There was a glint in them and I knew he was about to commence teasing.

"You done with my ass?" he asked.

"For now," I answered.

The grooves deepened around his mouth.

"My dick?"

My eyes rolled up and went side to side, searching the ceiling.

He pressed his hips into mine.

I looked back at him. "Maybe."

"She wants more," he muttered.

"Are you tired, old man?" I asked.

"Fuck no," he answered.

"So, your woman isn't done with you playing with her."

"That woman's gonna be the death of me."

"It's you who makes it so hot I want more," I accused.

"It's you grindin' your cunt in my face as you moan then tippin' your ass and takin' it hard while you whimper. And it's you pressin' your tits in my back while you pant in my neck and jack my ass and dick, Cassie. So it's arguable who makes it hot. But I'm not gonna argue about it. If you wanna look at it that way, not gonna stop you."

I grinned at him.

He moved us and fell forward, settling me on my back in the bed with him on me.

He nuzzled and stroked me for a while. I let him for that while and returned the favor.

Finally, his lips went to my ear.

"You want vanilla, you want me to go down on you again, or does my Cassie want her ass spanked?"

My limbs around him convulsed when he said the word "spanked."

I felt his smile against my neck before he murmured, "Red ass," while his hand shoved under me and cupped it. "You want that plugged?"

"Yes, baby," I whispered.

"Okay, Cassie. His for hers. You take out mine, I'll go get yours."

I held fast. "I changed my mind."

"No spanking?"

I lifted my head, shifted it, and said in his ear, "Will you work me full?"

"She's not done with my ass," he muttered.

I dropped my head to the pillow and caught his eyes. "You don't have to-"

"Baby, you want it?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Then you get it."

"But-"

"Did I give you any indication I didn't like what you just gave me?"

He absolutely didn't.

"No."

"We make a deal. I work you full, spank your plugged ass, after I give it to you, you suck me while you fuck me and I eat you, givin' it to you again while you give it to me. That work for you?"

I writhed underneath him.

His lips twitched. "It works for you."

"Yeah, honey."

He rolled, kissed my hip, and exited the bed to get my toy.

Some time later, I got a red ass and two more orgasms.

Deacon didn't get the former, but he got one of the latter.

Only then was I done.

And Deacon, who, if he had it in him, gave me what I wanted (and he so had it in him), only then left the bed to let Bossy in (Priest had to sleep in his kennel, poor baby) and rejoin me there.

We nestled together and went to sleep while Bossy snored, lying on the floor on Deacon's side of the bed.

I sat in the Suburban watching Deacon saunter back from the building.

He got in and we both looked to the building.

We waited.

The receptionist came back. Through the windows, we saw her read the note. We heard her shout from where we were all the way across the street. Then we watched her run, arms in the air waving excitedly, back down the hallway.

That was when Deacon started the Suburban and sent her on her way.

"We should wait around and watch the celebration," I noted.

"Don't need to."

"It'd be cool to see."

"Sure it would, woman, still don't need to see it."

I turned my head to look back at the building getting smaller in the distance.

It was the fourth one we'd been to and the last one we were going to. Each one, if they had security, Deacon disabled it with his secret Deacon ways before we sat and watched it, waited until the front area was vacant, then he walked in with his bag and dropped it on the reception desk.

This building had a sign over it that said Sacred Heart Healing Center.

It was a non-profit drug rehabilitation center.

And moments ago, the receptionist hit her desk and found a bag filled with half a million dollars in cash and a note that said it was an anonymous gift given in the name of one who had surrendered.

He'd given away two million dollars to four charitable drug rehab clinics.

He was keeping the rest for a rainy day.

Did I say I loved my man?

I loved my man.

I heard it so I grinned, bent, grabbed the tray with my oven-gloved hand, pulled it out of the oven, and walked out of the kitchen, both Bossy and Priest at my heels.

I kept hold of the tray while I reached out and opened the door.

Bossy raced out in front of me. Priest followed, floppy ears bouncing, mostly galloping.

I strolled out, stopping at the top of the steps, looking down them to Deacon dismounting a shiny, black, totally kickass, vintage Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

He gave Bossy a rubdown, snatched up Priest, then came up the steps to me.

He nabbed a cookie from the tray even if it was still hot. And apparently, badasses didn't get their mouths burned on hot snickerdoodles since he popped it into his mouth and immediately started chewing.

"Looks nice," I noted about the bike after he swallowed hot cookie.

"Gettin' you an apron," he replied strangely.

"Sorry?"

"You in an apron, makin' me cookies."

I rolled my eyes.

When I rolled them back, he was grinning.

"Take off your jeans, top, bra, panties, keep the apron on, fuck you against the kitchen counter."

My legs started trembling.

That I could do.

"Though," he said reflectively, "might keep on the panties but pulled down around your thighs."

I glared. "Do you want me to drop these cookies I slaved over while I experience a spontaneous orgasm on the front porch?"

He grinned again. "Maybe."

I rolled my eyes again.

When I rolled them back, Deacon was leaned in to me.

"Want a ride?"

I didn't hesitate.

"Absolutely."

He leaned back. "Go get rid of the tray, woman."

I went and got rid of the tray.

Deacon went to put Priest in his kennel.

We left Bossy behind as I went back out with my man.

I swung up behind him on the back of his new bike, he revved it, and I felt quivers assault my nether regions.

We took off.

And life was sweet.

I sat on the steps of the gazebo facing the river, its riverbanks edged with a plethora of wildflowers.

So was the area round the gazebo.

The steps were also lined with pots of thriving flowering plants and trailing greenery, more boxes were hooked to all the railings containing the same.