Three Days in Town, and the Barista Already Knew My Order novel · Chapter 5 of 24

Chapter 5: Kneel

"I think about kneeling for you," he said.

He kept his eyes on the road.

His hands tightened on the wheel until the knuckles showed.

"That's the start of it," he said. "There's more. I'll say the rest when I can see your face."

"Then drive faster," I said.

He did not drive faster.

He drove up Lamphere Hill at exactly the speed the ice required.

I sat in the passenger seat with my thighs pressed together and counted the mailboxes.

In my kitchen he stood just inside the door with his coat still on.

The stove in the front room had burned down to a red glow.

The light came through the doorway in a long orange bar across the linoleum.

I pulled a straight-backed wooden chair out from the table and sat in it.

"Coat," I said.

He took it off and let it drop.

"Shirt."

He undid the buttons from the top, down to the waist, and shrugged out of it.

"You said on my knees," he said.

"I did. Do it."

He went down.

He knelt on the cold linoleum in front of my chair with his hands resting on his thighs.

His face tipped up to me, and he looked up at me and waited.

I ran my thumb along his lower lip.

"You were so good at the Grange," I said. "Standing there with your pies. Dropping things."

"You did that."

"I know I did."

I hitched up my skirt and pushed it to my waist.

I was wearing nothing under it, which I had been since seven that evening, and which I had been waiting to tell him about.

He saw.

His whole body went rigid, and he made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Yes," I said. "All night. Come here."

He put his hands on my knees and spread them, and I slid forward to the edge of the seat.

I sank my fingers into his hair.

"Mouth."

He bent his head and put his mouth on me.

It was hot and eager, and it was nothing like the careful way he had begun in the flour room.

He licked me from bottom to top with the flat of his tongue and then dragged the tip across my clit.

I gripped the chair seat with my free hand.

"Yes. That."

I held his head and began to rock against his face.

I pushed my hips forward, and he took it, groaning into me.

I rode his mouth in slow, rolling thrusts with his nose pressed against me and his hands holding my thighs apart.

"Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."

He sucked my clit between his lips, and I cried out.

The sound filled the small kitchen.

I looked down at him through half-shut eyes, at his dark lashes and the flush across his cheekbones and his mouth working.

I thought: he wants this.

He wants this more than I do.

I came with my back arched off the chair and my fingers fisted in his hair, my thighs shaking on either side of his head.

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