release built inside him until he couldn’t help but rock his hips, thrusting into her hand.

  She licked a trail upward and though he anticipated her backing away again, this time her tongue flicked his clenching asshole. The sensation lasted for just for an instant, but molten heat flushed through his entire body.

  “Rebekah!” he gasped brokenly.

  She nipped his ass cheek, sending a sharp thrill of pain through his overexcited flesh, before she rubbed the flat of her tongue over his tingling hole.

  Oh God, his wife licking his ass was so deliciously dirty. There was no way he could hold back his orgasm when her tongue breached him, hooked upward, and popped out again. He cried out in ecstasy as he let go. He forced his eyes open and rested the top of his head on the mattress so he could watch his cum fill her hand and drip between her fingers. Then her hand moved and all he could see was his thick fluid dripping from the tip of his dick. He didn’t realize her intention until it was too late. Two fingers, slick from his cum, pushed into his ass, penetrating him deep and massaging a spot inside him that made him wonder if he’d ever stop coming. She added to his sweet torture by licking and sucking his balls. Unable to stand his cock just hanging there in the cool air, he wrapped his fist around it and tugged vigorously.

  After she’d wrung every last bit of pleasure from his body, she slowly eased her fingers from their depths and slapped his flank. He collapsed on his belly
, aftershocks of bliss making him shudder occasionally.

  “How was that?” she asked.

  He couldn’t form words, so he hoped his groan showed her sufficient appreciation. In a basin of water she poured from a jug, she washed her hands and brushed her teeth before lying beside him. He was almost breathing steadily now, but he hadn’t fully recovered from the pleasure he’d experienced.

  “I love you,” he murmured. His arm flopped onto her back to pull her against his side. Soon he’d be able to find the strength to roll over and hold her properly, but for now, this attempt would have to do.

  “I know. I love you too. I’m ready to hear your condition for going to Bangor now.”

  He lifted his head, trying to see her face in the limited twilight that filtered through the gauzy curtains. “I thought that rim job was my condition.”

  She grinned deviously. “That was just for fun.”

  He chuckled and rolled onto his side so he could pull her against him belly to belly. “I love you now even more than I did three seconds ago.”

  She laid a hand on his cheek and kissed him deeply. When they pulled apart, he was already interested in reciprocating her thoughtful gift of orgasm.

  “Your condition?” she asked.

  He’d forgotten again. “I’d say my condition is… aroused.”

  She laughed. “Already?”

  “But my condition for going to Bangor…” Quick, before my thoughts get too clouded with lust again. “You lose the schedule.”

  She nodded agreeably.

  “And—”

  “You said one condition,” she cut him off.

  “Aaaannd…” He wasn’t going to let her waylay his real condition, the one that mattered to him. “When we get to Bangor, you’ll let me decide if I want to meet them. And if I decide I don’t want to, you promise not to push me.”

  She scrunched her face up. “But then I’m sure you won’t go through with it.”

  “And that needs to be okay with you.”

  She stared at him until it was so dark outside, he could no longer make out her features. “Will you at least promise to carefully consider your decision?” she asked. “And not just blow it off?”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay.” She snuggled her face into his chest. “I feel so much better now. I didn’t realize how much trying to trick you was bothering me.”

  “You don’t have to hide anything from me. I’m not just saying that.”

  Her breathy sigh permeated his T-shirt and warmed the skin over his thudding heart. “I love you now even more than I did three seconds ago,” she whispered.

  Was it possible to melt? As all of his muscles relaxed at once, he was pretty sure it had just happened to him.

  “Do you think we can make it to Santa Fe before nine?” she asked.

  He huffed out a short laugh. Predictable. “You’re supposed to lose that schedule, remember?”

  “Yeah, but we have dinner reservations at the best Mexican restaurant in the city.”

  He kissed her forehead and released her. “If it will make you happy, we can try.”

  “It will make me happy.”

  Then there was nothing further to debate. Eric just hoped the minibus felt as cooperative as he did.

