19. Nineteen

I popped another silver dollar pancake in my mouth and stared at Church's bare ass. He'd surprised me. I never thought he'd actually cook my breakfast in nothing but an apron. It'd be better if it was a cute little pink apron with lace, but I couldn't complain. I was, after all, getting breakfast and a show.

I should write a song about his ass , I thought, but the label would never let us sing it. Maybe if I was really clever with the lyrics, I could write a song about the rest of him, though. His dick was pretty amazing, too.

"I can feel you staring at my ass, Dante," Church said, and flipped a pancake.

"Of course I am. That's the whole point of this exercise." I sighed and stabbed another pancake before adding, "Really makes me want dessert."

He frowned back at me. "Pancakes are dessert, Dante."

"I was thinking about something a little saltier."

His cheeks flushed the perfect shade of pink. "We don't have time for messing around this morning. Nina will be here at eleven. "

I chuckled. "Baby, it's not going to take me an hour to suck you off. I mean, it could, and that'd be fun, but I'm not very good at the whole delayed gratification thing."

"Thank God one of us has some self-control, then," he said, turning back to his pancakes.

I hummed and slid my chair back to stand. "That's something we're going to have to fix," I said, and walked my fingers over the exposed skin of his hips.

Goose bumps broke out on the back of his neck. I stood up on my tiptoes to press a kiss there, slowly working my way down. I slid my hands under the apron to comb my fingers through the trail of coarse hair starting just below his navel. When my fingers brushed over the rapidly swelling base of his cock, I smiled against his bare shoulders.

I closed my hand around his cock, giving it a few slow, teasing tugs as it hardened. "Turn off the stove, kitten, and let me make you feel good."

"The pancakes aren't done." The words came out small and breathy.

"Neither am I."

Church reached out and shut off the stove burner, and I knew I had him. With a small tug, I pulled him away from the stove. He went without protest to where I walked him, and eventually let me pin his back to the fridge.

Church licked his lips, breathing heavily. "What are you going to do to me?" His eyes widened as I closed my lips around one of his fingers, and he let out a small whimper as I teased his fingertip with my tongue.

"How's that sound?"

He nodded quickly .

I smirked and dropped to my knees. "Be a good boy and hold still for me," I said, and ducked under the apron.

Church's cock was already at full attention, the tip just sticking out from beneath all that gorgeous foreskin. That was always the best part about dating European guys. An uncut dick was hot as sin, and twice as sensitive. I gripped his shaft at the base to hold him still. The small, strangled sound he made when I closed my lips around the tip had me palming my own erection in my sweats. I moaned around him and let my tongue slowly circle the sensitive head, right under the foreskin.

The muscles of his thighs tightened and trembled slightly. "Oh my God."

Exactly the reaction I'd been hoping for. He was too perfect. The only problem was I couldn't see his face thanks to the apron, but I didn't mind that much. The apron added a slightly kinky layer to the blowjob, almost like I was doing it blindfolded. That wasn't normally my thing, but with Church…There was very little I wasn't willing to introduce him to.

I took my time, teasing the head of his cock until it was bright red and leaking onto my tongue. Only then did I swallow him further, and there was a lot of him. It took some strategic maneuvering on my part to take him to the back of my throat and swallow around him a few times before coming up for air. When I did, Church tore the apron away. He looked down at me with a mix of raw lust and wonder in his eyes. Maybe he'd never gotten a decent blowjob before. A pity. Everyone deserved good sex. I still couldn't believe he'd gone almost two decades without any. Luckily, I was pretty sure he'd be willing to make up for lost time.

I held his gaze as I went back to licking, teasing, and occasionally sucking all of him down, shamelessly being as loud and messy about it as possible. Spit and pre-cum dripped down his shaft and balls. I swiped some of it away with a thumb before closing my hand around his full balls and massaging gently. They were already drawn up tight, and I could feel his cock throbbing against my tongue. He had to be close.

Come on, kitten. Give it up.

"Dante…" His hips moved ever so slightly away from the fridge, chasing the retreat of my mouth. I put a hand on him to still him and sped my pace. "Dante…Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck!"

His muscles trembled, and he cried out, spilling onto my tongue. I kept sucking him, swallowing down every drop, until he pushed me back by the shoulders. Breathing hard, Church stared down at me with a wild, half-feral look. I stood and claimed his lips in a rough kiss, sliding my tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of himself and pulled me tighter against him. Frantic hands slid down the front of my sweats. One of Church's massive fists closed around my cock.

"Fuuuuck." I panted and shoved my sweats down so I could watch his hand slide up and down my cock. "Yeah, you want that? Bet you want it inside you, huh? I can't wait. You're going to feel so good, kitten. Fuck, play with my balls a little. That's a good boy. Now, kiss me."

"You're so bossy," he mumbled, but did it anyway.

