CHAPTER SIX #2
Her eyes flutter closed, and she turns her head away before saying, “I don’t. I can’t… climax from only penetration.” Her cheeks flush a deep red. She’s embarrassed, and that won’t fucking do. Not from this woman—this fiery, impossible, confident-to-a-fault woman.
I grip her hips and thrust up, grinding against her so the space between us is nonexistent. She gasps and her eyes fly open when I repeat the motion, hitting her deep.
“That wasn’t a challenge.” She punctuates the statement with a glare. “It’s just the truth, so go ahead and finish.”
I’m guessing she hasn’t had men take it as a challenge before. Or they have and lost, and then blamed her for it. Been too prideful to use other means, confident their dicks could do the job.
Yeah, that’s not happening here.
“I know it wasn’t, but I’m also not going to leave you hanging while I get off.
That’s not what we came in here for, Leanne.
” I rock up against her and she moans—a real one this time—her eyes never straying from mine.
“So, I want that hand of yours. Now.” I lift my own, fluttering my fingers in invitation, until she slips hers into it.
“You’re going to show me how you like to be touched here”—I slide our fingers between us, right above where we’re joined—“while I fuck you here.” I thrust again, and she cries out.
“Shhh.” I lift my other hand and press the pads of my fingers to her lips. “You wouldn’t want everyone to hear, now would you?”
She shakes her head then nips at my fingers, and I pull them away. She begins to move her hand in slow circles under mine. Watching her like this makes me even harder, and the way she tightens around me has me seeing stars.
Bears. Think about bears, Bryce. Or tractors. Anything.
Leanne’s breaths turn erratic, and I open my eyes to watch where she has hers shut tight.
She whimpers quietly and brings her other hand up to cover her moans as her head tips back.
I start moving at a faster rhythm beneath her, in time with the motion of her fingers.
She’s close now; I can feel it, and damn do I want it.
I want to give her this, see her take exactly what she needs.
She shudders and her eyes pop open.
“I’m, oh, Bryce. I’m…” She trails off and her body tightens like a bowstring. Her thighs shake where they bracket my hips as I drive into her again and again. She bites down on the flesh of her hand to stop herself from screaming as her climax rolls through her in waves of pleasure and sensation.
When my name slips from her lips as she tips over the edge, I clench my jaw so hard I hear it crack.
Her hand falls slack, and I know she’s spent, but I’m not quite done yet. Gripping her by both thighs, I lift so I have better leverage to slam into her.
“Jesus, Leanne,” I grunt out, and with one final thrust, I still, fingertips digging into her legs as I come harder than I have in my entire life.
She collapses forward against my chest, and her body rises and falls in tandem with each breath I try to catch. The soft music from up the hill mixes with the sound of the creek down past the other tents—a perfect symphony for this moment.
She lifts herself and rolls to her side, attempting to hide her wince as she does.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask.
“No, but I might be walking a little funny tomorrow.” She blushes, and a small smile tilts her lips. It completely transforms her face, and I realize every smile I’ve seen before has been part of her shield—a facade, not real—and I want so badly to understand why she’s hiding.
“Maybe tell everyone you went for an early morning ride or something,” I offer, and she laughs—a bright and relaxed sound. It’s a gift she hasn’t graced me with before, and I wish I could hear it again. But I know I probably won’t.
“Excuse me!” she objects, feigning outrage as she pushes at my chest. Her fingertips on my bare skin burn in the best way.
I bark a laugh in return, relaxing into the mattress. “I meant a horseback ride. That would explain the walking funny.”
She clicks her tongue. “I guess riding a cowboy isn’t all that different, huh?”
“I think it probably depends on the cowboy.” I wink at her, leaning into this playful moment.
My rapid heartbeat slows as she nestles against my side, resting her head on my chest. She runs her fingers along my forearm, tracing each line of ink. I like her like this. Quiet, almost content. I might like her sass too, now that I’m sure there’s more to it than her hating me for no reason.
She sighs heavily, and her eyes squeeze shut.
“You okay?” I ask, trailing a finger across her shoulder. A newfound concern for her wars with my fear that she’ll eviscerate me for even voicing the question.
“I’m fine… And you’re supposed to be discreet.” She pulls her hand away from my arm, but I grab it and hold tight.
“I am, but I also want to be sure I don’t need to be on the lookout for someone turning up uninvited tomorrow.”
She braces, and when I lift my head, she averts her gaze. “I don’t think he’ll show up.”
“Your ex.” It’s not a question—I deduced enough from their conversation.
“Yeah.” She blows out a breath and then nuzzles back in, her nose grazing my nipple and sending a jolt of desire through me, but then she keeps talking and all my focus is back on her. “He ended our engagement the same day Eric proposed to Jenna.”
Her voice is calm, level. Her guard back in place. She does that so easily… I hate it.
“I’m sorry,” I say, coasting my hand down her back, over each vertebra, and back up again. I can’t imagine having to pair the disappointment of her own broken engagement with excitement over her sister’s.
The reason she wants this weekend over finally clicks into place.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says flatly.
“Leanne…”
Does she really believe that? That her pain doesn’t matter?
“Don’t,” she whispers hotly. “I don’t want your pity. I don’t even know why I told you any of that.” She rolls on top of me, and before I can reply—before I can tell her I don’t pity her, I just feel for her—she’s reaching between us and driving any thought of further conversation from my mind.
“Don’t think this means I like you,” she taunts between gasping breaths as she slides onto me, but I see it for what it is. She’s protecting herself in the only way she knows how.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, blondie,” I say, pressing up so we’re flush before pulling her in for a searing kiss.
I burn for her, and she burns for me… and together we could set this tent ablaze.
I fall asleep wishing I could stay tangled up with her like this forever, and that’s something I told myself I’d never wish for again.
When the sun rises the next morning, it takes with it the afterglow from the night before.
I’m alone, white sheets strewn over my naked legs, and other than the smell of Leanne’s perfume on the pillow beside me, it’s as if she were never here at all.