Greetings from Sugartown (3 page)

I walk into the lounge room; Ana’s nowhere in sight. Weird, considering she’s usually cooking dinner at this time. Yeah, I realise that just made me sound like a complete and utter arsehole, but I help too. Usually. I chop onions and shit … okay, most of the time she just dances around my clumsy arse until she gets annoyed enough with me dropping shit, and finally tells me to get the hell out. But I help out in other ways. I’m a wiz with a power tool, and if you need the garbage taken out, I have got that shit down. Plus I’m a master at providing an endless supply of stress-relief in the form of multiple orgasms.

Walking through the dark house, I start to think maybe I just got lucky and she’s in the shower, and I can ditch the package somewhere safe and go join her, but as I get closer to the hallway I realise that’s not the case.

I push the bedroom door open and find Ana sprawled on the bed in nothing but her sexy, black lace underwear.
Damn, I’m a lucky bastard
.

“Where have you been?” I can tell she’s trying hard to control the temper, but it’s barely hidden behind the lusty eyes she gives me.

“There was an accident, I got sent through a detour. Sorry, baby girl.”

“It’s fine,” she says, though it doesn’t sound fine.

Let me clue you in on a little fact. When a woman says things are fine, it means things are really not fine.
Not fucking fine
. And the more
fines
you get in a sentence, the worse things are. “You can make it up to me by taking off your clothes and coming over here.”

I practically choke and hide it with a fake cough. My hands instinctively fly to my chest, covering the bulge inside my jacket pocket. “Um, I better not. I got that bug, remember?”

“You seem fine.”

“Yeah, it’s a raspy throat, but it kinda comes and goes. I think I’m just going to go shower.”

“Well, why don’t I join you?” Ana says.

“Er, that’s okay, baby. Why don’t you go fix us something to eat and we’ll watch some TV, and snuggle on the couch?”

It’s only after the words leave my mouth that I realise how stupid that was. But I panicked … I had to say something to get rid of her. This rock feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket, right through to my chest.

“You want a beer too? What about a foot rub, or a fucking blow job while you watch the footy on the flat screen?” Ana clambers over the bed, shoves her arms through her robe and stands before me with her hands resting on her hips, her gaze an inferno.

Fuck me
. She’s so fucking hot when she gets riled up. My eyes sweep over her, from the swell of her perfect tits to her tanned legs, and back again. My cock twitches, but my eager expression gets me in even more trouble. She stalks from the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Babe,” I call after her, but the damage is done, and I have all of about ten seconds before she comes stamping back in, ready for round two.

I run over to my dresser, pull out the drawer and shove the package right at the very back, underneath the holey underwear and odd socks that I won’t throw away. Tomorrow I’ll worry about finding a safer place for it, but for now I have to get rid of it.

Twenty minutes later we’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch. She’s chowing down on a B.L.T that puts my vegemite on toast to shame, and we’re watching some American nature documentary on the most deadly animals in Australia. I’m pretty sure if she wasn’t mad as a cut snake we’d both be laughing our arses off at the terrible overacting.

“Where did you really go today?”

I sigh.
I knew she wouldn’t let this go
. “I came home, got bored. Wanted to head back to the shop, but I knew your dad would pitch a bitch fit at me if I made him sick, so I just jumped on the bike and drove up the highway. I was on the Gold Coast before I realised where I was going, and then I stopped at a beach further up. Ana, what’s this about? Why the hell are you so worked up?”

“Why am I worked up? I took the day off so I could come look after you, only when I get here I discover you’re not sick at all, just gallivanting all over the countryside instead.”

I raise my brows. “Gallivanting? Really?”

“And as if that’s not bad enough,” she continues, as if I haven’t spoken, “I wait around all afternoon in my underwear, and the second you stroll through in the door you shut me down.”

“Baby, I love seeing you in your underwear, you know that. I just didn’t want you to catch this.”

“And that’s another thing. You’re horny when you’re sick. Like, grab-me-by-the-hair-and-haul-me-off-to-the-bedroom-cave-man-style horny. Today, you just looked panicked. So what the hell is going on, Cade?”

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, and I needed half a second to unwind. Trust me, baby, if I ever don’t want to lay you out before me and fuck you ‘til you’re walking with a limp, you’ll know about it.”

