Communion (On My Knees Series Book 3) Page 12

  "Of course,” Luke says. “That sounds great."

  I have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about, but why does that matter?

  Luke steps closer to the baby. "You be good," he says down to her.

  I can't find the right thing to say as I step closer and aim my own smile at her. My throat aches. I tell myself it's just because I understand the feeling. Parent not wanting you...

  "Bye, baby," I murmur, and the woman turns to go.

  As soon as the door closes behind her, I feel that tight weight in my chest again. As I look up at Sky's face, it twists into something sharper. Something more like hurt. Although I don't know why.

  "Well, that's done," he says, and I feel him searching my face for some clue of how I'm feeling. I pull my phone from my pocket so I can look down at it. "Carrie seemed nice."

  I take a seat in one of the armchairs by the coat rack and surf around on my phone. "Got an email that I need to answer,” I say.

  "I could do some of that, too, I guess."

  He sits at his desk and opens his laptop, and I clench my jaw. What is this shit? I feel another burst of irritation that he doesn't notice things are going sideways for me.

  Why should he, though? He's not a fucking mind-reader.

  Not like I am for him.

  Just fucking great. Now I'm bitter and fucking...emotive.

  Sky stops what he's doing and looks up at me. Then his dark brows narrow. He pretends to go back to what he's doing, but after a second, I’m pretty sure that he's not really working. A moment later, he says, "Why don't we go? Let's get some dinner."

  I inhale slowly, trying to shake off whatever the fuck this mood is. "Sure. If you want."

  He gets up and comes over to me, and at the last possible moment, I slide my phone into my pocket.

  "Just need to go downstairs and put a few things away,” I say.

  "It can wait until tomorrow,” Sky says. “No one will touch it with security here overnight."

  I nod. "I guess that's true."

  When we get into the stairwell, he pins me up against the wall. "You going to tell me what's the matter, or do I need to pin you here till you talk?" He presses his hips against mine, and I feel how hard he is for me. My dumb dick twitches even as I grit my teeth.

  "There's nothing wrong.”

  "You're a lousy liar, Rayne babe. But I think I've got a guess. It was the baby, wasn't it? Handing her off made you feel...something."

  I shut my eyes, and he wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Is it because of your dad?" His lips feather gentle kisses along my jaw.

  "Probably,” I whisper.

  He holds me close, even as I feel his hard dick; he's not pressing it against me anymore. "It makes sense, Rayne babe. But Carrie’s going to be good to her."

  I swallow hard, shutting my eyes as I try to let the feeling pass.

  "We'll have kids as soon as you want. And we can adopt them if you want to."

  I can't help a soft laugh. "Isn't that the only option?"

  "They could come from one of us."

  "From you." I'm as surprised by my blurt as he looks like he is. But it makes sense. "You come from an influential family. Powerful and successful. For me, it doesn't matter."

  He presses his forehead to mine. "Dammit, Rayne."

  "You've got a foul mouth for a pastor," I rasp against his cheek.

  He hugs me hard. "You have a God-given talent, Vanny. You're an artist, one of the best I've ever seen. Those genes should be passed on. I'm just a public speaker."

  "You're a dreamer, McD." I hold his head. "You're more than that. You're a visionary. You see something how you want it to be, and then you try to make the thing from the ground up. That's what the world needs more of."

  He kisses my mouth gently. Then he looks into my eyes. "So, we adopt, then?" His lips curl into a smile, and I feel something warm start in my tight throat and spread all through my chest.

  "How did you know?" I ask hoarsely.

  "I don't know." His smile turns almost smirky, and I see the happiness in his eyes. Happiness isn’t it, though; it’s more like I can tell he really sees me. "You were sitting there, and I thought 'he never has urgent emails.' And I could see you were upset then. I felt sorry that I hadn't noticed sooner." He looks somber. "And I realized...I could remember how you looked when she turned from me to you, asking how we found her. The baby. You looked irritated. Like you wished she'd never asked me." His lips move into another small smile. "You had wanted her to ask you."

  My voice is scratchy as I whisper, "I don't know why."

