Page 54 of Forever Yours
“No, I really do need to nap. If you don’t remember, we didn’t get a lot of sleep after cleaning the paint last night, and five a.m. comes at you real fast. If I’m going to stay up to do this judging, I need to get some rest. How about I stop over when I get up, we should have time for dinner before the contest?”
“I don’t know how I’m going to fill my free time, Dev.”
Devlin kissed his cheek and called over her shoulder as she opened the door, “I’m sure you’ll find something productive to do.”
* * * *
Gabe did find something to do, and the afternoon flew by. He’d started a woodworking project in the fall—a long table to set up in the hopeful new eatery. One of the first things he’d done when renovating his parents’ house was build an addition to the garage—a heated workroom where he could craft his projects year-round. He’d been sanding the large tabletop all afternoon and was sweaty enough that he’d pulled off his shirt. He’d just finished off the last section when he heard a low whistle behind him. He turned to see Devlin leaning in the doorway.
“No, please don’t stop. The way your muscles move makes me think indecent thoughts.”
His whole body went on high alert at her words, and he set the sandpaper down, but not before striking a pose with his muscles flexed.
“You like what you see, huh?” he joked.
“More than like,” she answered as she sauntered over to him. “I rang the front doorbell but didn’t get an answer, then I saw the light on back here.”
All reasoning fled his brain as she ran her hands up his chest and pulled him in for a kiss.
“You have me at a disadvantage,” he managed, breaking the kiss as he leaned back on the newly sanded table. “You’re all fresh and showered and I’ve been working in here all afternoon.”
She gave him a small shove and he fell back with no resistance.
“If you haven’t figured out by now that I find you alluring all hot and sweaty, I’ll just have to show you.”
He lay back hard on the table as she undid his pants and took his cock into her mouth, sliding it into the root. The tip nudged the back of her throat before she slid up, letting it out with an audible pop before repeating the process. The swirl of her tongue over the tip every time she raised her head made him see stars. He moved his hands to her hair, running his fingers through it before holding her steady and pumping into her mouth. She brought him to the brink of release, and he let go, trying to pull her up by the shoulders.
She replaced her mouth with her hand, stroking as she leaned up to kiss him. He struggled to tame her long skirt, but she slapped away his hand after grabbing a condom out of her purse. His breath hitched in his throat as she climbed on the table and straddled him, skirt and all.
“Just lay back. You must be so tired after working all afternoon.”
“I know you’re teasing, but the image of you straddling me is the only thing I want to remember when I’m old and gray and I don’t know my name.” He hissed through his teeth as she rolled the condom over his cock.
She raised herself to her knees and positioned her skirt around them, sliding his cock into her tight pussy. He reached under her skirt and grabbed and handful of her ass, urging her into motion. Her hot breath puffed over his face as she leaned over him, her hands braced on either side of his face, raising up and slamming down, rubbing her clit against him on every downward motion.
He looked at her face, her eyes closed in concentration, and silently took back his earlier words. It didn’t matter what image of her was ingrained in his psyche in old age, if the image was of her he’d die a happy man.
He held his breath when she stopped, grinding down on him as her orgasm overtook her, a loud keen coming out of her mouth and his mind snapped a mental picture of her bliss.
Gabe let her rock over him as she came down from her high until he couldn’t stay still any longer, pumping into her one, two, three times until he released with a shout, and he felt his soul leave his body, the ecstasy too much to bear.
Rolling on to his side, he hugged her. He felt her run her hands, exploring over his back and butt.
“No splinters?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, I wouldn’t notice them even if I was a pincushion for them.”
They lay side by side, legs dangling over the edge of the table, and he reached over and took her hand as she scooted closer to lie on his chest.
“You do build sturdy tables,” she offered. “When did you start?”
He paused for a moment, thinking about how he’d started woodworking.
“I did some stuff with my dad, projects here and there around the house, but high school was where I found out how much I loved building things. I had the choice to take woodworking or mechanics and I chose woodworking.”
“I don’t know why, but I pictured you as starting later in life.”
“You’re sort of right. I learned the skills in school but was too young and inexperienced to do much with it until after college.”