Chapter 17
My shirt clung to the damp skin of my back as I kept her hand clasped in mine.
Anger flowed through me as we left the confines of the bar and I noticed the red, raised scratches on her left arm.
How dare that imbecile put his slimy hands on her, marring her beautiful skin?
The guilt I felt for failing to see her turmoil earlier warred with my need to stake my claim, and I had no clue what emotion would dominate.
We wove through the parking lot, moving quickly between cars in the dimly lit space. I had to get out of there. The noise was oppressive, the company abysmal, and the smell revolting. But beyond that, nothing mattered more than finishing our conversation away from prying eyes.
Scanning the area, I spotted her silver four-door parked a few spaces away from my truck, and sighed.
At least her car was in a fairly well-lit spot and close to a large streetlight.
Not that I wouldn’t mind the cover of darkness to continue our discussion, but I’d never risk her safety by not being fully aware of our surroundings.
The early November air had turned cooler.
Not enough to warrant long sleeves, but enough to halt the bead of sweat that had formed on my temple.
Summer glowed in the soft moonlight, giving her skin a snowy hue and highlighting the amber undertones in her hair.
I sighed, wishing I had a jacket for her, but also loving the way her dewy skin looked.
When we reached her car, she let go of my hand and turned, leaning against the driver’s side door. I glanced down, shoving my hands in my front pockets and following the movement, noticing how high her sandals were.
Talk about fuck-me shoes.
Had I noticed how much taller she was tonight?
How could I have seen that when I was so consumed with how well her shirt hugged her tits and how her bright smile lit up the space?
From the moment I spotted her sitting with her new friends, her arms dancing in the air as she talked, and two pink blotches of color on her cheeks, I knew she’d fucked my carefully created facade four ways to Friday.
I stared at her, continuing my internal debate, to find her eyes on mine.
Her breaths were heavy, matching my racing heart.
Tracing the contours of her face with my gaze, her thoughts were open, clear and honest, making me want to pull her close and admit that, yes, feelings had changed.
That she’d become my every waking thought and every restless dream.
That my life had been pathetically empty until she crashed into it with her snark and curves.
That I ached keeping her at arm’s length—at denying myself the simple pleasure of being happy.
“Those shoes were worth it,” I murmured, remembering how much Autumn had liked it when I complimented what she wore. And there was no ignoring how the chunky platform wedges Summer had on did things to her legs that made my cock twitch.
“Oh, thanks,” she said, her hair falling around her face as she looked down.
I focused on her pretty pink toes, suppressing the urge to place my finger under her chin, tilt her head higher, and brush those loose locks away.
Instead, like a coward, I waited for her to say something else.
But she stayed quiet, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth.
I sucked in a breath, enveloped in her scent and following the movement, loving how red and swollen her lips were. From me.
“Summer—”
Her name had barely left my mouth before her small hands darted out and grasped my shirt with surprising strength.
My eyes widened, and I stumbled as she fisted the material and pulled me closer before surging to her tiptoes and pressing her mouth to mine.
I froze, my hands dangling limply at my sides as those cherry-stained lips moved over me with ferocity.
When I neglected to respond, too surprised by her very welcomed assault, I felt her falter and begin to pull away.
But before she could, something inside me broke open, and every pent up thought I’d had of her spilled out into the night.
I grabbed her waist and forced her backward until her body rested against her car.
Flush against her, I took control of the kiss with a desperation that made my stumbling attempts in that darkened hallway seem like a middle-schooler’s infatuation.
Hesitant at first, with barely controlled strength, a thread was all that remained of my sanity. Until her hips rolled against mine, and the deep-seated urgency I felt grew infinitely bolder. Countless years of suppressing my desires crumbled beneath her touch.
One hand tangled into her shoulder-length hair, now unruly from dancing and my ministrations, while the other gripped the roof of her car, grounding me. As I leaned further into her, pinning her against the cool steel, I finally allowed myself to kiss her with full, unrestrained devotion.
The whimpering, pleased sound she made went straight to my cock, my body welling up like I’d been stuck in a drought for years.
