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Under The Bus is part of the Five Families Vineyard Romances

This little sexual interlude takes place in the Stafýlia Cellars vineyards among the vines. Stafýlia is Tabi Aganos’ family winery. And a ‘block’ just means a section of grapes in a vineyard. This is from near the end of Under The Bus, just before Tabi has to meet with someone in LA to unwind the end of the book. Ultimately, I cut it since it was another cute scene but didn’t move any plot along. But I adore their banter and heat.



TABI: I’m out in block 43.

BAX: So? I’m in the office.



TABI: Dude. Block 43.

BAX: Is that what we’re doing now? Just repeating where we are?

TABI: OMG. College. Winter break. Think hard.

BAX: Block 43! OMW


BAX: I’m here and I have a blanket. Where are you?

TABI: You’re not here.

BAX: I am.

TABI: You’re in the fucking Syrah blocks. And I’m three blocks to the left in the Zinfandel. Get your shit together, Schroeder.


TABI: This is starting to not be sexy.

BAX: Then lick your fingers and pinch my clit for me. I’ll be right there.

TABI: Ok. That’s better. I’ll just play with myself until you get here. But not sure I can stop, so tick-tock if you want to see me scream.

BAX: You’ll wait.

TABI: Why?

BAX: Because I told you to.

TABI: True dat. Hurry!  


The blanket barely touches the ground before he whips off his shirt. I rake my fingers down his chest and enjoy the hard, sexy angles of this man. So respectable and upstanding to the rest of the world and a fucking hilarious, sexy machine to me. I can see him tent his khakis, and I lick my lips.

This was the first place he found me when I ran away when we were ten. It’s also the place we’d retreat during that special winter break when the families invaded our space so we could scream loudly and screw freely. At the time, we used to have a little gardening hut out here. My mom kept a cutting garden on the edge of the block. But that’s been torn down, so the blanket is a welcome addition to this ala fresco fucking.

His lips take mine in the familiar way that is hot and insane, and I fucking love him. I love him, and I get to have him. Or at least that’s what he keeps telling me.

“Fuck. How are you this hot in overalls?”

“It’s a gift.” He unhooks the straps of my engineer, stripped Osh Kosh B’Goshes, and they puddle at my feet. I’m wearing boy shorts, work boots and a cropped white tank, and that’s all. His hands skim over my breasts which are instantly pebbled for him as he takes in the sight of me. 

“You were working out here in this? With your perfect tits just flopping around, ready to tempt people into doing very bad things so they can get a glimpse.” He says this while pinching my hard nipples. 

"Like rob a liquor store?" He's on my neck and mutters in between kissing and nipping me. 

"Yes, people are constantly holding up liquor stores to see your tits." 

"They are that good." He growls into my neck. “No one was around.”

He pulls my hips to him, and I feel his hard length. “And I’m not sure you understand. This is mine, and I don’t want the world to share in this.”

I lick his nose. “That was hot and possessive. But you do know I’m not going to change my wardrobe.”

Bax’s blue eyes are dark, and I love that tic in his jaw when he wants me so badly he can’t stand it. He shoves his hand into my black boy shorts and cups me. “Say it.”

His thumb pushes up to find my slit. Then he pushes a finger slightly inside of me and takes my lips again. He’s thrashing his mouth against mine, and I’m captive. I can’t move, or he’ll remove his finger, and he won’t go any deeper, no matter how I roll my hips. I can’t get enough pressure, and he won’t enter me. Driving me mad.

“Deeper Bax.” I moan on his lips as his tongue thrusts into my mouth, claiming me once more.

“Say it.” He circles my entrance with the pad of his finger as I clutch at his forearm. I try to shove his hand deeper, but he’s so strong, holding it exactly where he wants it. He nips at my lip as he gathers moisture and swipes it over my clit quickly like he’s running a yellow light. A slight pause, and then he’s gone. I whimper and moan as his index finger returns to outlining me and skimming in and out of me ever so slightly.


“Please.” I beg as he kisses my neck and my collarbone, and I’m helpless.

He tugs my earlobe between his teeth and pulls as I inhale sharply. “Say it.”

I relent. “I’m yours.”

And he plunges his finger deep inside of me as I moan loudly, closing my eyes and throwing my head back. “Now you get to come.”  

And then he’s gone, but as I open my eyes to complain, he grins as he lays me down on the blanket. And my afternoon just got a whole lot better. 

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