  "You know how I felt when you and I sat on the deck that night on Sea 3PO, right around the time we smoked that joint?"

  I swallow again. "No," I whisper.

  He leans his body against mine, so he's almost limp against me. Heavy. "I felt terrified. Like I just jumped out of a plane without a parachute. I felt like maybe you weren't real because to me you seemed almost...magic. Like this being from outer space or heaven. Like breathing air when I had never breathed. You know how they say you just know?"

  I nod, looking into his eyes.

  Sky says, "Well, I just knew."

  "Really?" He’s never told me this before.

  "Really." He looks vulnerable and not at all like Luke McDowell in this moment. "Bet you didn't,” he teases.

  Now it's my turn to smile. "No, I did. Remember? We talked about it before. How I got to my destination, and I could barely get out of bed for a week."

  "Yeah?"

  "I told you this. How I was all fucked up and didn't know why. Couldn't get you out of my head. It was so much worse when I heard who you really were."

  "You found out on a plane, right?"

  I nod then shake my head as I smile. "I was fucking devastated, dude. Like…devastated."

  "Why?" he murmurs.

  "Well, because I knew that meant you weren't out."

  "And you wanted to see me?"

  "Nah. I didn't think I'd see you again." I suck a breath in, let it out. "I just wanted you to...you know...be happy."

  11

  Vance

  Luke’s mouth closes over mine—rough and hot and sharp from his five o’clock shadow—and he pulls me against him. "How'd I get so lucky?"

  He kisses me so deep and hard it almost hurts, and he's cupping my cock. He reaches over to the stairwell door and swipes his card to lock it. Then he delves into my pants.

  "You're so perfect, Vanny. So kind and…long and hard and...perfect," he says as he gets down on his knees.

  I laugh. "The bottom door..."

  "Doesn't matter,” he rasps. “No one's here. If it opens, I'll stand up and you'll zip your pants."

  "Oh…" I laugh. "That easy."

  "No, hard." He takes me in his mouth and gives my cock a suck that feels so good it nearly buckles my knees.

  "Fuuck."

  "Watch your mouth, Vanny. Actually, watch mine." He grins up at me, heavy-lidded, and then licks all up and down me. He drags his tongue over my balls and laps along the faint line at the middle of my taut sac. Then he rolls my balls in his hand and laps warmly behind them. I sag against the wall as he licks my hole. Then he reaches into his pocket and I hear something tear.

  "You with that lube." I can't help laughing softly at how prepared he is.

  "So I can fuck you every chance I get."

  "Ah, that pastor life."

  His thumb prods behind my balls as he takes my cock back into his mouth. Then he’s teasing me with a slick finger. He presses in, and my legs tremble. Then he adds a finger, probing so I’m seeing stars. Then he's in so deep that my legs give way. I'm sliding down the wall, the motion bringing his long fingers deeper, even as he kneels in time with me.

  "Lie down, Rayne babe. I need better access."

  I do as he asks, keeping my legs raised for privacy in case someone comes through the unlocked lower stairwell door. I moan as he pushes another finger into me. His hand is slicked with lube so I can take a l
ot. Still, I can't help a louder groan as he brushes my prostate.

  "Oh God."

  I think I hear him chuckle as he runs his tongue up my shaft.

  “Someone’s leaking…”

  He laps at my cockhead, and it feels so good, I can’t keep myself quiet.

  Every time his fingertip brushes my p-spot, my whole lower body tightens till I'm wound tight and about to explode. Then he starts to really suck my dick. He’s going firm but gentle, trying not to overwhelm me—but it’s so good I’m grunting, my legs so weak and uncoordinated that I can barely flex them, my cock swelling thick and tight and hard. He sucks me harder, swallows deeper, and I know I can't last too much longer.

  My hands in his hair tighten. "Sky," I rasp.

  Then the base of his palm presses upward from the bottom of my throbbing balls. His fingers in me push deep, making me so fucking full. One finger rubs me just right, till I'm nearly shouting.

  "Ah God, Sky…sweet Jesus." His mouth has gone slack on my cock.

  "Suck me...please,” I beg.

