Page 249 of Cross Check

I take my time, happy to worship at my favorite altar. I kiss her calf, her knee, and the crook of her thigh. I kiss across her stomach to the other side of her body, and when she starts to squirm, I finally put my mouth on her so I can taste.

Wet.

She’s so wet already, and I savor the low groan that crawls up her throat. Her ankles hook around my head, a lock keeping me in place, but it’s all for show. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here, and when I lick her center then swirl my tongue over her clit, I’m afraid I’m going to finish before I even get started.

I tease a finger through her slit. I don’t push in—not yet—and her groan turns into a frustrated cry. I’m a weak man who will never deny this woman anything she wants, but I want to make her work for it this morning. I want to see how bad she wants it, and when Amelia’s head drops against the cabinet, I can’t help but smile.

“Happy birthday to you,” I sing, a single finger pressing inside her. She’s tight even though I fucked her last night, and her legs open wider to make room for me. “Happy birthday to you.” My tongue is back on her clit and making lazy circles. She lifts her hips, grinding on my finger. “Happy birthday dear Lia,” I murmur, pulling my finger out and giving her pussy a light slap that makes her entire body jolt. I do it again for good measure and because she’s pretty when she swears at me. “Happy birthday to you.”

I finish the song by adding two fingers, working in and out of her in the slow way I’d fuck her if we were on a bed. I pull out of her again and smear her arousal across her stomach. My hand moves down, painting her thighs before licking the mess away. She answers by placing the hand covered in batter on the back of my head, urgency in the way she pushes my face right into her pussy.

I take it as a sign she wants more, so I add finger number three. I curl and I twist and I work to give her the pleasure she deserves, but I’m worried she’s going to fall off the counter.

I make a split-second decision.

Ripping her underwear at the seams and tossing it aside, I stand. I lift Lia and take her with me, hauling her to kitchen table where I can spread her out and really enjoy. With my arms looped under her thighs and her ass sliding over the wood, I hold her down with my forearm. I dive back between her legs, my mouth sucking on her clit while she tries to fidget against my face.

“I said not to move, baby.” I bite her thigh in the secret spot no one knows I touch. “Can you do what I ask?”

“Yes.” Lia grips the edge of the table, her chest bouncing as I use four fingers to get her off. The table shifts an inch to the left, squeaking over the floor. “I promise I will if you let me come.”

“My girl wants to negotiate? Fine. It’s a special day. We can make that happen.”

I keep the same pace with my fingers and my mouth while her soft moans fuel me. Each one cracks and splits, a demand in the whispered way she mutters my name like she’s mad at me. She stays perfectly still until I give her pussy another slap, and that’s when she turns frantic.

“Grant. I’m not sure I can take much more,” she says. When I sneak a glance at her, I find batter in the shape of a handprint right over her chest. Sweaty, flushed skin and her clean hand pinching her nipple. “Please.”

“Touch your clit while I fuck you with my fingers,” I say, wanting her to be part of this too. “I like watching you get yourself off.”

I swear she whispers finally before her knuckles nudge my cheek. I indulge in one more long swipe of my tongue then pull back so I can follow the bend of her wrist as she moves. Lia’s breathing changes. Deep breaths turn into short, staccato gasps. Her finger slips and slides while I keep her pussy full with mine, her wetness enough to drop my forehead against her leg and groan from how hard it’s making me.

And then she comes undone, her hips and ass lifting off the table as she chases the pleasure head-on. I put a hand on her stomach and push down, glad when she says my name again. It’s full of appreciation this time, and I’m slow to pull my fingers out as her orgasm subsides. The moment that I do, they’re in my mouth. I’m sucking them clean, smiling as her lips form an o while she watches me with wide, satisfied eyes.

“We’re not done,” I say, and she blinks to clear the fog settling over her. “I want you to get me off with your mouth.”

“Yeah?”

Amelia stretches out on the table. She turns her head to the side, watching me while her hair scatters everywhere. A piece falls in her face, and I tuck it behind her ear.

I stand and check to make sure she’s not hitting her head. When I do, Amelia reaches for me. She pulls me toward her by my shoulders. Her smooth palm runs across the planes of my back, and I sigh at the contact.

“Yeah,” I rasp. “Right here on the kitchen floor.”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” she asks around a laugh, the amusement dying out when I draw up her long legs with the back of my hand. “You’re very demanding.”

“You don’t have to. That was enough for me. Always is when it comes to you. A couple seconds, and I’ll be finished.”

“I like that you like getting me off.” Amelia holds out her hand. I thread our fingers together, and she leads me to the other side of the table where her head is. “I like how much I turn you on.” Her fingers skim over the bulge in my sweatpants, and my hips thrust involuntarily. “I like that you’re just as much a part of my orgasm as I am.”

“Love watching you.” My voice is hoarse when she tugs on my pants. “Love taking care of you.”

I love you, my lust-addled brain almost adds, but Lia’s giving my sweatpants another tug and inching the clothing down my hips and thighs. She’s spitting in the center of her hand while warm fingers wrap around my length, starting to stroke. Her thumb swipes over the head and she sits up, her legs dangling over the edge of the table.

“You take care of me so well, Grant.” Her smile hooks up in the corner of her mouth. It’s a shot straight to my chest. “It’s my birthday, and I want to take care of you.”

SEVENTY-EIGHT

GRANT