26. Dusty

I wake up with my forearm firmly lodged between Marnie’s breasts. It’s a truly delightful position to find myself in.

It’s also the only thing keeping Marnie from sliding off the edge of the couch.

The tattoo on my forearm is just visible, making it look like a lone daisy is sprouting from her chest. I don’t know if I’ve ever had very strong opinions about cosmic nudges and all that, but matching tattoos seems like a pretty obvious sign. My chin rests in the crook of her neck and I study our tangled limbs.

Her ass is cradled by my hips and her spine curves along my chest. I nuzzle her hair, breathing in her scent. The morning sun is casting bars of light into the room, lighting up her skin, making it look like her hair is twined with gold.

My morning wood presses up against the back of her soft thighs. She stirs, stretching luxuriously, legs lengthening against mine. “What do we have here?”

She murmurs, wiggling her ass against my shaft.

I grip her hips in my hand, arresting her teasing. With a groan, I lean forward, nipping at her ear. “I don’t have any condoms.”

She sighs with frustration. “Just brought the one, huh? Not very ambitious of you.”

“Having serious regrets right now.”

My lips travel to her neck, tongue trailing along her soft skin.

She parts her legs, pulling my hard cock between them. “Just fuck my thighs then.”

Her legs squeeze together, clamping down on my shaft. I groan, mesmerized, as she moves my hand from her hip to the apex between her legs. My fingers slide along her center, dipping in at the middle. She rocks her hips against my hand, dragging my palm across her clit, plunging my cock between her soft thighs. Burying my face in her neck, I thrust my hips and my hands in time with each other. She’s so wet and I’m intentionally messy about the way I touch her, making her thighs slippery.

“You like it this way, baby?”

I ask, growling into her neck.

She nods, her voice shaky. “I’d rather have your cock.”

“Maybe later. If you’re good.”

I say, voice unintentionally dropping low. “Reach down and hold on.”

She immediately obliges, wrapping her small hand around my head, letting the shaft push through the ring of her fingers, only to disappear again.

She tightens her grip and I grunt in pleasure. “Good girl.”

This is, without a doubt, the best hand job I have ever received. It defies imagination, and I’m a pretty creative guy when it comes to things like this. My shaft is like a steel bar and my balls are growing heavy. I need her to come before I do.

I bury two fingers inside her, running my thumb over her clit in determined strokes. She whimpers, bucking against my hand, wiggling that perfect ass over my hips. Her hips twitch, and then a shaky sigh slips off her lips. Her pussy clamps down on my fingers and that’s all the permission I need to stop holding back. I fuck her wet thighs, tensing and coming with a muted roar.

She’s melted back against me, chest rising and falling like she just ran a sprint. “I hope this quilt wasn’t some family heirloom.”

“Uh…”

“Probably will need to be dry cleaned.”

There’s laughter in her voice. “You can do the explaining.”

I roll back, taking her with me with a laugh. She turns in my arms, giggling. Tucking her head under my jaw, she sighs. “I suppose we better get up.”

“Do we have to?”

“Ask your friend.”

I move my arm, realizing we’ve been joined by a very antsy Labrador retriever.

She glances at me. “I bet he needs to potty.”

“Okay, okay. I’m getting up.”

I help her upright, sitting up behind her. She finds her panties under the coffee table, but is struggling to locate her pants and tank top. I tug my jeans on, watching her search. Things were pretty hectic the night before. I have a vague memory of chucking the damn things. It’s fun watching a half-naked Marnie search for her clothes, but finally I relent, tossing her my t-shirt. “Just wear this for now.”

She accepts it without complaint. I liked the half-naked version, but I also really like seeing her with my shirt on. It’s visual evidence of the possessiveness growing inside me.

I follow Ed up the stairs, letting him outside so he can do his business.

Marnie is in the kitchen, still wearing my shirt and her panties and that’s it. Sauntering in, I let my hand skim her ass on my way by. I start coffee while she digs in the fridge. “I’m going to have to clean this thing out.”

Her lips twist as she pulls out a container. Whatever is in there has grown fur.

“Do we need to go back to the barn to get breakfast?”

“I bought groceries yesterday. I’m not a complaint animal.”

A little bubble of hope rises in my chest. I didn’t even see her leave yesterday, but if she decided to get groceries, she must have plans to stay for a while.

She pulls out a carton of eggs and a jug of milk. “French toast?”

I grin. “That is one of the few things I know how to make.”

Her lips quirk up. “You’re cooking?”

“You need to be rewarded.”

She comes to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “How good is this French toast of yours?”

“Very good.”

I like the way she feels against me. She’s nipping out through my shirt, pressing her body against my bare chest.

She rests her cheek against my shoulder, eyes scanning the dining room. “Ugh. It’s so overwhelming.”

I push a lock of hair behind her ears. “What’s overwhelming?”

“I’m going to have to clear this whole place out. I don’t even know where to start.”

My stomach drops. Here I was thinking about the future, when she was thinking about moving on.

We hear Ed barking in the distance, followed by the sound of tires on gravel. I glance out the kitchen window and spot a shiny new pickup pulling up to the house.

I recognize that truck. My mood sinks even lower. “Go get dressed.”

The words come out like a gruff command.

She stiffens, following my gaze outside. “Who’s that?”

“Jerry Lind. I imagine he’s here to talk about buying your land.”

“Really?”

She pushes upright. “Judas. Ask and ye shall receive. Can you answer the door while I get dressed?”

“No.”

She tilts her head. “No?”

“Jerry and I…”

We don’t get along.

I think he’s a stuck up, judgmental asshole.

And he thinks I’m a no-good drunk piece of shit.

I gently pull my shirt over her head, tugging it right back over my own head. “I’ll sneak out the other door and try to buy you a few minutes. But don’t take too long. Else you might find one of us unconscious on the ground.”

She frowns like she wants to ask me more questions. But there isn’t time.

There just isn’t enough time.

With a woman like Marnie, eternity isn’t long enough.