“It’s only been twenty-four hours,” he murmured against my mouth. “Why does it feel like it’s been a year?”
He slid his hand between my legs. My knees quivered. A needful heaviness settled in my breasts and low in my belly.He stroked my clit and ran his fingertip across my slit, and I could only answer with a moan.
I pushed his shorts down over his hips, desperate to have him naked and buried inside me. He stilled my hand and reached into a pocket, pulling out a condom. “My contribution to the party.” He pushed his shorts to the floor and kicked them away.
“I don’t think that’s your only contribution.” I palmed him and pumped him the way I’d imagined him doing to himself.
He sucked in his breath. He wrapped his hand around mine, and we squeezed his shaft together, drawing a long, low keening from him. He removed my hand and tore open the condom. I traced my finger through the drop of pre-cum on his tip and wriggled in anticipation. He moved slowly, so frustratingly unrushed.
“Don’t keep a lady waiting.” I bit my lower lip.
He groaned and slipped on the condom, then grasped my hips and spun me around. I placed my palms flat on the door. I parted my legs and arched my back, lifting toward him. Enticing him. Begging him.
He plowed deep into me, stretching and filling me, running his shaft along every nerve ending of my G-spot.
“Is this what you need?” he whispered, palming my breasts and rocking hard into me.
“Oh, yeah.” I panted. “Definitely a good start.”
“Pace yourself, Sav.”
I arched harder and drove back against him, defying his command. “Why?”
“Because when I’m finished fucking you here, I’m going to have you on the bed, on your hands and knees. And after that…”
He bit into the sensitive juncture between my neck and shoulder, shooting a wave of white-hot pleasure through my body, to my tits, my clit, my core.
“After that,” he murmured as he plunged into me deepand hard, pushing me higher and higher on the wave, “you’re going to put on those sexy blue shoes, and we’re going to start all over again.”
16
BEN
Islowly rolled out of Savannah’s bed and stood beside her for a moment, watching her. I stretched, trying to ease muscles that usually never got sore. Remembering how I’d earned every sweet ache made me hard. I wanted to climb under the covers and accrue some more, but Savannah was sleeping so peacefully, and she needed the rest. We’d fucked each other senseless and to the point of exhaustion. After that, for the second night in a row, we’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
Friends with benefits, my ass. Even my year-long relationship hadn’t included such intimacy. Sleepovers, sure. But those nights had ended in side-by-side sleep, not all-night cuddling.
But I would refer to whatever this was any way she wanted. And when it was over, because of course it couldn’t last—permanency wasn’t in my DNA—I would get the hell over it and move on, knowing that at least this time, her heart hadn’t gone along down with mine.
Back in my own room, I shaved, showered, and dressed in a pair of fatigues, an Army-green T-shirt, and running shoes. I didn’t know what HEAT training entailed, but I hoped it was something physical. I needed some serious weight trainingand a good long run to work out the kinks in my muscles and siphon off some of the excess adrenaline that pumped through my veins from being this close to Sav.
I replayed round three from last night, which had included those blue high heels, while I trotted down the steps and turned into the kitchen. Wheeler and Bloom sat at opposite ends of a table that could easily seat eight. They were both staring down at their phones when I entered. Wheeler glanced at me, then leaned back in his seat and gave me a shit-eating grin.
Whatever he was about to say, I knew I wouldn’t like it.
He let out a long whistle. “Looks like someone got ridden hard and put away wet last night.”
I stopped in my tracks and glanced between him and Bloom, who was also now looking at me. I could laugh it off, deny it like Wheeler was an idiot, turn the attention back on him about… Christ, anything, maybe starting with his highlighted hair. But Savannah and I hadn’t discussed the party line on our friends-with-benefits arrangement, so I deflected.
“No idea what you’re talking about, asshole.”
“My God, you’re right.” Bloom grinned at Wheeler. “I guess we’ll have to stop calling her the one who got away and start calling her the one who got itgood.”
“I think you’re assuming facts not in evidence, mate,” Wheeler said with a laugh.
“Piss off.” I smiled cheerily as I said it because at the end of the day, I’d spent the night in Savannah’s bed and they’d both slept alone. Then, to put a fine point on the conversation being closed, I asked, “What’s the food situation in this place?”
“Cupboards and fridge are stocked, and everything’s up for grabs.” Bloom pointed to scrambled eggs and bacon on a griddle on the stove. “Still warm. Help yourself. Courtesy of Pasco.”
