“Listen.” She takes my chin in her hand, guiding my face until our eyes meet. “I don’t want you to think this is the norm. That this is going to become something we do all the time.” The smile on my face falls so fast, it hurts. “No, I don’t mean us having sex. We’re gonna have a lot of sex. Likea lot,a lot. I mean what I’m about to say next.” My grin once again stretches from ear to ear, and she giggles. “I don’t want foreplay right now. I need you to fuck me. Okay?”
A pained groan leaves my mouth, and I rest my forehead on her shoulder. “Jesus, woman, I can never guess what the hell is going to come out of your mouth.”
“And you like that about me. So much.” She kisses my neck sweetly while tugging at my shirt.
“Somuch,” I repeat onto her skin before I pull my T-shirt over my head with one hand. In the next instant, I’ve kicked my shorts somewhere in my room, and I’m reaching for the unopened box of condoms in my nightstand. It’s not because I don’t want the foreplay. I want it.Badly. But if that’s not whatshewants, it doesn’t fucking matter.
I’m going at the plastic wrapping around the box with my teeth and nails as she watches intently, a shit-eating smile on her face.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t need it because I got started in the shower. Had a delightful orgasm by myself.” Her fingers reach for my nipple, and she tugs on the piercing, causing me to moan and lose my focus. The plastic wrapping finally gives way, and the force of my combined efforts sends the condoms flying around us.
It’s raining condoms.
One lands on her belly button, and I toss the box aside, making quick work of getting my now painfully hard cock sheathed.
I lower myself, letting the relief of us being skin-to-skin wash over me. “Now, why would you go and do something like that, darling?” Her breath hitches at the nickname.
“I had to. I mean, there I was, getting clean, and everything smelled like you. How could I not?” She lifts her knees, widening them to make room for me. I run my cock along her center, but don’t push in.
Instead, I drop my face to her neck and inhale deeply. “You do smell like me now. I can’t say I’m entirely mad about it, even if I’m partial to your sweet strawberry scent.”
“Quit stalling.” She nips at my shoulder, and I flip us, so she’s straddling me.
“Do it again. Make yourself come, but do it on my cock this time.” I’ve followed her every lead, let her be the one to boss mearound, so this is a gamble. But then she doesn’t hesitate to take my dick in her hand and guide me to her core.
“Oh, fuck, Peter,” she whines, sitting on my cock, swiveling her hips. And she called me Peter. Lately, I don’t care what name she uses for me, but my first name now feels like an intimate thing she reserves for me.For us. I need to close my eyes and picture my therapist’s shiny, bald head right now, or I’m gonna blow my load in three seconds.
I can’t speak. Can’t think. Can’t breathe. I can’t do anything but focus on how incredible she feels and looks bouncing on my cock.
“Goddammit, I missed this.” She’s already panting through her words. I sit up to kiss her neck, her clit rubbing on my skin as we both thrust. “I’m so close already.”
I crash my lips against hers, needing her to stop talking because I am seriously going to come any second now. When I tweak her nipple, she yelps into my mouth, pulling away and throwing her head back.
“Peter, Peter, I’m—” She cuts off on a strangled moan, her muscles tightening, and I can’t hold back anymore. I pull her body into mine as I come, and come, and come.
“Beth, fuck. Oh my God.” We hold on to one another, our lips meeting in a desperate kiss that eventually slows to something more methodical, delicate, unhurried.
I am so, extremely, terribly, elatedly fucked in every single way when it comes to this woman. If I don’t marry her one day, I won’t marry anyone.
CHAPTER 28
WHAT WOULD I DO WITH A BIG OL’ BOOGER IN MY HAND, HUH?
BILLIE
After the greatest quickie of my life, Peter made us supper—chicken and roasted vegetables, which is easily the most balanced meal I’ve had in weeks. Calling him Peter, thinking of him as Peter, comes naturally when we’re like this. When we’re alone, and no one else exists.
Like this, he’s the guy who listens when I talk, makes me laugh, and touches me freely, easily. But he’s also Darcy, the guy who cares too much, researches at the library, and defends me to my dad.
Now we’re sitting on his outdoor sectional, watching the sunset while asking one another stupidwould you ratherquestions.
“Okay, would you rather pee a little every time you sneeze, or have snot fly out of your nose every time?” He chuckles at his own silly question, and I can’t help but join him.
“Both of those suck, but I’d rather pee a little.”
His brows raise. “What? Are you kidding me? Why? You could sneeze into a tissue and,boom, problem solved.” His hands are casually massaging my calves on his lap as we chat,and it’s a little distracting. I’ve definitely struggled with a few of these answers.
“But what if there’s no tissue?” I counter.
