Page 35 of Forever After Fall

“Okay, Dad. I’m fine.” I give Anson a pointed look that tells him to back off.

He does this sometimes. Launches into weirdly overprotective dad mode, worrying about safety. He’ll suddenly decide we need to act like I’m in need of a high-level security detail, carrying a sidearm and asking what kind of surveillance I have installed. If Bo didn’t ruin the mood by walking in, this sudden need to treat me like I’m incapable of handling myself and my business does.

“I can handle things around here. You spend too much time around Grant if you’re going to talk to me like that.” Grant treats Dakota like she’s Ft. Knox. She’s grown to love him for it. Anson and I have a way to go before he gets that kind of say in my life.

He takes a beat and a breath before he responds. Clearly reassessing his snap reaction.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re capable. I just worry about you.”

“You’re forgiven. I must’ve just forgotten to close it all the way or something. I was a little distracted.” I run my fingers down his forearm to let him know I appreciate the apology. I’d love to go back to five minutes ago when this man was looking at me like I was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen in his life. I could take that version of him any day. “Too much fun. At least before the interruption.”

The furrow in his brow melts away, and I can tell by the look in his eyes he’s remembering what we were doing before Bo decided to barge in.

“Speaking of…” His hand goes to my waist as he speaks, and he backs me up against the wall, pressing a kiss to my throat, and then another. “Why are your panties still on?”

“Because I’d prefer your brother not see me with them off?” I whisper back, giggling as he lets out a rumbling laugh that vibrates against my chest.

“Fair enough. I like him too much to kill him.”

“Me too.”

“But I want to hear you come for me.”

“You think that’s wise given the circumstances?”

“I think Bo’s taking a walk, and no one else would have the balls to barge in like that. We’ve got what? Eight minutes? I bet I can make that work.” His eyes dance with mischief in a way I rarely see on him. I want this version of him for as long as it lasts. Especially when I’m responsible for it.

“Okay, but you’ll have to do it with the panties on. If we’re interrupted again, I want plausible deniability.”

“Have you looked in the mirror? I don’t think anyone who sees you is gonna be confused about your being a quirky storm chaser.”

“They’re going to think you have quite the kink for old cinema starlets.”

“I can live with that.” Anson’s lips are at my throat again, and his hand slips under the skirt of my dress. “As long as I get to hear you come right now, I can live with anything.”

Two of his fingers slip between my thighs, gently stroking their way over the fabric of my panties as I bite my lower lip. I’m fighting back a moan already. Being on my knees for this man in public makes me wet. Getting caught was the kind of rush I wasn’t expecting, and I’m halfway to coming just from thinking about someone catching Anson with his hands down my panties. I spread wider, and the next pass of his fingers teases over my clit through the damp fabric. I roll my hips in search of more friction, and it earns me a low chuckle from him.

“Look at my girl. So fucking eager to be touched.” Anson’s possessive tone takes over again, but this time I like it. I want it. I think it’s half the reason the idea of being caught turns me on.

“Oh my god.” I gasp, the realization hitting me at the same time his fingers slip under my panties and over my clit.

“Anson, darlin’. Not God.” He nips at my throat, and I’m fucking lost in it. In him. The way every touch of his lights up my body. I wanted flutters and this man gives me full body shivers.

“Anson, please,” I whimper when he teases me with tighter circles over my clit.

“That’s better.” He groans when he slips them inside, using his thumb to keep up the pressure on my clit.

“Oh, damn…” I murmur. He’s got the perfect rhythm. I suspect it’s because he was paying such close attention the other day in the truck. He treats me and my pleasure the same way he does everything else. Careful attention to detail. Taking notes. Iterating on the success. Discarding what doesn’t work. I get why he’s popular with women.

I hate the thought as soon as it hits me. A flash of jealousy burns through me, and I’m annoyed with myself for feeling it. This is temporary. I have to remember that. Get used to it. Anson’s not mine to keep. I just get the fun side of him for a little while longer, and I need to enjoy it while it lasts.

“Fuck. You’re so damn pretty like this. I’m gonna need you to pack this dress up when we’re done so I can take it home and burn it. I’m not risking another man seeing you look like this.”

“No?” I ask and release another whimper when he changes his tempo just when I need it, and I angle my hips to let him have better access. He drops to his knees in front of me and drags my panties down to mid-thigh, looking up at me and holding my eyes.

“No. This is mine,” he says and moves his thumb to the side, his tongue dragging over my clit. “Say it,” he demands.

“It’s yours. Fuck. It’s yours, Anson,” I cry out the words, and they fade on a moan as my hips rock against his face. My fingers sink into his hair as I try to hold on through wave after wave of one of the best orgasms of my life. Who needs toys when you’ve got Anson? This man could put me out of business. Figuratively. Literally.