Page 73 of Something Like That

And then it was over, her consciousness hurtling back to earth just as quickly as it was set free. She heaved in a breath, her muscles unclenching. Sank into the mattress, her body and soul light and boneless and satisfied.

He slowly pulled his fingers out of her. She whimpered, her thighs quivering. Her entire body felt like one massive, exposed nerve. Even the slightest touch sent sensation sliding through her.

He gave one last lingering kiss that made her entire body tremble. She blinked her eyes open. He’d gotten to his feet and stood between her spread thighs, staring down at her. He licked his lips, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

The heat in his gaze incinerated her, turned her blood to ash. She lifted her arms.

He eased onto his side on the bed, pulling her against him. He wrapped himself around her. The feel of his long, lean body against hers, his chest and leg hair tickling her skin, made her shiver. He hauled her closer, probably thinking she was cold, which was laughable. Pressed up against him like this, she was convinced she’d never be cold again.

She tucked her head under his chin and slid her arm around him. His spicy scent surrounded her, comforted her. Made her feel a peace she hadn’t felt in forever. She’d never be able to smell cedar again without thinking of this moment.

Without thinking of him.

She tipped her head to look at him. He was staring down at her. Tension lined his handsome face. His erection was pressed against her belly, hot and so very hard. But he didn’t draw attention to it by grinding against her, or try to pressure her into more. Which was another reason why she lo—liked him so, so much.

Wanting to show him—and distract her own brain from such dangerous thoughts—she stretched up and pressed her lips to his. He opened his mouth immediately. She swept her tongue inside, tasting herself. It was decadent and wicked. Desire shot through her. She needed more. Draping her leg over his hip, she rocked against his erection.

He made a deep, rumbling noise in the back of his throat. The sound bounced through her nerve endings like an electrical charge. While they kissed, he somehow maneuvered them so they were properly on the bed. How he did it, she didn’t know, and at this point, didn’t care. Because he kissed her like he couldn’t get enough of her. Like she was the air he needed to breathe.

She knew exactly how he felt.

They kissed for what felt like forever. Lazy, drunk kisses, all lips and tongues and teeth, the frantic edge growing with every moment. He sucked on her lower lip, each pull making her nipples tingle and her pelvis clench. She slid her hands over him, his shoulders, his ribs, his waist. Over the fabric that covered his hips, his butt. His hot skin burned her palms.

She nudged him over onto his back and sat up. Her mouth watered at the picture he made, laid out there for her. But she needed to see all of him. Not that he wasn’t so sexy it should be illegal, in his tight, black boxer briefs. They formed to his hips and thighs like a second skin. Did absolutely nothing to hide what was underneath.

She cupped his erection, giving a little squeeze for good measure. His moan might as well have been postmarked for the space between her thighs. She throbbed, an empty, achy feeling spiraling through her.

He rocked his hips, the hard, hot length of him sliding against her palm. She teased her thumb against the head, the wetness of the fabric making her lick her lips. The salty, musky, one-hundred-percent-Nick taste of him was imprinted on her soul. He groaned, the sound raspy and broken. The way the muscles on his torso tensed fascinated her, so she did it again.

He grunted this time, the sound guttural, rumbling up from deep inside him. He threw his head back, the column of his throat rippling with his hard swallow. She loved seeing him like this. Uninhibited and wild. At his most primal.

She wanted more.

Grabbing the waistband of his boxers, she pulled them down his long legs. His erection sprang free, smacking against his stomach, leaving a smear of pre-come on his skin. She tossed his underwear on the floor, let her gaze roam over him.

He was magnificent.

His pale skin glowed in the soft lamp light, the ginger-colored dusting of hair on his chest, legs and groin shimmering. But her gaze kept returning to his erection. Not that she had much personal experience—the ones in porn didn’t count since they were usually outliers—but she’d say that he was well proportioned for his height, probably somewhere on the upper end of average. The width, which was likely not anywhere near the average scale, was not something she had any experience with. Girthy had not been one of Kevin’s attributes.

Not that she was surprised, since she’d had him in her mouth just a few days ago. But, in the dark, in the car, half dressed, it had felt… naughty and illicit. Fantasy come to life.

But here, in the light, it was real. He was real. And she wanted him like she’d never wanted anything else in her entire life.

She straddled him, lowering herself right over his erection, trapping it between them. He rocked his hips. His shaft slid against her sensitive, swollen flesh. She gasped, her hips pressing down.

The position was reminiscent of the night in her car, except this was so much better. Room to move made it better. The soft light in the room made it better. Both of them being naked made it infinitely better.

He slid his hands up her thighs, grabbed her hips. His gaze roamed all over her, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to look.

She arched her back, thrusting out her breasts. Before she’d met him, she’d always been self-conscious about her body. Her breasts were small and her hips narrow. Kevin had always been more than happy to fill her in on her physical shortcomings. He’d even gone so far as to suggest she might want to consider getting implants. They could barely get food on the table some days, and he was worried about the size of her boobs.

But Nick looked at her like he couldn’t get enough, like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Like he saw her and wanted her. Didn’t want her to be someone else. Someone who wasn’t a huge disappointment to her parents for getting pregnant at sixteen. Someone who he didn’t look at her and think this is the person that ruined my life. Someone whose life wasn’t defined by her self-made struggles instead of her accomplishments.

He saw her, flaws and all, and he still wanted her. Not in spite of her imperfections, but because of them.

Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she blinked hard a couple of times. She would not cry and ruin this beautiful moment.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice was low, full of concern.