“Sage!” I cry out as my orgasm explodes through me, leaving me lightheaded and limp. I’m panting as my eyes open and I find him staring down at me.

“So fucking beautiful. Better than I remember,” he whispers, and I lick my lips then sit up. Forced to pull his fingers from me, he puts them in his mouth and his eyes fall closed. “Definitely better than I remember.” His eyes open, and I push him to his back.

“Please,” I whisper when he tries to stop me from unhooking his jeans. Studying me for a moment, he gives in with a shake of his head and lies back. Releasing him, I watch his long, thick cock flex up toward me and my mouth waters. He’s perfect everywhere; even his cock is perfect, long, smooth, and hard with thick veins that run the length of it.

I wrap my fingers around him and my pussy contracts when they don’t meet. I remember what it felt like to have him inside me, the stretch and slow burn of pleasure he brought on with each thrust. Looking up at him, I place my lips around the head of his cock and slowly sink down on it, taking him as far as I can go without gagging. Keeping my hand at the base, I twist and pull while I suck and lick, watching his expression as I drive him closer to the edge.

“Fuck, baby.” His fingers slide into my hair, and his abs tighten as he leans up to watch me take him into my mouth. “Jesus, I’m gonna fucking come,” he warns.

Taking him even deeper, I work my hand in faster strokes. I want him on my tongue and down my throat. I want him to come in my mouth. I want to taste the pleasure I’ve given him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants as his eyes close and his hips lift off the bed, sending him down my throat as he comes.

Swallowing down every last drop, I lick him clean, wondering what the hell came over me. I’ve never swallowed before… or enjoyed giving a blowjob, for that matter. But I did enjoy giving one to him. No, I didn’t enjoy it; I loved it.

“Christ.” He pulls me up under my arms onto his chest then kisses me deep and wet before pulling back, studying me. “Now I’m even more pissed at myself for walking away,” he mutters.

I can’t help it. The comment is sincere and so funny that I laugh loudly and drop my forehead to his pec. Hearing my stomach growl a second later, I lean back to look at him. “I think I’m still hungry,” I tell him, and he smiles then leans up, kissing me softly before dragging me from the bed, handing me my bra once I’m standing.

“Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done getting ready,” he says right before he disappears into the closet, coming out a minute later with a shirt in his hand. He doesn’t say anything as he walks by me to leave the room, but his fingers graze across my stomach the way they did the first day we met. It leaves something warm sitting in the pit of my stomach as I put on my bra.

Pulling my shirt on, I head for his bathroom, noticing the toothbrush I bought when I was staying with him is still in the holder. I use it quickly before taking a brush to my hair and putting on some ChapStick. I didn’t really dress up for work today, so I figure my outfit of dark jeans, a red, long-sleeved, scoop-neck shirt, and my black, leather booties that match my jacket is casual enough for whatever we end up doing.

As soon as I’m done straightening myself out, I head to the kitchen, where Sage is already waiting with his back to me and his head bent as he flips through a stack of mail in front of him. Standing unnoticed, I take a second to enjoy the view of his ass in the jeans he has on and the way the dark green Henley he changed into fits him like a second skin, showing off the muscles in his arms and back. When he turns to face me, I realize that the back view may be good, but the front is even better. His shirt is molded to his wide chest, and the deep green of his shirt makes his eyes even more phenomenal, if that’s even possible.

“Ready?” he asks, and I nod, letting him lead me with his hand against my lower back to the front of the house. Grabbing my jacket at the front door, I put it on then take his hand when he offers it. He closes the door behind us and locks up, then takes me to the passenger side door and helps me in.

I buckle up while he walks around the hood and slides in behind the wheel. “Where are we going?” I ask as he turns on the car and reverses out of the yard.

“There’s a few places nearby. Do you feel like having Mexican, Italian, or American?” he inquires, and I wonder which one of those will have the best menu for my new diet. Deciding on Mexican, he drives us to a small strip mall that has a nail place, a donut shop, and a Mexican restaurant in it. He parks near the front door and shuts down the engine, unhooking his belt before opening his door.

Getting out, I meet him at the hood where he takes my hand. The smell of spices and meat hits me when we walk through the door, and my stomach growls again. “Holy cow, look at that,” I say, pointing out a picture of the guy from Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives standing with a very pretty petite Mexican woman. “Now I’m even more hungry,” I admit, and he laughs, tucking me under his arm. I’m not lying; every time I watch that show, my mouth waters and I wish I could be there eating the food, so I’m super excited to experience something from the show firsthand.

“Sit anywhere, you two. Someone will be with you in a moment,” a woman says, and Sage nods before leading me to a booth in the back of the small restaurant.

Sliding across the leather seat, I smile at him as he takes a seat across from me and scans the room—my guess, looking for danger. “Anyone suspicious?” I whisper, and his eyes come to me.

“Habit.” He laughs, and I grin at him.

“Hello, my friends. What can I get you two to drink?” a man asks, coming up to the table and placing menus in front of us.

“Water, with lemon please,” I request, and he nods at me before looking at Sage.

“Beer, whatever you got in a bottle that’s cold.”

“All right, I’ll be back.” He half bows at us before taking off toward the back of the restaurant, coming back a second later with a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa, setting them on the table before leaving again. Picking up a chip, I dunk it in the salsa and take a bite, and my eyes widen.

“Hot?”

“God, yes.” I fan my mouth then grab my water when the waiter sets it down in front of me. I don’t even care how bad I look chugging from the glass. My mouth is on fire.

“Did I give you the hot one?” the waiter asks, and I blink away the tears leaking from my eyes. I don’t know if it’s the hot one, but it is hot.

Watching Sage dunk his own chip in the salsa and pop it in his mouth, I laugh when he has the same reaction I just had. His mouth opens and his eyes water as he puts his beer to his lips and chugs.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new one.” The waiter picks up the salsa and leaves only to appear out of thin air as he sets a new salsa between us. “It should be okay now.” He smiles.

“Thank you.” I smile at him before he walks off.

“It should be okay?” Sage repeats, and I smile as I bite into another chip without dunking it in the salsa.

“You heard that, too?” I grin, shaking my head. “I don’t think I’m brave enough to be the guinea pig. You test it out and tell me if it’s safe,” I urge, batting my lashes at him, and he picks up another chip, touches just the edge into the salsa, and then places it against his tongue.

“It’s good,” he mutters.

Laughing at him, I pick up my own chip, scoop up some salsa, and take a bite. It’s good, better than good. It’s delicious… or I’m starving. Whatever the case may be, by the time our waiter comes back for our orders, I’ve eaten almost all the chips and salsa.

“Do you know what you’d like to eat?” he asks.

“The salmon taco salad and another water please,” I reply, and he nods then looks at Sage.

“Another beer, the biggest burrito you’ve got on the menu, and a side of guacamole,” Sage orders, and the waiter nods before walking off. “So what’s going on with the shop? Have you and Ellie had a chance to discuss it again?” he asks me.

I pick up another chip and dunk it in the salsa, but then drop it into the basket. I don’t want to ruin my dinner, but at the rate I’m going, it’s liable to happen. “We have a meeting at the bank on Monday to see about the loan. Frankie is asking two hundred and fifty thousand for the salon, and that price includes everything—the chairs and supplies—already there. It’s a good deal. We just have to make sure we can get the loan, along with the extra money we need to do the renovations we want.”