“Yes,” she hisses.
Triumph only fuels my arousal. “Is this what you’ve been missing?” I pump into her, my finger slick. “Or this?” I lower my head and swirl my tongue around her clit.
“Oh god!” She presses her hands against her mouth. “Shit. Sorry,” she whispers.
Right. My brother is right below us. He’d have opinions, but I’m not worrying about that now. She’s my focus. She’s run herself hard since I arrived and was probably going full speed before that. It’s her turn to relax, and I know the best way to ease tension.
“Get a pillow ready, rosy. I’m gonna make you scream.”
She yanks a pillow to her chest and presses her mouth into the top. Those moments when she does exactly as I ask? My drug of choice.
Need overrides patience. I push her knees up, opening her completely to me, and attack her swollen nub. A moan resonates through her, and I growl in response. Finally, I can taste her and feel her. Pleasure pounds through my blood at the way she writhes, alternating between gripping my hair and sliding her hands over my scalp.
I find a rhythm that drives her wild, pairing it with a thrust of my finger. If I had a condom, I would’ve ripped it in my frenzy to get inside her anyway. But I don’t, and the pressure is off.
“Calder,” she pants. “I can’t…It’s going to be…” She groans. “So good.”
I’ll give her the strongest orgasm she’s ever fucking had. She’s not going to cry Tanner’s name, nor any other fucker who got to see her perky tits or feel her wet pussy before me.
I lift my head, putting my thumb where my mouth was. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Her movements grow more erratic, her pants muffled by the pillow.
“You’re going to come for me, nice and hard, like a good girl.”
She whimpers, her heels sliding on the bedding.
“Put your feet on my shoulders and get ready.”
She does as I order, and when I graze her sensitive bundle with my teeth, I send her over the edge. She smashes the pillow over her face, a long cry ripping out of her. The way her body clamps on my finger, her heels gouging my shoulders, strokes my ego more than the dollar signs in my bank account.
I keep working her, sending her higher, and she doesn’t move away. She grinds her pussy against my mouth, taking everything she wants and needs. When she sags against the bed, her chest heaving, I finally pull away.
I wipe my mouth before prowling up her languid body and unwind the underwear from her wrists. “That was fucking amazing, Meredith Winslow.”
I deliberately say her last name. It’s for me as much as it’s for her. I know who the fuck I got off, and she can’t tell herself I was delusional. This is us. Calder Cross and Meredith Winslow.
She lightly scores my bare chest with her freed hands. “Of course you’re good at everything.”
I grip her hands before she reaches my waistband. I interrupted her night, and she needs rest for tomorrow. “This isn’t quid pro quo.”
“But—”
I silence her with a kiss. She doesn’t flinch from her salty, sweet taste on my lips. My new favorite flavor.
“I got what I needed.”
“What’s that?”
A connection. No. An escape. Now I want only to roll us to the side and drift off with her in my arms. But my brother mightwake before me and see I’m not on the couch and my car’s outside. He’d figure it out after what he walked in on.
Would that be a problem?
Yes, but I can’t explain why. Tomorrow, there’ll be enough speculation—about Dad and Holly, the accident, the way the funerals are set up, what the will might say, me, my brothers, and Meredith. This is for quiet. A time I don’t have to come up with the answers.
“Get some rest.” I kiss the top of her head and maneuver us until we’re under the blankets and she’s tucked into my side like she was made to be there.
She lays her hand on my chest, tracing lazy circles with her fingers. “I thought you were going to leave.”
