I loved doing this for him that summer. I loved that he taught me what he liked and that he was patient while I adjusted to him… in more ways than one.
“Oh, fuck, that feels good,” he husks, hand winding tight in my hair, but not pushing, when I take him all the way back, both hands twisting and pumping around his thick base. “Ah, yeah, just like that.”
His head falls back as his hips begin to pulse, and I keep at him until I feel him strain, knowing it’ll drive him insane when I turn my attention lower.
“Ohhh my Goddd.” His shaky, fevered, frustrated words are anything but quiet when I suck one and then the other of his balls into my mouth, going back and forth until his knees bounce like jackhammers and he grows even harder in my hand. I know what’s to come and I smile when his head snaps up and his wild eyes meet mine. “Suck it, Hayden. Quit playing fucking games and put that pretty mouth back on my cock.”
And I do. Drenching the tip with saliva and working my way down until I can’t take any more of him. Twisting, pumping, sucking, while his hips rise and fall and fuck my mouth… and he comes, hot and thick on my tongue.
His low, guttural groan and feral gaze morphs lazily into sweet, languid tenderness as he feathers the backs of his fingers against my cheek and drags his thumb across my wet lips.
My tongue chases after his touch and a slow smile tips one corner of his mouth.
“You really just blew me on the deck for everyone to see?”
“Isn’t the first time.” And it probably won’t be the last. He laughs hoarsely while I tuck him back into his shorts, then he pulls me back to his lap for a kiss.
“You’re fucking amazing,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’m gonna pay you back for that, too. In fact, maybe I should do it right now.”
The mere thought has me squirming against him greedily, but then a phone rings and I freeze. So does he.
“Fuck.” He groans. “I’m not answering it.”
I don’t want him to, either, but… “At least check the caller ID in case it’s important.”
He falls back against the sofa while he pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and fishes his phone from his pocket with the other.
“Shit, it’s Greta.” Concerned eyes flick to mine.
“Answer it.”
He swallows and sticks the phone to his ear. “Hey, G, everything all right?” His face falls instantly. “What? Where are you?” He nudges me from his lap and paces to the railing with a white-knuckled hand clamped around the back of his neck. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes, Gret. Okay? I’ll be there.”
He clicks off the call and spins to face me. “Her husband. Bob. He just… he had a massive heart attack. He didn’t make it.”
Chapter 24
JESSE
The next couple of days go by in a blur.
Greta’s daughter in Colorado couldn’t get a flight to Wisconsin until Monday night and, despite Ma meeting me at the hospital and never leaving Greta’s side, I couldn’t bring myself to leave her, either, knowing there was a reason she called me first.
She’s worked for our family since Dad took over the company thirty-some years ago, so in a way, we’re like her kids, too. She and I have only gotten closer since I took over the helm, and I couldn’t run Enders Excavating without her.
Except, now I have to.
“One thing at a time,” Ma says quietly, rubbing a hand up and down my back as we sit in Greta’s living room Tuesday night, going through pictures with G and her daughter. “Let’s just get through this and then we’ll worry about that.”
This being the funeral on Thursday and that being what the hell I’m going to do when she goes back to Colorado with Lacey, which she told me earlier today was her plan.
“Why don’t you head home and get some rest?” Mom adds. “Or, better yet, go and hold Jett for a little while.”
“He’s already in bed.”
“Then hold Hayden.”
My eyes dart to my mother’s as she squeezes my knee.
“You skipped Sunday lunch. It wasn’t hard to figure out why.”
Damn. I was kind of hoping to talk to my family before they got curious. Then again, Hayden and I were everywhere together on Sunday and I’m sure enough people saw to make assumptions.
“Go. And sleep, baby. Please.” Ma leans in and kisses my cheek, before I do the same to Greta, promising I’m just a phone call away if she needs anything. She squeezes me extra hard, assures me she’s fine, and then I go... straight to the Foss cabin.
“Hey, frat boy.” Hayden’s welcoming arms feel like fucking heaven as we rock from side to side in the kitchen, just holding each other. “I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you tonight.”
“Sorry I’ve been quiet,” I say into her hair. “The funeral is Thursday and Greta’s going out west with her daughter when all is said and done.”
“I wondered if something like that might happen.”
I pull in a deep breath and exhale just as heavily. “I can’t stay. I’m fucking exhausted and I have a bunch of work shit to deal with.”
“Not tonight, you don’t.” She tangles her fingers with mine and tips her head toward the hall, loose strands of that pretty blonde hair falling around her face. “Come on.”
“Babe, I’m beat.”
“That’s why we’re going to bed.”
Her bed?
Our eyes meet and there’s a tenderness in those deep, dark pools that wipes all of the other shit away in a second.
Spend the night alone, worrying about shit I can’t do anything about right now, or spend the night wrapped up in her?
There’s no question.
Without another word, I kick off my shoes and follow her to the bedroom at the end of the hall. She closes the door partially behind us, leaving it cracked enough to hear Jett if he needs anything. And then she comes to me.
“Arms up,” she says, her fingers gliding along the hem of my T-shirt. In the dimly lit room, with the moon outside as our only light, she’s my ethereal angel again lit up in a lavender glow.
“I can undress myself,” I murmur, even though my limbs feel like they’re a million pounds. Even standing upright is an effort at this point.
“I know you can, but I want to do it for you,” she whispers, and I remember why I waited. For her. For this. For us.
I lift my arms and she lifts the shirt, tossing it onto a chair in the corner. She works my fly down next, her hands sliding around beneath the waistband of my jeans to my ass and guiding them down over my boxer briefs. I’m beat, but not so beat that I can’t flex the cake just for her.
A low, sexy laugh fills the room. “Very nice, frat boy. Between you and me, your ass was the only good part of watching you go on Friday nights.”
“You were checking me out, huh?”
“Nothing wrong with looking.” She smirks and tosses my jeans to the chair, as well, before crooking her finger at me from the side of the bed. “Come and sit.”
I obey, because I’m too gone for this girl not to do every single thing she asks me to do.