Page 61 of The Burbs and the Bees
I inch up, wanting more, all of him, and he repositions, leans to the side, and grips his cock. He holds it and runs it over my clit before sliding in an inch. My eyes roll back in my head, and I take a fast breath. My throat dries, and I swallow as he pushes into me. One hard thrust until he’s seated high inside me, filling me in a way I’ve never been filled before. That’s a whole lot of nice.
“Jay,” I yelp and lift up a bit. He slides his hand around my head, holds my hair, and brings my mouth to his. His tongue glides in as his cock fills with heated blood, swelling even more inside me. He inches back and drives into me again as I clutch at him, run my fingers over his hard, rippling muscles. My sex muscles quake, and my nipples press against his chest as he takes me to the precipice and leaves me hanging there.
“Touch yourself,” he whispers. “Show me how you did it while you were thinking of me.”
“First the shoes and now this,” I murmur. “Who knew the hot farmer next door was a kinky kind of guy?”
He grins. “You think I’m hot.”
I laugh. Honest to God, I’ve never laughed during sex before, but with him it’s…fun.
“And that was your takeaway?”
I slide my hand between our bodies, and he repositions in a move that’s not hurried or scripted. With an ease about him, no choreographed moves, nothing he’s rehearsed for years, he runs his hands over my body, a soft exploration, an easy introduction, as he goes back on his knees, lifting me up to keep himself buried inside my sex.
“Ooh,” I say, my head dizzy like I’m drugged as he introduces me to a new position. “I like this.”
“Here you thought I had no moves,” he teases. I run my hand over my stomach, and the second I touch myself, pulse against my fingers, his growl curls around me. “Just so you know, you weren’t the only one struggling all week.”
“No?”
He snorts out a laugh. “I’ve never abused myself so much in all my life.”
I laugh at that, but it turns into a moan as he fills me completely. Deep and hard, he pushes into me, and I lift with him to meet each thrust. His hips power forward, and I surge upward, our bodies meeting, becoming one.
He works his hips, filling me, stretching me, unleashing a side of himself I hadn’t yet seen but like immensely. I let go with him, and honestly, I barely know him, but there’s something about his confidence, his certainty, the way he’s just being with me that gives me a sense of safety, like I could surrender to him and not get hurt.
My thoughts shift when a hot jolt of pleasure pulls at me—a second time. I’ve never orgasmed twice in a row before, but holy hell, I’m right there again. I buck against him, searching, seeking, wanting more. Bodies entwined, we both push and pull—greedy and generous—as we give and take.
“You’re so tight and wet,” he says and rocks into me harder and faster. His eyes meet mine, and the raw desire I spot as we meld into one excites me, pushes me over the edge until I shatter and climax all around his beautiful cock.
“Jesus.” A deep shudder rockets through him, and he grunts. “Alyson,” he murmurs and buries his face in my neck.
“I feel you,” I say as he pulses inside me.
I hold his body, absorb his tremors as he releases. My sex hugs him tight, keeping him high inside until he collapses on top of me. His heart pounds against mine, and as my brain slowly stops spinning, one thought hits.
I just slept with my neighbor.
I was supposed to keep my distance, try to find myself on this farm, find something to stick to; instead, I stuck to the honey farmer next door who gave new meaning to the words “rocked my world.” None of this is conducive to my plan. In fact, it distracts from it, and I shouldn’t want to do it again—tomorrow, or better yet, five minutes from now. I laugh to myself, almost hysterically. Yeah, madness is already taking hold of me.
“You okay?” he says, lifting his head to see me. He slides his hands around my head again, his gaze scanning my face as he holds me.
“I was wrong,” I say.
His brow furrows in confusion. He opens his mouth and closes it again, like he’s choosing his next words carefully. Last time I said I was wrong, he practically had my farm signed over to Bryce Kent—which I’ll probably end up doing after thirty days, if the price is right.
“About?” he finally asks.
I turn into him, my body warming again. “You’ve got all the moves.”
And that raises all kinds of problems for me.
Chapter Twelve
Jay
The early morning sun peeks in through the crack in Alyson’s curtains, and I roll over. I hadn’t meant to spend the night, hadn’t meant to wake up between her sheets. But after round one last night, followed by a shared bowl of cereal in her bed, I found myself inside her again. Christ, I’d been hoping that one night of hot sex, of owning her sweet body, would be enough to snuff the spark between us, but all it did was make me want her more.
