Walk Through Fire (Page 112)

She’d been fixed.

It had nothing to do with High. It had nothing to do with cats.

It had everything to do with Millie.

When she wanted something, she didn’t fuck around.

She’d been broken.

After putting her together, she’d been fragile.

Then she’d toughened up, sorted her shit, and got on with it.

So yeah.

He should have known it.

That was his girl.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Mom Jeans

High

FUCK.

Fuck.

“Babe,” he warned on a growl.

She kept at him with her mouth, body tucked between his legs, having woken him up to get to his dick. All he’d done was cock his knees, stay down, and get blown.

He wouldn’t know but evidence was clear, giving spectacular head was like riding a bike.

You didn’t forget. Not any of it.

Or at least his girl hadn’t forgotten.

“Millie,” he grunted. “Beautiful.”

She kept at him.

Which meant she was going to take him.

And she did when he blew. Through the phenomenal orgasm, he felt her tongue move on his cock when she swallowed and he felt the sucking strokes as she milked it all out of him.

Christ.

Outstanding.

When he came down, she was licking him, sucking him, cradling his balls. It wasn’t as good as the blowjob, but it was a close second.

“Bottoms off,” he ordered thickly, lifting his head to look down at her.

He felt a throb hit his dick when she kept licking and he saw through the early morning shadows as she lifted only her eyes to him.

Fuck, his girl got off on his cock.

He got up on his elbows.

“Bottoms off, Millie,” he repeated.

She wrapped her hand around his dick and lifted up. “Snooks, you don’t—”

“Off,” he demanded.

“But it’s okay for me to give—”

He pushed all the way up to sitting, forcing her to let him go and move up to her knees.

“Off,” he bit out.

She held his eyes but dropped to her hip in order to yank down her clingy, silky pajama bottoms. Taking her panties with them, she kicked them off.

They barely cleared her feet before High lay back, moving her with him, dragging her up his body and then some in a way she’d not mistake his intent.

So she helped, drawing up her knees to straddle his head.

But it was High that yanked her down, burying his face in her pussy.

She knew better than to protest.

He gave what he got or he gave better.

Nothing less.

So he gave what he got but he gave better, clamping her to him through her first orgasm and keeping at her until she trembled and whimpered through her second.

Only then did he drag her back down and reach for the covers to yank them over their bodies.

She was spent, he could tell with the amount of weight she gave him.

He didn’t give a fuck. He just held her to him and drew patterns on the upper swells of her ass.

He gave her time to get sorted before he announced, “That’s a fuckuva lot better than an alarm clock.”

She giggled.

While he savored a sound that he liked a fuckuva lot, they heard a soft thump at the side of the bed.

High tensed but Millie stretched away, reaching out to turn on the light. Then, bottom half still mostly on him, she collapsed her top half so some of it was on the bed, the rest of it was hanging over the side.

“Hey, babies. Hey, cuties. You trying to get up on the bed with me and Snook’ums?” she cooed.

High rolled, curving into her as well as looming over her.

Poem was sitting by the wall close to the door to the bedroom, staring at them.

Chief was close to the bed, backing away from Millie.

The night before, neither kitten had done much but hide and sleep. Millie got them to the litter box she’d set up in the small laundry room off the kitchen. She’d showed them their food and water. She’d wiggled some toys around them. But they were tuckered out from the drive and wary of their new surroundings, so mostly they hid under furniture and snoozed.

She’d wanted to collect the kittens and take them to bed with them.

High told her they’d survive the wilds of her fancy-ass house on their own.

She’d given in.

Now they were exploring.

She reached out a hand to Chief as the kitten blinked his big, baby blue eyes at her, then looked up and blinked at High.

“It’s okay, Chief. It’s good, sweetie pie. You’re welcome up here,” she promised.

Chief backed up, shifted to the side, looked to Millie and High, then backed up more, only to take his shot, run his hilarious kitty run, take a flying leap all too soon and not near high enough. He hit the side of the bed and hung there by his claws before he gave it up and fell to the floor.

He scampered out of the room.

Poem scampered out after him.

“I don’t know if that’s cute or sad,” Millie said, and High looked down at her to see her gazing after the cats.

“Babe, they’re eight weeks old. They’ll get big and strong enough to make it to the bed.”

She twisted her neck to look up at him. “I should get up. Make sure everything’s okay. Make sure they have food. Fresh water.”

“You should. But before you do that, you should kiss your man.” He landed a hand on the small of her back. “ ’Preciate the wakeup blowjob, baby. Feel free to do that any time the spirit moves you. But you leave this bed to start your day, you do it after I get your mouth another way.”

She grinned and turned her body under his, pushing up.

Her lips hit his as he wrapped both his arms around her and fell back, she fell on him and she gave him what he wanted.