  I thrust into his throat, and his fingers press still deeper, making my knees fall open as I see stars—and then he sucks me like he means it. He hums as he does it, and I throb so hard I nearly blackout as my cum sprays down his velvet soft throat.

  When he's finished, I feel drunk and dizzy, almost boneless, like I couldn’t get up if I had to. Sky is dazed, with big pupils and pink lips and that dreamy look on his mouth like he's smirking, but it's sweeter. I look at his pants and find he's damn near ripped a hole in them.

  "You're nice and ready," I murmur, almost slurring from how good my body feels.

  "I'm not coming in the stairwell." He smiles, looking abashed, and I sit up straighter.

  "I think you're coming where I want you to come, McDowell. This might be your church but you're my husband and I'll make you come when you're rocking a boner like that. Fucking hurts."

  I unzip his fly and reach into his pants and work his long, hard cock out through the zipper. Then I get up on my knees, my own half-erection bobbing, and pop his cockhead into my mouth. I suck and lick around its thick circumference.

  "This discreet enough?" I rub his balls through his pants, already knowing that's where he wants my hands. He wants me rolling those big balls and tugging on them. Then he wants my fingers in his hole, filling his bottom like the filthy switch he really is.

  "I can just suck like this," I offer in a whisper.

  I don't suck, though. I lick up and down his shaft, thrusting my tongue into his fly to taste the warm, fragrant skin of his base. I bathe his cockhead with my tongue, with focus on his tiny slit and that sweet spot there at the underside of his thick, oozing cockhead.

  I can tell he's given in when his hips tremble and his hands come down on my head. "Vance..."

  I palm his balls again, groping through the fabric of his pants. Then I draw my mouth off his cock. "Could just take these down a little." I pull his pants down his hips, and he shuts his eyes as I unbutton them and tug his boxer-briefs down. I hook them behind his balls, so they're covering my access to his hole, and I start licking his sac how he likes.

  Soon enough he's groaning, grunting as I suck one of his balls into my mouth. He can barely stay on his knees. He's swaying, his whole lower body shaking.

  "Like that, huh? If only you could take these all the way down” —I tug at his boxer-briefs— “Then I could get to something else."

  "Not on the stairs," he groans.

  "Oh okay. Just the cock then." I start licking again, and he growls as he jerks his boxer-briefs down with a glance at the bottom of the stairwell.

  "If we can walk down there, I'll lock it," he groans.

  I grin. "Be my guest, Pastor."

  I watch as he hobbles down the stairs, ass bared to me, huge cock jutting out in front of him and bobbing with each step. He tries to push it back into his boxer-briefs, but it springs out.

  "Dammit," he snarls, taking the stairs two at a time. He practically falls against the bottom door before slapping his card against it. Then he turns around, his back pressed to the door, and he slides down it. It’s my turn to take the stairs two at a time, with my dick bobbing, as he slides spreads his legs and strokes his own cock.

  "God Vance, I'm losing my mind..."

  “Not yet,” I whisper, “but pretty soon you will be.”

  I start with his balls, sucking and laving them with my tongue till he's groaning loudly, shifting his hips, thrusting a little, making his dick bob. "Suck me," he manages.

  So...I suck his asshole, and he comes undone. He's shivering as I glide a lubed finger in, and when I find his prostate, his whole body jerks, and he shouts.

  "Oh shit. Shit, Vance. Somebody's gonna hear..."

  I pull my shirt off, shove it in his mouth, and give him a grin. He looks so dazed. It's fucking cute.

  Then I suck his dick into my mouth, blowing him just like he likes to be blown—lots of small licks all along the sides of his shaft, lots of tongue action around his head, and then some teasing sucks and at last deep-throating so he can blow in the snug warmth of my throat.

  At the same time, I fill him with two fingers, fucking his hole while he moans into my shirt and his abs tighten and twitch with his deep breaths.

  "Vance," I hear him groan around the fabric of my shirt.

  I suck my cheeks in around his cock and stroke him slowly with my fingers, pulling out then easing slowly in and drawing out before I start to gently stroke his p-spot.

