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She reached down and caught one of my hands that was resting on her hip, nestling her tiny fingers in between mine.
My cock slowed its rough treatment of her body, but as it did, she yanked me down and said, “Keep going.”
As I allowed my body to cover hers, and my mouth to brush against her lips, her legs wrapped around my body and anchored in the flesh at the backs of my thighs. And she urged me on, so I gave her what she wanted. But I kept my hand in hers the entire time.
I also kissed her until she was breathless and begging for breath.
“Hayes,” she breathed. “Please.”
I used our connected hands to plant into the bed beside her head, while taking the other one and reaching for her hip, drawing her up slightly so that I could reach a different angle.
And I knew the moment that I found it. Her body jerked on the next inward thrust.
“God!” she gasped. “What…”
I pulled back out and thrust inside seconds later, slamming into her, again and again.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, her body rocked one last time. Her pussy clamped down hard onto my length, squeezing it so completely that I saw stars.
It was a good thing that she was coming, because I could no longer hold on.
I had to come.
I did come.
Watching her face distort with pleasure was all that I needed to follow her over.
Seconds later, after we were both spent, and I lay down over the top of her, unable to get up off of her, she started to giggle.
“What?” I asked curiously.
“I’m just thinking that you make me happy,” she said. “Now… we can order pizza. I’m hungry.”
I leaned up onto an elbow, still holding her hand tightly in mine, and shook my head.
“I swear,” I panted. “I can usually go longer than this. But there’s something about you that plays havoc with my control.”
She smiled against my chest, and I couldn’t stop from smoothing her hair back from her face so I could see more of it.
God, she made me feel things I hadn’t felt since I was a young kid with no worries to my name.
I reluctantly let her go and disentangled my fingers from hers.
As I got up out of the bed, I stripped the condom from my cock and said, “I do have to admit, maybe these condoms are a good thing. Not wearing one would mean that I came in about a quarter of that time.”
She snickered, leaning up and reaching for my t-shirt that was on the ground.
I hooked it with my toe and kicked it toward her, hitting her in the face.
She leaned back and removed it with a laugh, then slipped it on.
I walked to the bathroom, threw the condom away, and came back to her bending over the bed fixing the comforter so that the bed didn’t have that ‘just fucked in’ vibe to it.
“I’ve never met another human being that made their bed,” she said.
Instead of replying, I watched as the shirt rode up, exposing her pussy for a handful of seconds before falling back down.
It made my dick hard all over again.Chapter 14My dog and I talk shit about you.
-T-shirt
Hayes
“What kind of pizza?” I croaked. “And I make my bed because it’s a habit. My mother used to come unglued when I didn’t.”
“Pepperoni is fine. Or cheese. Or hamburger. Pretty much as long as it doesn’t have veggies on it, I’m good.” She stood up straight and turned, her eyes assessing. “You don’t talk about your mother much.”
I grimaced as I reached for my pants where I hoped my phone still was.
I’d kind of forgotten all about it for about thirty minutes there.
I wasn’t sure if it was in the truck still, or if it was here. But I’d start with the easy and work my way to the hard.
“My mom is not my favorite person,” I admitted. “Her and my dad divorced when I was thirteen or so. I chose Dad, and she resented that. I honestly don’t even talk to her except for the random holiday.”
There wasn’t a phone in my jeans, but just as I was about to head out to the truck, she picked up her pile of clothes and found it on the ground underneath of them.
Bending down to pick it up, she moved closer until her body was pressed to mine.
“I’d like to meet your dad,” she said softly.
My lips twitched. “I’d like you to meet him, too.” I paused. “But he’s in Kentucky right now. Him and his FBI friend, Bruno, travel around solving cases as they can. They only call them in when a case can’t be solved.”
“Bruno?” she asked. “That’s a different name.”
“It is,” I agreed as I opened my phone and pulled up my pizza app so I could order. “Bruno’s actually the reason we came to Texas at all after my parents divorced.”
