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“Oh, my God, yes,” she hisses. She flies apart beneath me. I feel her pussy start to clamp down as she gushes for me, and I rise up, quickly thrusting back inside her with her calves resting on my shoulders.

I find a punishing rhythm, fast and hard, giving zero fucks to the racket we’re making with the headboard banging against the wall and both of us damn near grunting like animals. Through it all, we never lose eye contact.

We’re fucking, make no mistake that this is a rough, aggressive, nearly violent taking of each other’s body, but there’s more beneath the surface of the pleasure. Her eyes are deep and full of a future I let myself dream of, and I tell her with my own that I accept her, just as she is.

We find our climax together, her second pulling mine from my body as my spine jolts, my balls tense up, and my cock swells. The condom is between us physically, but there’s nothing between us emotionally as I hold her tight, coming down from the haze with panting breaths.

I lower her legs, turning us slightly so that my weight is on the bed, but stay inside her a little longer. Pushing her hair back from her face, I trace over the freckles on her cheek with a fingertip. “You are so fucking gorgeous, Erica. Outside” —I sweep the swoop of her nose— “and inside.” I press my lips to hers, willing her to taste the depth of what I’m feeling but unable to say it.

Her mouth opens to speak back, but a door closing downstairs makes both of us freeze in place.

“Who was that?” she whispers.

I look at her, telling her silently that’s a dumbass question because how would I know? I’ve been in here with her.

A moment later, my phone buzzes in my pants on the floor. I hate to do it, but I pull out of Erica, tossing the condom in the trash. I dig my phone out and see that I’ve got a text.

Mark: Sorry. Mama says she’ll set Erica a place for dinner.

My eyebrows must rise or I must grit my teeth. Something must give me away because Erica asks, “What’s it say? What’s wrong?”

I scratch at my lip, downplaying the awkwardness. “No big deal. Mama Louise says you’re expected at dinner.”

Erica blinks once, twice, three times before she sits bolt upright. “Are you serious? Mama Louise heard us fucking like rabbits and is all ‘golly gee, perhaps they’d like some dinner’?” She falls back to the bed, arms spread wide like an angel with a halo of messy, dark hair splayed out beneath her.

“Not exactly. The text is from Mark, so it seems like it was both of them.”

Her hands go over her face, but I hear the mumbled reply. “Of course it was.” A slow beat later, she clarifies, “Only the two of them?”

I shrug even though she’s not looking at me. When she peeks one eye open, I smirk. “Silver lining? Mark knows I’m not working today. This morning, because I was hungover. Now, because you’re here.”

I approach the bed with every filthy idea I’ve ever had about having a woman in my bed written all over my face. Erica’s embarrassment morphs before my very eyes, her blush turning into a flush and her hands falling to the bed as her legs writhe. “Well, if they already know, guess there’s no harm in hiding out a little longer.”

“Woman after my own heart.” I quote the expression without thinking, but the truth of it is, she’s already got it.

She stalls my prowling with a single finger held up. “Go lock the damn door or I’ll be nervous the whole time.”

I huff like I’m annoyed by her request, but it’s a good idea. None of us are in the habit of having guests over so there’s no real family protocol for that. Not that I want to think about it, but I wonder how in the hell I’ve never noticed Brutal and Allyson fucking. They live in this house with me, Bobby, and Cooper, yet I’ve never heard a peep. I should probably pick his brain for some tricks on Mission: Impossible, Quiet Sex Edition.

“Fine. You stay there, though. Hand, hand, foot, foot.” I point at each corner of my bed, knowing she can’t reach the bed edges, teasing her to spread eagle while I’m gone.

Naked as the day I was born, I make a run for the front door and then the back door, locking them both. Hustling back up the stairs, I take them two at a time, honestly curious whether Erica will be laid out the way I said to. Hell, knowing her, she’ll be sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed just to be ornery and noncompliant and keep me guessing.

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