  I can feel him losing control. His precum spills down my throat, and he grabs onto my head and pushes me down—something that he only ever does when he's out of his mind. He thrusts his hips toward me, making me choke as more precum leaks and his balls tighten.

  Then he gives a strangled groan and holds my head more gently. I hear his muffled, "Love you." And he comes apart, trembling as he groans and blows down my throat, his whole body twitching with each thick rope of cum he spurts for me. Afterward, he goes still as I lap around him, and then draw my fingers out of his hole.

  He groans again.

  "You want me to leave them in, don't you?" I tease.

  His eyes peek open. "Love you in me," he whispers, red-cheeked and spent.

  "I could fuck you, you know. Right here in this stairwell. Fill you up and make you come again, till you're too tired to walk and have to hold onto me as we walk out to the car. How's that for a long, hard day?"

  I can tell he likes the plan because his cock gives a twitch. I rub my fingertips along the sides of his shaft, gentle, waiting to see if he’s good for another go. I can’t resist kissing his mouth. I’m only going for a soft, sweet kind of thing—a little “I love you”—but soon we’re going at it and he’s getting harder in my fist. "Still got gas in the tank,” I whisper between kisses.

  "I need more than that in the tank." He laughs as he says it, looking tired and happy.

  "Oh, I know. You need a hose in this tank," I say, fingering his bottom. I feel a quick bolt of pride that he lets me do this now. That he trusts me enough to relax and let me take care of him. Let me fuck him. I love fucking his ass, making him lose control. Sometimes he needs it.

  I take the lube packet I got from him earlier and coat my cock, which has been hard and throbbing since I made him come.

  "Fast and dirty," I smile, holding his gaze as I pump his warm shaft. Then I push a finger into him. I love the way his hips jerk.

  "That's right, McD.” My voice is husky from how much I want him. “Sometimes you just need to have your hole stuffed in a stairwell."

  He groans at those words. My dirty Sky.

  I push deeper and he comes off the floor. He grips my forearm, strokes it as I lean over him and kiss him. He moans into my mouth.

  When I pull back, smiling at his lust-drunk look, he shuts his eyes and grits out, “Give it to me. Now, V.”

  I do just that, shoving in so deep he gives a soft shout. Then I’m pounding him, and his whole body pebbles w
ith chills.

  "That's right, baby. Let me bring you home one more time."

  Just a few strokes where I tease his prostate and I can feel him getting close to coming. He's so tight around my cock, and he's panting so loud.

  "Vance. Oh..." He groans, and my balls throb. Then Luke jets like a geyser, and I'm coming from the look on his face.

  “So damn perfect.” I lean down, wrapping him against me for a second. We both laugh, because that’s what we do—fuck in the stairwell and grin about it like a couple of miscreants. He seems out of it, flushed and still grinning, so after I right my own clothes, I help put him back together and pull him to his feet.

  I give him a teasing smile. “You wanna shower before we go?”

  He grins wider, dipping his head as he shakes it. “I can handle it.”

  I squeeze his tight ass. “What a dirty boy.”

  12

  Vance

  He leans his back against the stairwell door, and I kiss him slow and soft. He wraps his arms around my neck, his cheek warm against mine. “I love you Rayne,” he says, sounding husky.

  "I love you more, my Sky babe." I play with the soft, short hairs at his nape.

  "Let's go somewhere on the way home,” he says. “Let's go inside."

  "Really?"

  He looks down, as if he's just remembering his current cum-stuffed status. I swear, I see him fucking blush. "Maybe tomorrow?" he says.

  I smirk. "Sure." I kiss his jaw. Smells damn good. We’re kissing again, and it’s the best I’ve felt all day—this moment with just us and nothing else, and no one.

  We walk slowly to the car, his warm fingers laced with my sore ones, and I drive home, and he lies his seat back a little.

  "You tired, old man?"

  He gives a little crooked smile. "I really am."

  “Still feeling the heat?” I look at the small crow’s feet around his eyes. Sometimes if he hasn’t slept well for a while, they’ll look a little deeper. “It still a big strain on your day-to-day?”

  He snickers. "I know something big that is a strain.”