Chapter 17 #3
“But I’m not mad anymore. At least not about getting fired,” she says, swaying close enough that it makes my eyes cross. By the time she sways back, she’s adding in a husky whisper, “I’m mad that Fate is such a bitch.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Fate is a bitch.”
She nods, her palms settling on my chest with a familiarity that feels way too fucking right.
And way too electric for this to be goodbye.
“I didn’t want to catch feelings, I really didn’t.
” Her gaze drops to my mouth, making my throat tighten.
“But I’ll be honest, the thought of never seeing you again makes me crazy. ”
“Yeah?” I force out, still afraid to hope.
“Yeah,” she confirms. “And the thought of going one more night without feeling you inside me makes me even crazier.”
And that’s it.
That’s the moment all my best intentions go up in smoke.
I pull her against me, and she meets me halfway, her hands diving into my hair as she kisses me with a moan that finishes the job of getting me fully hard.
Fully, furiously, recklessly hard.
So hard I groan in sweet agony as her hips grind forward.
Our mouths slide together, hungry and messy, breath coming faster, teeth bumping, neither of us giving a shit. Her tongue dances with mine, stroking and summoning, promising the wait is over, that tonight we’re not stopping until I’m balls deep in every hot, pulsing inch of her.
The realization sends a jolt of need shooting down my spine that’s so intense, it’s all I can do not to roll her to the grass and take her right here in the yard. In full view of the girls, or Clover’s boy toy, should any of them decide to take a peek out the window.
“Inside,” I growl as I nip her jaw, her throat. “Need these clothes off. Now.”
“Yes, but not my place,” she pants, arching into me. “My friend is up there.”
“Your friend?” I demand, my skepticism clear in my tone.
She smiles as she kisses me again, promising he’s just a friend with her lips, her tongue before she breathes, “Yes, my friend. Who’s working on something and can’t be disturbed.” We stumble closer to the back porch, hands roaming, clutching. “What about your bedroom?”
“Can’t.” I grip her ass with both hands through her pajama pants. “Bella came downstairs twice before she settled down. If she comes down again, she’s going straight to my room.”
Clover groans, a suffering, frustrated sound that echoes through every cell in my equally tormented body.
Her fingers fist in my hair, pulling hard enough to make my pulse kick in my throat.
I chase her lips, follow when she tilts her head, fuck her mouth with my tongue, a silent promise that I’m going to make this worth the wait.
Even if we have to wait until her friend is gone.
I’m about to ask when she expects him to go—and to offer to escort him down to his car personally, ASAP—when she pulls back, breathing hard as she hisses, “The shed? Maybe the shed? I saw a sunbed in there the other day when I was—”
I cut her off with another kiss as I reach for her thighs, urging them up and around my waist. Once she’s in my arms, I aim us both across the lawn at a dead sprint. She laughs as my speed jostles her lips from mine, but the second I set her on her feet by the shed door, neither of us is laughing.
We’re too busy diving hands under each other’s clothes, desperate to eliminate the barriers between us.
My hand skims up her pajama top to cup her bare breast, her nails drag down my back beneath my sweatshirt, and then we’re pushing through the doorway.
It bangs open, cracking against the wall before slamming back to hit my elbow, but I barely feel it.
I’m too focused on dragging Clover in after me and shutting the door behind us.
When I turn back to her, she grips my shoulders and pulls, sending us both tumbling onto the dusty cushion in the corner. The sunbed groans under our weight, dust puffing around us, but neither of us seems to care.
I certainly don’t.
Fuck dust. Fuck this musty-smelling cushion. Nothing so minor as dust or mold could lessen the magic of this moment.
Of my mouth on hers as I roll her under me, her legs locking around my waist. Of the way she lifts her arms, making it easier for me to rip her pajama top over her head, granting me my first clear view of Clover half-naked.
And fuck…
Thank fuck for the moonlight streaming through the shed window.
Thank fuck for the heat in her eyes as she reaches up to grip my arms, and exhales in a rush, “I have an IUD, and negative, so we don’t have to worry about protection.”
A ragged sound emerges from my throat.
I’m already half out of my mind at the thought of being inside her bare, and then she adds in a husky whisper, “So, don’t you dare pull out, okay? I want to feel you come inside me. I’ve been dreaming about it every night. Every fucking night.”
As she pulls me into another desperate kiss, I lose time, lose control, lose the plot. I lose everything, but the burning need to give her exactly what she wants.
To make sure my first time inside her has my woman coming and coming and coming back for more.