I tilted my head back and looked up at the ceiling, catching my breath enough so I could respond. Her mouth was far more amazing than my cock, that was certain. But before I could, her mouth was on me again, pushing me in deep, her tongue sliding along the underside.
I looked again, watching that copper head bob up and down over me, her occasional moans accompanied my rushed breath. She knew when to slow her pace and when to speed it up again. As if reading my cues.
It had been a long time since I last had sex and that meant this might not last. But she seemed to know how to handle that too. My hips jerked, and I wanted to take control, wanted to push her head up and down. I wanted to come in her mouth and that was about to happen any second now. My eyes rolled back and…
That’s when the knocking and doorbell ringing started.
Fuuuuuuuck.
Kat’s head jerked up. It was like dousing my entire body in ice cold water. “Who’s that? Should we—”
“Fuck no!” I bellowed in frustration, putting my face in my hands.
“But—”
“Nooooo,” I cut her off again. Christ. It had felt so good.
Then my phone started ringing. Because that was just what I needed. I ignored it.
Kat scooped up the phone to read the caller ID. “It’s Julia.”
“Lucas?” A voice called from down below. My mother’s voice.
Katya was off the bed and scrambling to get her clothes back on as fast as she could.
I just lay there, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. Great. Yet another reason to resent my mother. Add cockblocking to the long list. Why not?
Apparently I hadn’t read the schedule right, as I discovered when I’d dressed and rejoined Kat downstairs. My mother, sister and a few others waited with her near the kitchen. Kat had already offered them cold drinks, and they were chatting about something.
Julia smiled, then laughed when she saw me. “Wow, someone has bed head still.” Her eyes flickered to Kat then back to me, clearly speculating.
Well we were newlyweds as far as they were all concerned. Let them speculate that we were about to fuck each other’s brains out.
And how goddamn disappointed I was now because it hadn’t happened.
But that didn’t matter, because we had to run off and join the rest of the large group for a “fun” tour around the vineyard and winery. In addition to attending a tasting before dinner.
I’d rather have private time inside my wife’s pants. Because now I was fucking obsessed with getting inside them.
When she sat next to me in one of the big hayride-style trucks that had been rented to drive us around, I could only stare at her gorgeous profile. She tilted her head toward the sun, closing her eyes and letting that river of ginger silk run down her back.
“The colors in the landscape are so beautiful here,” she said. “See how they are layered? The bright green of the grass and the vineyard, the yellow and brown hills, those deep bluish mountains and the pale blue sky. It’s like a painting.”
“Yeah,” I stared straight at her and ignored where she was indicating. “Incredibly beautiful.”
When she returned my gaze, she smiled, clearly understanding I had no interest in the beauty of the landscape.
“Be a good boy,” she whispered to me.
“I’ve done that for far too long…” I replied before the truck started bumping on one of the back roads and her attention was turned elsewhere.
The wine tasting went as well as a wine tasting could go. I usually found them boring and overly pretentious, though I could appreciate the wine itself.
From across the patio where we stood, grouped at different bar-height tables, I caught a glimpse of man-bun hipster photographer. Which meant the reporter was nearby somewhere, probably commandeered by my mother. I skimmed the selection list, vaguely aware that the camera had been pointed in our direction for some minutes. When I glanced up again, I realized the camera wasn’t focused on us. Man-bun was clearly taking pictures of Kat. Every time she turned in profile or in his direction, there was a distinct and fast-paced click-click-click which made it obvious.
She, however, was completely oblivious that she’d become the photographer’s latest obsession from afar. With a laugh under her breath, Katya admitted, “I have no idea what I’m doing with this.” She stared down at an empty wine scorecard.