Sweet Gardener

One look and Lutro's a goner. He catches Tiffany Tatum washing her feet—dainty, bare, water running between her toes—and suddenly his plans for the evening go up in smoke. She hasn't even noticed he's watching yet, but the sight already kicks his pulse into a sprint. Before common sense can catch up, he's at her side. Lutro trails his tongue across her arch, sucks each toe as though he’s starving. Tiffany's surprised yelp turns into a giggle, then a gasp when he tugs her close, spreads her knees, and feasts like the last meal on earth is right between her legs. Tiny feet drumming on his back, wet heat on his tongue—everything crashes together in a hot, clumsy rush. Two heartbeats later the spark he felt turns into a full blaze, and neither of them bothers to put it out.