Page 62 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

“I thought you said no kissing. No touching.”

“I did.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

He didn’t move, didn’t say anything. And suddenly, I hated the rules I’d put in place. The rules that felt like a wall between us, one I was tired of hiding behind. What were the walls protecting, me or him? I didn’t need protecting.

“Screw the rules,” I said, and before I could lose my nerve, I leaned in and kissed him.

He froze for half a second before kissing me back. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer. It wasn’t gentle. It was messy and raw, like we were both pouring every unsaid word and unresolved feeling into that physical connection.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless. His forehead rested against mine.

“Merritt,” he said again, this time softer, almost reverent.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just looked at him, hoping he could see everything I couldn’t put into words.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his hands still on my waist, grounding me.

I nodded, my voice steady for the first time all night. “I’m sure.”

He studied me, his eyes searching mine for any hint of doubt. Whatever he saw must have been enough because he kissed me again, slower this time, like he was savoring every second.

When we broke apart again, I couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound surprising even me.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Just this,” I said, gesturing between us. “You and your stupid bike. It’s like fate doesn’t want you to leave.”

He smirked. “Maybe fate’s smarter than we give it credit for.”

“You think everything happens for a reason?”

“I think I don’t like to try and analyze everything.”

I took his hand, leading him back toward the house. We locked the door, turned off the lights, and went to my bedroom. The air mattress on the floor wasn’t exactly sturdy but I didn’t care if I was comfortable.

“Let’s see just how much damage you did to yourself,” I said and pushed the torn jacket from his shoulders.

“Do you plan on kissing all my boo-boos?”

“Maybe,” I said and continued to undress him. The more I saw, the more worried I became. “Are you sure we shouldn’t get you to the hospital?”

“I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve laid my bike down. Besides, with you touching me, I’m already feeling better.”

I stripped him down to his briefs and stared at him. He looked like a wounded warrior, all battered and bruised, but I had never found him more attractive. “Are you sure you’re up for hanky-panky? You look rough.”

“First of all, never call it hanky-panky. That’s old people speak. I’m not trying to fuck a grandma. Second, I want sex with you even if I’m concussed and actively bleeding.” He grabbed my hand and pulled it to his crotch. I didn’t need to feel the erection to know it was there. It was pretty fucking evident. “Now, get naked,” he ordered. “And be gentle.”

His tone didn’t leave room for argument. But I still looked at him, torn between wanting to be gentle and wanting him.

“Merritt, do you want this?” he asked.

I nodded slowly, my heart thumping in my chest. “Yes.”

Without another word, I slipped out of my clothes and together we stretched out on the mattress. I propped myself up on my elbow while he lay flat on his back. My hand trailed over his chest and down to his stomach. He flinched when my fingertips ran across the bruise on his ribcage. I kissed a trail over his pecs and lower to his flat stomach. My lips grazed the many little bruises dotting his side before moving lower. I gently pulled off his briefs, being careful not to graze the scraped skin.

I wrapped my hand around his cock. He was hot and hard, pulsing against my hand. A low groan escaped his lips as I began to stroke him.

I moved my hand up and down his length and he reached out to touch me. His hand pushed my hair out of the way, giving me a clear view of his face. While I watched him watch me, I ran my tongue around the head of his salty cock. He jerked and grunted with his eyes squeezing shut.