Page 39 of Bittersweet Redemption

“I’m gonna come.” Her voice is strained as she looks down at me, watching herself get off on me.

“Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock like a good little girl.” That’s all it takes for her to completely shatter around me. And not a moment too soon because watching her finish pushes me over the edge, and I spill my load into the condom.

She collapses on top of me, and I instinctively wrap my arms around her. My muscles tense when I realize I’m cuddling her. This is more intimate than I was expecting for tonight. Sure, I wanted to fuck her, but I didn’t plan on holding her afterward. But it feels right having her on my chest with her legs still straddling me, my softening cock still inside her.

“God, that was. . . definitely not vanilla,” she says, her eyes still closed.

I laugh and kiss her head. “I told you I knew what you wanted.”

“I don’t know how you knew when I didn’t even know.” She plants a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. The sweet gesture takes me off guard and makes me forget what she said for a second.

“Uh, just intuition, I guess.” And the fact that she chased me down the first time she came on my hand. I knew she wouldn’t be shy in the bedroom. She was so determined.

I sit up, and she clings to me, our sweat keeping us stuck together. She’s so small I can carry her like it’s nothing, so I bring her into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Once it’s warm, I put her down inside, discard my condom, and slide into the shower behind her.

She stands under the warm water while I wash her. She willingly allows me to soap up her entire body and wash her hair. I’ve never done this with a woman, but it just feels right. Everything about Willa just feels right, and that’s scary as hell.

Afterward, I dry her off and slip one of my T-shirts over her head. It’s so big that I have to bite my fist to keep from laughing. I hate to admit it, but I like how she looks in my shirt. She looks like mine.

I scoop her up in my arms again. “I can walk, you know?” she says in a sleepy voice.

“I know. But I did a number on your body tonight. It needs to recover.”

“I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”

I wince. “Yeah, probably. But you’ll be ready for me next time.”

Next time.

We hadn’t talked about this happening more than once. She didn’t say she wanted it again, but after tonight, I know there’s no way I can keep from touching her again.

She doesn’t say anything as I carry her to her room and place her on the bed. I know I explored every inch of her body, but there’s no way I’m letting her sleep in my bed with me. No way. I’m already treading a fine line by fucking her. I will not be sleeping in the same bed with her and cuddling all night. If she’s disappointed that I put her in her own bed instead of mine, she doesn’t show it, which is a relief and a shot to my ego all at once.

Grabbing the comforter, I tuck her in and kiss her forehead, but she’s already asleep. I stare at her like a fucking creeper as her breathing slows, and she falls into a deeper sleep.

When I finally decide I’ve been standing there longer than I should have, I head back to my room, where it smells like lust and sex and Willa. A deadly combination. I climb into my bed and let her scent surround me as I drift off.

Chapter 20

Willa

My entire body aches, but it’s a good kind of ache. The ache of satisfaction. I know I’ll be sore all day, but I can’t bring myself to care. I regret nothing from last night. Everything was perfect, from the way he touched me, talked to and then took me, and bathed me. All of it felt like a dream. A wonderful, blissful dream.

Glancing at my phone, I see I’ve slept longer than normal.

I jump out of bed and throw some clothes on, carefully putting Kai’s shirt in the drawer with my other shirts. I may or may not be giving it back to him. I brush my teeth and run my fingers through my hair before I make a cup of coffee. Kayla didn’t tell me a specific time to get Roman, but I don’t like to be away from him for too long, so I promised to pick him up early and spend most of the day together before his last soccer game—a makeup from the weekend of the storm—this afternoon. The program I signed him up for was just enough to give the kids a little taste of the sport before committing to a longer, more intense season.

As I take my first sip of coffee, Kai walks into the kitchen in only his boxer briefs. I nearly spit my coffee out. I remind myself to breathe and not drop my cup. It should be illegal for someone to look this good. He doesn’t say a word as he moves around me to fix his coffee. I just keep sipping mine, acting like it’s perfectly normal for him to walk around in his underwear. Maybe he does that when we aren’t here since we’re usually gone by the time he wakes up. I guess he doesn’t care now that I’ve seen him completely naked. Which is a-ok with me.

“How do you feel this morning?” he asks, keeping his eyes trained on what he’s doing.

I watch him stir a spoonful of sugar and barely any creamer into his cup. “Um, a little sore,” I answer honestly.

The side of his mouth curves up in a smirk. “Good. That’ll teach you to go out with another man again.”

I roll my eyes. “You know, I didn’t take you as the jealous type.”

He finally turns to me. “I’m not jealous.”