A Guy Walks Into My Bar - Lauren Blakely Page 0,76

of a smile tugs at his lips, and he tips his forehead to the door. “Good. Get inside.”

“And can I show you how I intend to make it up to you?”

That earns me a devilish smile. “You damn well better.” He bends, picks up the box, then finds his keys and unlocks the door.

He opens it, and I follow him in, relieved in a whole new way. Thrilled that I didn’t fuck up the best thing to ever happen to me.

I trail him up the stairs, happiness washing over me because I have this time with him. A little more than twenty-four hours, and I plan to make the best of them.

As soon as we’re inside his flat, he lowers the box, pulls at the hem of my shirt, and jerks me against him. “Now listen, Fitz,” he says, and I can’t stop grinning because I’m Fitz again. I’m out of the penalty box.

“I’m listening,” I say.

His eyes blaze, and he’s dirty, bossy Dean once more. “We’ve got a day. I would rather fuck and have fun. And right now, here’s what that means.” He licks his lips while he slides his hand under my T-shirt, up my abs, making me shiver.

“Tell me what it means,” I rasp.

His hand spreads over my pecs. “It means I want you to show me what it’s like when the man I’m crazy for makes up to me properly.”

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Forget all in.

I am so in love with him, it’s insane. It’s going to eat me alive. And I am going to let it. I am going to let this feeling take over my body and mind.

I grab his face. “I’m so damn happy you feel the same way.”

“I do. I do feel the same,” he says, and my heart soars. He keeps me close, his hands on my face too, as he toes off his shoes. Then he lets go of me and walks to the couch, stripping off his shirt and tossing it to the floor. He parks himself on the sofa, stretches his arms across the back of it, then spreads his legs for me.

He’s wearing his jeans and nothing else.

And he’s waiting for me to take care of him.

Oh hell, do I want to. Do I ever want to show Dean how sorry I am.

I kick off my shoes. My mouth waters as I walk over to my man and tug off my shirt.

I climb onto his lap, my hands settling on his shoulders then traveling down his firm and muscled arms.

“Let me grovel. Let me show you how sorry I am,” I whisper, as I bend my head to his neck, kissing him there in the way that drives him wild.

“Mmm. That helps. That helps a lot,” Dean says, sinking deeper into the cushions as I trail my tongue and my lips across his neck, the way I did the first time I ever touched him.

His fingers thread into my hair, and he tugs, pulling me down.

Making his intentions so damn clear.

I smile against his body as I follow his lead, my lips sliding along his chest as I kiss a hot trail along his pecs then down to his abs.

“How about this? This help too?” I lick a line along the grooves of his abs, across, down, traveling closer to his erection.

“That’s pretty good,” he pants. “But it might help a little more like this . . .”

His hands move to his jeans, unbuttoning the top button. I slide to the floor, kneeling between his legs as I work down the zipper. “I can definitely be of assistance.”

He lifts his ass and pushes the denim down to his thighs, his fantastic cock springing free and greeting me with a very happy hello.

Dean runs a hand down his stomach, takes his cock in his fist, then rubs the crown against my lips. My eyes roll back in my head as I lick him.

“Show me how you grovel, Fitz,” he says, all rough and commanding as his other hand curls around my head, yanking me close to his dick.

“With pleasure. With so much fucking pleasure.” I wrap my lips around the head, and I groan against his length because he tastes so damn good.

I want all of him in my mouth, want him to fill me up. I want to show him that he deserves all the pleasure in the world from me, only me. So I draw him in, inch by inch, spiraling my tongue along his shaft