Ana opens her mouth to say something more, but I hold up a finger to stop her, and then I bust out the dimples and pat my lap. She frowns, shakes her head, and then she crawls across the sofa and seats herself in my lap anyway. The line between her brows suggests she’s not completely happy to be there, despite it being her choice.

I lean forward and kiss her lips, but even though she’s straddling my lap, she’s still mad, and not gonna give it up without making me work for it. Which is one of the things I love about her. Half the time I do shit just to piss her off, because fucking her back to her happy place is just as much of a rush as flying down the highway on my bike.

I take her wrists in my hands and run my thumbs over each of the delicate swallows decorating them. These tattoos are a brand; they’re my brand, in as much of a way as a wedding ring placed on her dainty little finger would be. I press a kiss to the ink as I look into her eyes. A smile plays at the corner of her mouth; she fights it, and tries to force a frown.

“Give it up, baby girl,” I say, and she does. This laugh slips free, and it’s fucking pure, unadulterated heaven. My dick’s hard as fucking rock, and hotter than lava. I take hold of her waist and slam her arse down on my crotch, grinding my cock against her. “You feel that?”

She nods. “Kinda hard not to, Cade.”

“Never doubt how I feel about you, Ana. I’m never gonna stop loving you, and baby, I am never ever gonna get tired of fucking your sweet little pussy.” I open the sash on her robe and push the silk from her shoulders. I lower my head to her tits, sucking her nipple, along with the black lace of her bra, into my mouth. Her nails dig into the skin on the back of my neck. I pull her closer with the arm that’s circling her waist, wrap her ponytail around my wrist and yank on it. Ana’s breath catches in her throat. I hold her gaze with mine. “Do we need to talk more about this?”

She tries to shake her head but I won’t release her hair from around my wrist, so her range of movement is limited. “No, we don’t need to talk.”

“You trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then no more fucking thoughts. Thoughts lead to fear, and that leads to fights, and while you’re sexy as fuck when you’re angry, you’re also stubborn as hell. And I don’t wanna fight. I just wanna bury myself inside you, and fuck you so hard you see stars. We good here?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

I pull the band from her hair, silky blonde waves tumble down around her shoulders. I slide my hands through them, feeling the softness, breathing in the rich vanilla scent of her shampoo that ignites a fuse in my veins.

Her fingers tremble as she pops the button on my fly. I let her unzip me, and then I grasp her hands firmly before she can pull my cock free. I tug at her robe, slide her bra strap from her shoulder. “These. Off.”

She laughs and slides the silk off her body. Goosebumps break out all over her flesh. I set her on her feet and don’t waste any time shedding my jeans, and then I pump my cock into my fist as I watch her undress the rest of the way. “Hurry up, baby girl. Or I’m gonna start counting, and when I get to one, if you’re not completely naked, soaking wet and spread before me on the couch, I’m going to ruin another one of your pretty lingerie sets.”

One perfect blonde brow arches in challenge. Ana’s arms drop from the clasp of her bra, and she slowly peels the lace away. It falls to the floor with a whisper. I clench my jaw and inhale sharply through my nose. “Five ... four ...”

She stands defiantly before me, wearing just a pair of lacy knickers, unhurried. I take a step towards her. “Three ... two ...”

I don’t even make it to one before she launches herself at me. Maybe we both lunge at each other.
Who the fuck cares?
All I know is Ana’s in my arms, thighs wrapped around my hips, her wet, lace-covered pussy pressed against my hard stomach, and our mouths are devouring one another. I stumble forward, and wind up slamming her back into the wall. She protests, but it comes out as more of a moan, so I ignore it in favour of transferring my arms until they’re under her arse. I allow the wall to take her weight, but I wedge my knee between her legs so she doesn’t fall and I use both hands to tear off her underwear. Ana gasps, but I know it’s all for show—she fucking loves it when I go caveman on her sexy arse.

“One,” I whisper in her ear, and lick that sweet spot beneath her jaw.

“I love it when you get to one.”

“I know.” I chuckle. “Press your back into the wall, babe.”

