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She straightens fast and turns. Surprise flashes across her face, then something warmer when she sees it's me. "Hey. I thought you were still out with the decorating crew."
"I was but left. Needed to find you."
Worry appears on her expression. "Is Charlie okay?"
"Yeah. She's fine," I assure her, my dick hardening, and the ache heating my veins.
"Okay. Good." Her eyes search mine.
"Come with me." I don't give her time to ask questions. I take her hand, thread my fingers through hers, and tug her toward the smaller room off to the side. It's the old tack room we cleared out years ago and filled with loose hay.
I push the door wider with my shoulder and pull her inside. Then shut it behind us.
"What's up?" she asks.
The dry-sweet smell of the hay piled high against the walls is overwhelming. One narrow window high up lets in a pale rectangle of light.
"You'll see," I state, feeling off-balance.
I need her.
I've needed her way too long.
She looks at me in question.
I twist the lock and turn her against the door. My mouth finds hers first, hungrier than last night.
She makes a soft sound against my lips and kisses me back just as hard. Her free hand fists the front of my shirt. She tastes like the afternoon—sun and dust and the faint salt of sweat—and it only makes the need in me burn hotter.
I break the kiss and drag my mouth down the side of her neck, teeth grazing, tongue tasting her warm skin. I mutter against her throat. "Been thinking about this all day. About getting my mouth on you."
Her breath hitches. "Jagger—"
I don't let her finish, kissing her mouth again. My hands work the buttons of her shirt, popping them free one after another until the fabric hangs open. I push it off her shoulders and down her arms, letting it drop into the hay at our feet. Her simple white bra follows a moment later. Her breasts spill into my hands, warm and full, nipples already tightening under my thumbs. I bend and take one into my mouth, sucking hard enough to make her arch and gasp. A bit of warm milk comes out, and I groan.
"Oh crap," she frets.
I suck more out of the other, while my fingers work the button and zipper of her jeans.
Her arms clutch me tight. She whimpers, "Oh my God."
"I've missed you," I grunt, shoving the denim down her hips, taking her underwear with it partway before I change my mind. I slip the thin material past my fingers and leave on the plain cotton, already damp where they cling between her legs. In a trance, I get the jeans the rest of the way off, along with her boots and socks. When she has nothing on but that thin scrap of fabric, and is flushed and breathing hard, eyes dark, I sink to my knees in the hay.
I look up at her once, just long enough to get a glimpse of the way her lips part. Her hands hover like she doesn't know whether to push me away or pull me closer. Then I lean in and press my mouth to the soft skin just above the waistband of her panties. I kiss lower, dragging my tongue along the edge of the cotton, breathing her in.
Her scent's already thick. It's warm, musky, unmistakably aroused, and it punches straight through me. I groan louder against her, low and rough, my heart racing faster. "Fuck, Lainey."
"Jagger," she barely gets out, her legs shaking.
I hook my fingers in the sides of the panties and tug them down just enough to bare her to me, but leave them stretched around her thighs. I stare at her slick and swollen clit. Her neat thatch of hair is already dark with wetness, making my cock throb harder against the zipper of my jeans.
But I don't touch myself. I just lean in and drag the flat of my tongue through her folds in one long, slow lick from entrance to clit.
Her whole body jerks. A broken sound tears out of her. Her hands fly to my hair, fingers tightening.
"Yes, baby girl," I praise, then do it again, slower this time, savoring the taste of salt and sweet and pure need. I lick deeper, spreading her open with my thumbs so I can get at every inch.
Her knees buckle, and she bends over me, her hands flying to my back.
