“Me too,” I choke out.
She leans in, giving me little nips on my jaw. The bite to my earlobe just about launches me into space. “Ah, if you don’t want to take this any further tonight, then now would be a good time to stop,” I squeak out.
She drops her forehead to my shoulder, giggling. “Declan, remember those bases?”
“Um...yeah,” I croak.
“Let’s round a couple,” she whispers against my ear. She does a slow, rolling grind against my cock, and every single noble thought in my head leaks out of my ear.
“Wha—what base is this?”
“No idea. Would you like me to stop so we can discuss it?”
“No,” I yell, clutching her hips, pulling her harder against me. Her moan drives me higher, and I buck up into her. We haven’t removed a single piece of clothing. Her hands are around my neck, mine are at her hips, and already, this is by far the hottest moment of my life. How have I survived this long without this feeling? Maybe it’s good that I didn’t know how hot we’d be together...I would have lost my fucking mind over the last three years.
“Declan,” she moans against my throat, in between teasing bites, “harder.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, widening my legs, forcing her knees out further, giving me more room to move. I pull her down to me and start a matching roll. Judging by the long, low groan coming from her, I’m hitting just the right spot.
I read a lot. I absorb everything and retain it. An article I read in some waiting room once pops into my head. It was in some women’s magazine, and the author was complaining about how most men make the same mistake in bed. They find something their partner likes, but instead of sticking with that and making her come, they’ll stop and try other moves, leaving their woman unsatisfied.
So instead of changing up my movements, I double down, pushing my hips higher and pulling her down lower. She fights me, but a quick look at her face assures me she’s not hurting. No, she’s fighting to control the rhythm. But this is my fucking show. I may be a geek. I may struggle to find the right words. I may obsess over my hobbies. But I know how to make a woman scream my name.
Thank fuck, I’m not a virgin. Thank fuck I can please her. I keep her hips planted against me, the feel of her heat making me feral. She rears back, throwing back her head, hands planted on my shoulders as she mumbles. I don’t catch the words, but her meaning is clear. So I don’t stop, don’t falter, and she rewards me by falling apart.
Cara shuddering through her orgasm is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so fixated on her that my own release takes me by surprise, kicking out of me against my briefs. I throw my head back, gasping. Cara drops her mouth back to mine, and together we ride out our release.
“Holy fuck,” I mutter, breathing into her mouth. “I think I died.”
She giggles, and I pull her in and soak up her laughter.
“We have an early flight in the morning,” she mumbles against my neck.
“Yeah, we do.”
She gives me one more nip on my neck this time, then jumps out of my arms, laughing at my growl. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can sit together?” How can she move? How do her legs work? How does she look so energized? What the fuck is she talking about? The flight?
“You better not try to sit anywhere else.” I blow out a breath, wishing I could stay right here with her. I want her in my arms tonight. Every night. But the last thing she probably wants is me skulking down the hallway in the morning. I move to the door and psych myself up for the sprint down the hallway to my room. If the guys catching me before was bad, I don’t want to think about the jokes they’ll make when they see me running down the hall with cum stains on my jeans.
“Oh, remember, operation destroy Colt starts tomorrow. You ready?”
I give her a cheesy wink. “Woman, I was born ready. He won’t know what hit him.”
Her evil cackle echoes in my head as I run to my room. The woman is perfection.
Now all I have to do is not screw it up.
35
CARA
I see him coming long before he gets to me. He’s hurrying, giggling to himself, and it’s somehow both adorable and hot. “He’s coming!”
Declan skids to a stop in my office, then leans on the edge of my desk, attempting to look casual, crossing and uncrossing his arms. He’s going to give us away if he keeps this up. I slide my foot out of my stiletto and run my toes up his calf. His arms drop, and his eyes lock on my foot as it travels up his jeans.
“You gotta calm down. You’re the one that told me we’re playing the long game here. You’re going to give it away if you don’t chill.”
“Chill. Right. I can chill. Totally.” He doesn’t look up. He doesn’t take his eyes off my foot. I let my smile grow. The last few days have been frustrating yet magical. Our flight home, on the Brash jet this time, was uneventful. Declan and I sat together, but the rest of the plane kept side-eyeing us the whole time, so it was uncomfortable and frustrating.
