Page 197 of Shade
Let’s think back to last night. Actually, hold that thought. Do you remember what he said to me the first night in Seattle?
Stop.
I’m fucked up. I won’t remember.
Goddamn it.
Turn around.
Put your legs up. Now.
Move.
Get off me.
Leave your number. I’ll call the next time I’m in town.
What about last night?
Actually, there are only three words that matter.
Did you hear him say he loved me?
I did. Those are the ones that matter as I grip addicted hands at the tops of my thighs, curling into flexing muscles.
We’re on our sides, his face is turned in against my cheek, hidden behind helpless sex-roused curls. His words are next, desire within them, swallowing me up. “I dreamed of sucking on your clit ring.”
Do you have a tingle in the pit of your stomach and shiver like me? He has a way with words and knows how to deliver them, doesn’t he?
I slide my hands from his, lower to between his legs, to his cock. I grip and slide, squeeze until he moans, and flexes into my palm. My thumb brushes the underside and the barbell piercing his hard cock. “So this is what it’s like to wake up next to you after sex.”
He slides a hand over my breasts, the other one I’m lying on squeezes my ass cheek firmly. “Is it everything you thought it would be?”
“It’s more.”
“Goddamn.” His voice is quiet, words hotter than the sun on my face. “How’d I get so lucky?” he asks.
He’s not expecting an answer. Or maybe he is, but I don’t give him much of one, aside from a smile. Lifting his left hand to my stomach, his featherlight brush of his knuckles against my heated skin sends shivers through me.
We move, twist, his body hovers over mine, supported by his strong, steady arms. California morning sun baths his inked skin as he leans in slowly and with a gentleness I’ve never seen from him before, placing a kiss on my lips.
Raising my hands, they ghost over his hard shoulders to the back of his neck and the puffy skin of his scar.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to wrap my arms around you like this, and know that no one else will ever hold you like this again.” My breath catches with the words as the sun flickers and warms my face. “I’ll kill any man who touches you,” he warns, and it’s teasing against my lips. At least I don’t think he’s serious. He’s an unstable motherfucker sometimes, but not now. He’s a lover. “I might never let go.”
“I’m kinda hoping you don’t.”
Slowly his hands moved downward, skimming the length of my body. His fingertips graze my center, the touch exactly what I need. My lashes drop, sweet bliss rushing through me.
The low gravel of his voice brings me back as he enters me again. This time it’s slower. “I missed you. . . .” His eyes hold mine.
Do you think you can tell how much a man loves you by the way he moans into your skin as he enters you?
I’m going to go ahead and say yes on this one.
“We just had sex an hour ago,” I smile, whispering the words, watching his eyes.
His hands explore my upper thighs and then back to my hips, his lips finding mine, reclaiming what’s his.