She does as I ask. Using the wall as leverage, I lift her arse so her pussy is level with my face, her thighs resting on my shoulders. My tongue darts out to taste her.
Fucking perfect
. Ana wraps her thighs tighter around my head and bucks against me. I spear her with my tongue, plunging inside as far as I can without pulling a muscle—or suffocating.
Death by pussy. What a way to go
.

She grinds her pelvis against my mouth until she’s panting, her back slamming against the wall with each breath. I let her ride my face until she’s close, and then I draw her clit into my mouth and take her over the edge. Ana comes, kicking and screaming as her fingers tug at my hair. Her thighs tremble against my shoulders, and I’m not gonna lie, it kinda feels like she just kicked my kidneys in.

“Christ. Remind me to have an oxygen tank nearby the next time we attempt that,” I joke as I wipe her arousal from my chin with the back of my hand. “For a minute there, I thought I could see a white light.”

She lets out a groan, which quickly turns into a lethargic little laugh.

I love this part—where her limbs have turned to jelly, and she’s so caught up in the afterglow that she forgets to be self-conscious, forgets the dark place that scumbag Scott had taken her, and she just lets go. It’s pure bliss. Ana’s come a long way since all that shit, and it usually doesn’t touch us when I’m touching her, but from time to time I catch her slipping back into that darkness when she doesn’t think I’m paying attention. It’s usually around that time that I do something extra douchie so she’ll yell, or throw things at me, and then I can make her forget by sweeping her up into some fucking awesome make-up sex.

I tell her to plant her hands against the wall, and then I shift my arms beneath her. Ana carefully lowers her legs one at a time, and wraps them around my waist. She snags my bottom lip with her teeth. I drive my tongue into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself on me. I tangle my hands in her hair, and then I walk us across the room, where I lay her down on the back of the sofa.

As she’s stretched out before me, I run my hands over her perfect tits, down to her soaked pussy, and then I slide my arm beneath her hip and flip her over until she’s lying face down, her back bowed, arse in the air, and her perfect pussy on full display. I slap her arse hard, just once—because I can’t help myself—and then I slide my cock between her cheeks and down into her warmth.

Ana gasps as I bury myself balls’ deep. I allow her a second to adjust to my size, and then I begin pounding her as furiously as she rode my face a few minutes ago. I lean forward and grab a fistful of hair. Wrapping it around my wrist, I force her head back, her throat arching upward as I thrust mercilessly inside. It isn’t long before her pussy clenches around my cock, tight and wet, and so fucking sweet it hurts. She rides out the rest of her orgasm by slamming her hips back into mine. My balls tighten, and her pleasure tips me over the edge. I pull out, and hot come jets out all over her cheeks. I slowly rub it into her milky skin with the palm of my hand.

“This arse is mine.” I trail my hands down her seam and trace my come-stained fingers over her pussy, focusing my attention on her clit. She moans, her legs shake, and she presses herself against my hand. “This pussy is mine.”

She nods. “Yes.”

“Say it, Ana. I wanna make sure we’re crystal clear.”

She protests as I pull my hand away, and then I slap her clit. It’s not a hard slap, but it’s enough to gain her attention. Her whole body stills beneath me. She lets out a shaky breath. “Yours.”

I move my fingers back to her clit, stroking softly, just hard enough to keep her on edge, but not enough to make her come. “What’s mine?”

“My pussy.”

I slap her perfect cunt again. She flinches, and then she gently pushes against my hand. It’s clear she’s torn between wanting more and wanting me to stop.

“My arse,” she whispers.

I double my assault, pushing two fingers inside as I rub her clit. “And?”

“Me,” she pants. “All of me. I’m yours.”

“That’s right, baby girl,” I whisper as she comes against my hand. I lean over her body, not caring that I’m getting jizz all over the couch. “And I’m all yours. Always have been.”

If I knew with one hundred per cent certainty that she’d say yes, I’d ask her right this second. But my heart gives a pathetic little stutter at the thought of dropping to my knees and having her reject me. Plus, answering that, “How did he pop the question” line with, “Well we were both covered in spunk, and he’d just fucked me senseless and then he proposed with his junk all hanging out” could be kinda awkward. Especially around Bob. Thanks to a home movie and a curious six year old, the dude’s already seen way too much of my junk. I don’t need him picturing it as he contemplates walking her down the aisle at our wedding.