Chapter 12 #2
I caught her mouth with mine, swallowing her little gasp of surprise. Her lips parted obediently under mine, and I took full advantage, deepening the kiss until we were both breathing hard.
This was what I’d been missing. Not just the physical contact, though God knew I’d been starving for that.
But the way she tasted. The way her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer even as she made a sound that could have been a protest or a sign of encouragement. With her, it had always been hard to tell the difference.
My mouth moved to her jaw, tracing the line of it down to her throat. She tilted her head back, giving me access, and I took it greedily. The pulse point beneath my lips hammered against my tongue. I scraped my teeth over it gently, just enough pressure to make her shiver.
“Teddy,” she breathed, my name coming out all broken and needy.
I hummed against her skin, working my way lower. She smelled like gingerbread and that expensive body oil she loved so damn much.
“Wait—we can’t—”
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her lips were swollen, pupils blown wide enough to eclipse the green. “Can’t what?”
“This.” She gestured vaguely between us, but her legs were still wrapped around my hips, holding me in place. “We can’t—it won’t fix anything. It never does. It just makes things more complicated.”
As much as I wanted to show her I was still the man who could take her on the nearest flat surface, who never once left her wanting, she wasn’t wrong.
Sex had been our go-to solution for every fight, every rough patch. A temporary fix that felt good in the moment but left us right back where we started once the high wore off. Sometimes worse off, because we’d relied on our bodies to say things we couldn’t manage with words.
This was new ground. Fragile. And whatever we were trying to rebuild, I sure as hell didn’t want to blitz it for a quick fuck in the kitchen.
“You’re right,” I said, tracing her hips through the flannel. “Can’t fall back into the same old patterns.”
Relief flickered across her face, followed immediately by something that looked a lot like disappointment. She started to push against my chest, already retreating into the careful distance she’d mastered over three decades of dealing with my shit.
I tightened my grip, keeping her right where she was. “But I’m not looking to fix anything right now, baby. Just wanna take the edge off for you.”
Her breath hitched. “What?”
I slid one hand up her thigh, feeling her muscles tense under my palm. “Been wound tight since you got here. Hell, probably for a lot longer than that. And I’m good at this part, remember? Making you feel good. Letting you let go for a minute.”
“Teddy—”
“Do you need to come for me, Kels?” I asked, my voice dropping lower. “Because I need to taste you again. Been dreaming about it for a long ass time.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she bit down on her lower lip hard enough to leave marks. When she opened them again, they were glazed with want. She nodded, just once, but it was enough.
I started working the buttons on the flannel, taking my time with each one.
Her breathing picked up with every inch of skin I revealed, her chest rising and falling faster.
No bra underneath, just smooth skin and a flush that spread down from her throat when she was turned on.
I’d mapped every variation of that flush over the years—knew exactly what shade meant she was close, what color meant she needed more.
This was somewhere in between. Interested but not desperate yet. I could work with that.
I undid the last button and pushed it off her shoulders, letting it pool behind her on the counter. Then I lowered my mouth to her collarbone, kissing my way across to her shoulder while my hands traced her sides.
I worked my way down to her perfect tits and greeted both nipples with my tongue, sucking one into my mouth while palming the other.
She arched into me, making soft sounds that went straight to my dick. I’d forgotten how responsive she was, how every touch seemed to light her up from the inside.
“That’s it,” I murmured, running my beard over the beaded pink tip. “Let me hear you, baby.”
I moved to her other breast, giving it the same thorough attention. Kelsey was curvier now than she’d been in the months leading up to the divorce. I preferred the softer version over the lean, muscular woman who couldn’t look me in the eye.
Her hips rolled forward, seeking friction, and I took another long, deep pull before releasing her breast with a soft pop.
I kissed my way down her stomach, feeling her muscles jump under my lips.
When I reached the island’s edge, I dropped to my knees on the hardwood, knowing I’d pay for it later but too far gone to care in the moment.
The view damn near stopped my heart. Kelsey propped up on her elbows, chest heaving, thighs spread wide, and those pretty green eyes locked on me like she was afraid I might disappear if she blinked.
“Jesus, Kels.” My voice came out rougher than I intended. “Look at you.”
She shifted, self-conscious, and started to close her legs, but I caught her knees and spread them wider instead.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I rasped, my mouth already watering at the sight of her pussy, bare and already glistening for me. “You’re fucking beautiful. Always have been.”
I pressed my lips to the inside of her thigh, smiling when her hips shifted restlessly against the counter.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please what, baby?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what she wanted. Needed to hear her say it.
She groaned in frustration. “You know what.”
“Say it.” I traced my fingers along the inside of her thigh, close enough to where she wanted me that she bucked against my hand. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need—” She broke off, her face flushing darker.
“Need what?” I prompted, pressing my thumb against her inner thigh. “Need my mouth? My fingers? Both? Talk to me.”
“Every—everything,” she managed, her throat bobbing in a hard swallow.
And fuck if it didn’t make me wanna pound my chest that she wanted this—wanted me, still, even after all the ways I’d let her down.
I flattened my hands on her hips and pulled her to the edge, close enough that I could lay her thighs over my shoulders before glancing back at the oven.
“Twelve minutes and—” I squinted, trying to make out the numbers on the timer without my glasses. “Twenty-nine seconds.”
She blinked down at me with a dazed expression. “For what?”
“For you to come for me. Not letting you up until you do, so if you don’t wanna burn the first batch…” I trailed off, grinning when her mouth twisted like she wanted to tell me to go fuck myself.
“You’d better get started,” she finished, her brows arching in challenge. “I imagine you’re a little out of—”
The rest of whatever she was going to say dissolved into a moan as I kissed my way up the soft skin of her inner thigh.
“Might have forgotten a few things as I’ve gotten older, sweetheart, but knowing how to make you come ain’t one of ‘em,” I growled before licking a slow stripe from the base of her slit straight up to her swollen clit.