  Chapter Eight

  Rebekah enjoyed Santa Fe. The website she’d consulted while planning the trip had been right about the restaurant—delicious and romantic—as well as the hotel—gorgeous Southwestern style, cozy, and wonderful customer service. When using the traveler review site, she’d gone with the number-one visitor choices under every category, and so far she hadn’t been disappointed. She was glad she hadn’t used the same method for choosing their Vegas hotel. She couldn’t imagine a pricier hotel would have been any more fun.

  “Time to get up,” she whispered in Eric’s ear. “We’re going to a museum.”

  He grumbled something incoherent and smashed his pillow over his face.

  “It’s a museum of art.”

  He yanked the covers over his head, burying himself and the pillow still smashed to his face.

  “Fine. I’ll go look at all those flowery vaginas by myself.” She scooted off the bed and reached for her shoes.

  Eric tossed back the covers and sent the pillow tumbling from the bed. “Did you say vaginas?”

  She lifted her eyebrows and nodded. “Vaginas everywhere.”

  “I’m in.” He rolled out of bed and stretched his arms over his head. Rebekah forgot she was putting on her shoes as she sat on the carpet and stared at his long, lean body. The man was all well-defined muscle and sinew. Perhaps she’d been a bit hasty in getting dressed this morning.

  But he was on board for the museum, so they headed out without any play time.

  As they wandered the Georgia O’Keeffe art gallery, Eric began to fidget. “When do we get to the vaginas?”

  “These are all vaginas,” Rebekah said. She looked down and spoke to her crotch area. “My husband didn’t recognize you.”

  He lifted one brow. “These are all flowers.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He moved closer to the painting of an orchid and examined it, tilting his head slightly. “It does look like pussy.”

  The woman beside him, who was studying the same painting, sniggered and then burst out laughing.

  “Told you,” Rebekah said. “They’re beautiful.”

  “I agree—pussy is spectacular. But if I get a boner every time I see a flower in the future, it’s your fault.”

  “Georgia O’Keeffe’s fault,” she corrected. “I’m going to buy some prints in the gift shop and hang them all over our bedroom.”

  “I’ll never be able to leave the room,” he complained.

  “That’s the idea.”

  They were on the road by noon, and while in the back of her mind Rebekah was hoping they’d make it to Oklahoma City by nightfall, she didn’t mention it to Eric. He got sidetracked storm chasing. Even though it was a cloudless day in December, he was sure that if he drove down enough dirt roads, he’d eventually spot a tornado. After taking several turns onto unpaved roads, their navigation proved worthless. Spectacularly lost somewhere in Oklahoma, Rebekah couldn’t believe there were still places in the United States that didn’t have cellular service. So they drove around the countryside, eventually stopping at sunset to watch the bright orange sun paint the sky pink before sinking below the horizon. Caught up in the splendor of nature, they warmed their chilly lips with deep, tender kisses before climbing into the back of the minibus for some calisthenics.

  By the time they found an interstate that led them to Oklahoma City, it was too late to take in a comedy show in Bricktown and the restaurant she’d chosen was already closed, so they ordered room service and watched a campy zombie movie in their hotel suite before succumbing to exhaustion. It was the first night of their married lives where they fell asleep before making love. Eric seemed to realize this at around four in the morning, when he woke her with a stiffy poking her in the ass.

  “I’m too tired,” she mumbled. “Let me sleep.”

  Eric decided to take care of his condition on his own. The rhythmic slapping of him beating off was impossible to ignore. Rebekah switched on the lamp to watch him. His hand jerked up and down his length. God, his cock was beautiful. Staring at his hand circling the shaft, fingers bumping over the rim of his head and thumb brushing the opening at the tip, had her too aroused to sleep.

  She slipped her fingers between her legs and shuddered as pleasure pulsed through her.

  “Are you wet?” he asked.

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Mind if I taste you while I jack off?”

  She laughed softly. “I don’t think I’ll mind that at all.”

  She knelt over his face backward so she could watch him stroke his cock while his tongue danced over her clit and dipped into her soaking wet pussy. She wasn’t sure if watching him come—his fluids erupting from his tip to splatter over his lower belly�
��or the chaotic flicks of his tongue against her clit sent her over the edge, but she screamed when her orgasm caught her by surprise. She lifted her hips, pulling away from his face so she could slam two fingers into her clenching pussy as she came.