Our tongues tangled and he let me fuck into his fist, moaning like a whore. I was a whore. I'd been with so many men and women over the last few years that I didn't even count anymore, but none of them could compare to the special spark I felt when I was with Church. I didn't know what it was yet that made things different with him, but it didn't feel like a chore. This couldn't be a one and done situation. The more I was around him, the more I wanted him. Even this wouldn't be enough. I knew that going in. Something in me craved something in him.

Maybe that was my addiction talking. I could be replacing one addiction with another, but I didn't care. I needed this, needed him, needed to feel whatever it was he was making me feel. I was ravenous for it. And not just the physical pleasure he was giving me. Every shy smile, every blush, every small act of service felt like a gift, one I wanted to hoard.

Church cupped my face with his free hand and tilted it up for another kiss. The taste of him, so salty and sweet, was finally what sent me over the edge. My hips jerked and I groaned, coming hard enough that it left me lightheaded and weak. I'd have collapsed if he wasn't there to hold me up.

I let my head fall forward into his chest with a grunt, fighting to catch my breath. "God, I needed that so bad. Are you okay?"

"You're asking me when you're the one who can barely stand up?"

I smiled and rubbed my nose deeper into his chest hair. "You smell good."

"I smell like sex and pancakes."

"My new favorite smell." I didn't see him roll his eyes, but I heard the sigh that often accompanied him doing that and chuckled. "Okay. Now that my brain works a little better…" I pulled my sweats up and peeled my shirt off, doing my best to clean us both off.

"I hope you're happy. The last four pancakes are ruined," he grumbled, peering into the pan.

"Eh, I had all the batter I wanted, anyway." I winked and gave his bare butt a swat. "Now you'd better go get some pants on before Nina gets here."

Church's phone rang. He frowned at it, so I snatched it off the counter and answered it for him.

"Church's undercover confessional and casino. You sin, we win. How can I direct your call? "

"Give me that." Church snatched the phone out of my hand and hit the speaker button. "You're on speaker, Bowie."

"Was that your boyfriend? Glad to hear he's feeling better," came Bowie's voice through the phone.

"Much better now than ten minutes ago," I added with a smirk.

Church glared at me and mouthed for me to shut up. "Did you find out anything new about Oscar?"

"We did. The social security number he gave to Merry Maids was a fake. Belongs to a pensioner in Jersey. I ran his name through all the usual databases and got nothing, so I called in a favor to a PI friend and passed his picture along. Turns out Oscar's real name is Eric Osmond. Last known address is in Stockton, California, but that was a while ago. He travels a lot, too. Ran up his credit cards with hotel bills in Baltimore, Atlanta, Saint Louis, Detroit…"

I frowned. "In that order?"

There was the sound of paper rustling and a brief hesitation before Bowie said, "Yeah. That important?"

I met Church's worried gaze. "The last tour After Atom did, we hit those cities in that order. Next was…"

"Denver and Seattle," Bowie finished.

I suddenly felt dizzy again and had to sit down. Every city I'd been in over the last year, he'd been there too. That couldn't be coincidence. How long had he been stalking me?

Church squeezed my shoulder and mouthed, "Are you okay?"

I nodded slowly.

"There's talk of moving Dante into the bunker," Bowie said.

I caught Church's eye and shook my head. It was one thing to be trapped in the middle of nowhere for thirty days. At least Church and I were mostly alone out there and had room to mess around. If they shoved me into some underground safe house, there would be around the clock surveillance. I wouldn't be able to sneeze without someone showing up to wipe my nose. We'd never get a moment alone together again.

"Is Boone there with you?" Church asked.

"No, and we talked him down. You have Wattson to thank for that. He argued that moving Dante might have an adverse effect on his sobriety. The added stress and all that. So you're good for now, but if anything else happens…"

"Dante is safe with me," Church assured Bowie.

"I don't doubt it, brother," Bowie said with a small sigh. "And believe it or not, neither does Boone. We know you can do the job you were hired to do. Nobody's doubting you. It's just that this might not be a one-man job anymore. If Oscar shows up again, we'll have to rethink our strategy. We'll keep digging on our end and hopefully we'll track him down and it won't be an issue. You just worry about Dante."

They finished up their conversation and Church hung up, but I could tell Bowie's suggestion that I go hide in their bunker bothered him. I imagined he felt like they were disappointed in him, which must've been rough. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel bad.

I wrapped an arm around his. "Why don't we spend the day together?"

He frowned. "We already spend every day together."

"No, I meant why don't we do something?"

Church glanced around the kitchen. "I suppose we could watch another movie…"

"Is that what you really want to do?" I squeezed his arm. "Come on, Church. I'm not some fragile princess made of glass. I know you're the outdoorsy type. Pick something you've been wanting to do out here since you arrived, anything. I'll even roll in the mud with you if that's what you want."

He chuckled. "Well, there is a really nice, stocked lake about a quarter mile into the woods, but if you're not into fishing…"

"I don't know if I am, but I'd love to try." I gave his butt a light swat. "Get dressed, baby, and take me fishing!"