And as she touched me, running her fingers along my forearms, a river of pure happiness flowed over my head and down my body, filling every empty crack and crevice with her.
Euphoria—but even that seemed inadequate to describe the feelings coursing through my veins like wildfire. With one caress of her lips, it was as if Summer’s touch strived to make me better.
All the time I’d spent dwelling on memories of Autumn had left me in agony—for years. The guilt had festered like an open wound. Never healing. Only causing pain.
But here, in the arms of another woman—a thing I’d never planned to do—I was happy.
Feeling such a mundane emotion, how could I trust this was real? And if this was happiness, what had I suffered before?
Guilt? Certainly.
Obsession?
Obligation?
Unwavering loneliness?
My tongue swiped against the seam of her lips, demanding access, and when she granted it, she gasped. I was ravenous with need, but also apprehensive about the depth of my feelings.
Unlike my trepidation, Summer was fearless.
Unrestrained. Her hands roamed my chest and arms. A bubble of self-consciousness surfaced—I kept active enough, but I’d passed forty, and my body showed signs of that.
If it bothered Summer, she didn’t give her thoughts away, and I relaxed even more, allowing my fingers to explore the curves of her body.
A thrill shot through me as she clutched my arms, pulling me closer, and my breaths grew heavy and ragged as the heat radiating from her body seeped into my skin. I felt my dick harden the longer we moved together, aware I’d begun to thrust against her to get relief from the ache.
Her nimble fingers moved from my arms and slid down my chest as my kisses grew more insistent. The sounds she made for me were obscene, and I longed to get her away from this dim, gravel parking lot and into my bed.
Fuck. My bed. I wanted her in my bed like an addict wanted his next hit, and I groaned as I slid my hand from her hair to cup her jaw, tilting her head so I could further deepen our kiss.
The hand gripping her waist wandered to her stomach and slid against her skin, slowly inching upward until my fingers traced the underside of her breast.
The gasp that escaped her throat had me pulling back and tilting her head higher to meet my eyes.
“Is this okay?” I asked, as my fingers lingered against her smooth skin.
If she would just give me a little more, I’d give her everything.
“Oh yes, Maverick,” she whimpered, pressing her breast into my waiting palm.
Tracing the thin, lacy material, I circled her nipple with my fingertips until it hardened under my caress. Using my body to shield hers from any nosy patrons leaving the bar, I moved back to inch her shirt higher, exposing her dark lacy bra with its teasing little front clasp.
“Been dreaming about these tits since I saw you in the shower. Can I touch them? Worship them?”
Her warm breath puffed against my face as she leaned closer, peppering my neck with tiny nips and flicks of her tongue. When she reached my ear, she stood taller and drew the lobe into her mouth, sucking the sensitive flesh.
“Touch me,” she breathed, leaning against her car and moving her hands to her chest to unclasp her bra, revealing herself to me.
My mouth opened, desperate for a taste. “I’ll do more than that, woman.”
Before she could respond, I dipped my head to her chest and enveloped her nipple, flicking the bud with my tongue as my hand kneaded her other breast. Summer gripped my hair like it was her lifeline, and the flash of pain only drew me further into her web.
She tasted divine, and I pulled away to grasp both breasts, pressing them together and then burying my face between them to feast.
Perhaps that wasn’t so far off. Maybe I was starved for affection. Starved for touch. Starved for her.
Summer’s warmth was enticing, and I let go, moving my mouth to the other breast and drawing that rosy nipple between my teeth. This was just a prequel—an invitation to explore more—and I wanted to taste every inch.
Releasing her nipple with a pop, I fisted her hair, pulling her head back so I could latch onto her pulse point. I sucked hard enough to leave a bruise. I needed the world to see what this woman had done to me.
When her pathetic ex showed back up to her place unannounced, he needed to see that a real man had claimed her. A man who would never make her cry. Who would only leave marks of pleasure on her body.
The obsessive way my brain wrapped around Summer had me reeling, but the feeling of her body pressed to mine kept out any thoughts of stopping the madness that had consumed me.
“Want you in my bed, at my mercy, I want to see if you taste this good everywhere. Would you like that? On your knees for me, begging for more and taking everything I give?”