“That I can do,” Oliver says as he undoes his pants. His cock emerges and my mouth goes dry as I see it again in the dim, dusty light filtering through the soaped-over windows. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say as I wrap my legs around him and pull him closer. “I’ve just missed you. And that mind-blowing cock of yours. Speaking of blowing . . .”
“Later,” Oliver says as he crushes my lips in another soul-searing kiss. I moan in agreement as I feel him line up naturally with me and slide in, stretching me open. My heart thrills as he fills me, body and soul, and I clutch at his powerful shoulders as we start moving as one, his cock sliding into me over and over. I squeeze my pussy around him as we look into each other’s eyes, opening up fully.
How did I miss this? How, when from the first time he looked in my eyes as we had sex, I saw this same gleam, the same tenderness, the love in his eyes?
It doesn’t matter now as we move, our souls joining even as his cock speeds up. Our lips meet in another kiss, and we share breath, my heart hammering in my chest as we push together. His cock lights up my body as he drives into me harder and faster. Claiming me? No, he claimed me weeks ago. Now, we’re completing each other.
“Oliver . . .” I moan as he speeds up again, his cock hammering me and his balls slapping against my ass. I claw at his neck, passion overwhelming tenderness as we kiss hard, biting his lip as he growls, his cock swelling. I feel him tremble, and with a deep groan, he comes, filling me with his warm seed.
My body reacts, and I’m coming too, squeezing and milking his cock of every last precious drop of his essence as I hold him, sobbing in joy as he stays deep inside me, holding me close as we ride out our orgasms. When I finally come down, he’s holding me tenderly, and I hear the vulnerability in his voice. “Mindy, I’m so . . .”
“I know,” I whisper in his ear, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close. “Like we said, let’s move forward.”
Now the hard work starts, but I’m not afraid of hard work.
Chapter 28
Mindy
I look up at the sign, pride swelling in my heart as the workers make the final adjustments to the sign. Mindy’s Corner.
“Wow, they work fast,” Brianna says, coming out of the cafe. She looks up, nodding in approval. “I’m glad you named the place after yourself.”
“Well, Oli gets to name the second floor, so I get to name the first,” I say with a smile. “And besides, I get to have the bigger sign.”
“It’s not the size of the sign that counts,” Brianna jokes. “Although it certainly doesn’t hurt.”
“We talking about signage or sausage?” I tease, and in a move that reassures me I haven’t totally lost my damn mind this past month, Brianna blushes. “Oh, come on, I’m woman enough to admit that Gavin’s probably got Oliver beat.”
“And you’re not jealous?” Brianna asks. I shake my head, and she grins. “Why’s that?”
“Simple,” I say, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “My man has a tongue that can tie and untie my apron blindfolded, and he’s definitely not lacking downstairs. Also, the fact that he can make my toes curl without making me walk like a cowboy after he takes me from behind is a plus.”
“Hey!” Brianna says, blushing. “I don’t walk like a cowboy!”
“Well, let’s just mosey on inside again then . . . cowgirl. See how the boys are doing.”
We go inside, where I see Oliver and Gavin working together on the back wall of the restaurant, and I have to laugh watching the two undeniably manly men getting salmon pink paint splattered on themselves.
“Keep that up, and I’m going to make you take off that T-shirt!” I tease Oliver, who turns and gives me a cocky grin before peeling his shirt over his head. Not to be outdone, Gavin pulls his shirt off too, and while I make Brianna a Pina colada iced frappe, we get to watch our men work. By the time the frappe’s done, I need a drink myself.
I whip myself up an iced mocha with all the shiny new equipment. Best of all is the grill downstairs. We’re going to be able to expand to a full restaurant setup when we want. In the meantime, downstairs is going to be our bakery. I’ve already taught Oliver how to make cinnamon rolls. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” Brianna says, not even pausing her eye-fuck of Gavin. “If you really wanna know, yes, we did, and yes, I loved it.”
“Please,” I laugh, shaking my head before growing serious again. “Not that. Although we’re coming back to that story in a minute. Actually, I wanted to know . . . are you and Gavin really okay with my leaving the Beangal’s Den? I mean, he bought that place for me to manage.”