Trick - By Lori Garrett Page 0,8

always collect Harlow’s panties and anything else after we finished.

When the missus died a year back, he came to my apartment, hat in his hands, and said it killed him to have to sell, but he’d feel so much better knowing it was going to good hands.

Good hands.

Old Daniels was a good guy, but no doubt he was soft in the head.

“Um, I know Mr. Daniels moved, but we can’t be here. Someone might be keeping an eye on things and see us,” Harlow whispers. “We can go to my place if you like. My apartment is only fifteen minutes away, and Daisy is never around this time of—”

I take out a key and stop her little ramble in its tracks. She flashes questioning eyes my way, but I’m not in the mood for questions. I lead in and she follows, looking around bright and curious.

“Gunner? Is this...yours?”

I try not to mind the amazement. “It is. After Mrs. Daniels passed, Mr. Daniels wanted someone trustworthy to take care of the place.”

Her face looks relieved, like she just figured something out. “Oh! So you take care of this place for Mr. Daniels.”

She doesn’t phrase it as a question, so I don’t offer an answer.

I also don’t admit, even to myself, how hard it sucks that it doesn’t even cross her mind I could have bought this place.

She walks past me, stepping on the shiny oak steps, her hand on the railing. She gets all interested in some picture of horses on the fifth step, and I get a clear view up her skirt.

There’s not a scrap of fabric under it. She’s asking me some crazy question about the one horse’s name or something, but my mind isn’t mine anymore. I’m up the steps before I have time to think and my hands are on her thighs, the skin warm from the sun she’s always worshipping.

I kiss down her neck, suck on the skin almost hard enough to leave a mark. I hear her pull her breath in and drag my mouth away. She isn’t mine to mark.

“You used to get soaked if I told you all the dirty things I wanted to do to you. That still hold, kitten?” I ask kissing along her neck and loving the way she braces one hand on the wall and one on the bannister.

“I’m, uh, not s-s-sure,” she stutters. “No one’s talked dirty to me since you.” She leans back into me and rubs her ass against my hands.

It makes me glad to know I’m the last one who talked dirty to her. I’ve gotta accept that that probably doesn’t mean she’s been celibate, only that the guys she was with didn’t know how to turn her on.

“I’m gonna guess that panties aren’t the only thing you forgot tonight?” I push one hand under the hem of her shirt and, sure enough, the soft, heavy swell of her tit rests against my fingers, her hardened nipple tight under my palm. I kiss her neck and push my other hand up under her shirt. She grinds back into me, moving her ass against my dick.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” I say. “I miss watching that ass when I’m fucking you from behind.” She moans. “You remember that time you got on your hands and knees for me in your daddy's kitchen? He could have come back any second and caught me dick-deep in you.”

Her laugh is low and throaty, cut short on another moan when I squeeze her nipples between my fingers. “I r-r-remember that. I still can’t get a midnight snack at my parents’ house without wanting to feel you in me. I’ve missed it so much, Gunner.” The last words come out on a whimper that makes my head spin.

My hands squeeze her tits, then turn her around. I pull her shirt over her head and her tits bounce, smooth and round in the moonlight. I feel like I’m a starving man staring at a banquet table.

I dip my head down and suck one nipple in, pulling at it with my tongue and grazing softly with my teeth. Harlow holds my head and her fingers tug at my hair.

“I missed you pulling my hair,” I say, licking at one nipple while she yanks harder.

“Same here.” Her smile is a little sad. “We got wild together, didn’t we?”

I only nod, because there’s dirty talk, then there’s reminiscing. Sex with Harlow is already going to be more than I can handle without getting feelings all tangled up