Page 67 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

“Let ’em,” she said, pressing into his body as she lifted herself up. He met her mouth, heat rushing through him as their lips fused, her delicate perfume enticing him, and he slipped his hands down over her back to the globes of her ass. Sam lifted her against him, shifting their positions until he was pressing her back into the wall.

“I want to fuck you so bad right now,” Sam said, his mouth finding the pulse on her neck and sucking it.

“Me, too,” she whispered, fingers threaded in his hair. Sam rolled his hips against the juncture between her thighs, grinding against her pussy until she was panting. He knew there were people a yard away, that one of the neighbors could come out and see them, but Sam didn’t care.

“Do you remember the time we fucked in the church parking lot?” He released her right ass cheek to reach up and pull the V of her neckline lower, exposing the top of her breast. Sam ran his tongue over her, sucking her flesh into his mouth.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“You were so hot, so ready. So fucking bad.” Sam exposed her nipple and dipped his head, sucking the pebbled peak into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue until she was arching into his mouth. He released it with a quiet pop, his hand coming down to cover her, his finger rubbing her through her jeans. “Be bad with me again, Birdy.”

His fingers continued to move against her pussy, the heat of it scorching his skin. “Do you want to be bad with me?”

Wren bit her lip.

Finally, she released a breathy moan. “Yes.”

Sam didn’t give her a chance to change her mind, making swift work of the button on her jeans and pushing them down. While he discarded her clothes, their mouths and bodies fused against the backside of a house in the dark, all he could think about was being inside her. Bare skin to skin. He’d never done that with another woman besides Wren. He’d never even been tempted to try it with another woman, the thought of being tied to them by an accidental pregnancy terrifying.

With Wren, all he wanted was to be with her.

When he freed his cock from the confines of his jeans and took his length in hand, rubbing the tip against her wet pussy lips, he closed his eyes. He wanted to bury himself inside her again and let his come fill her, over and over.

The heat between them chased away the cold as he pressed forward, sinking into her slick channel, the walls squeezing him, and he gripped her hips in his hands, listening to her breath hitch.

“God, you feel incredible. Better than I remember.” Sam slid back and shoved back in, this time all the way to the hilt, and Wren gasped, arms wrapped around his shoulders. As he pumped into her, he kissed along her collarbone, finding the column of her throat and gently sucking the skin where her pulse pounded. He kept his mouth close to her skin, whispering as he thrust, “Your pussy is so fucking wet for me. Is it because you know there’s nothing between us? Does it make you hot, knowing I’m inside you without a condom? That when I come, you’re going to feel it?”

Sam used her hips to speed up their motions, forgetting about the noise of their flapping flesh as he pounded her. Wren tremored against him, and he knew that she was close.

“Does it make you wanna come, thinking about how I’m going to give you everything you want, Birdy?”

Wren spasmed in his arms, burying her mouth in his shoulder as she trembled with the force of her orgasm, and her muscles clamping down on his dick took him over the edge with her.

They stayed there, for several minutes, heaving and connected.

Sam heard Clark calling his name, and Wren lifted her head from his shoulder, staring down at him.

“Come over Thursday? I’m off Friday, so we can . . . take our time.”

Sam grinned. “I’ll be there.”

Chapter Twenty

We have a report about stolen property at 314 Evergreen Circle.”

Wren picked up her radio, answering, “Officer Little. I’m a few blocks from there. I’ll take it.”

“Thank you, Little.”

Wren flipped her cruiser around. She’d been heading back toward the station when the call came in. It was a little after six in the evening, and Sam was supposed to be coming by tonight when he finished with his last client. Since their intense encounter behind Delilah Gill’s house, Wren couldn’t get being with him out of her head.

When he’d agreed to help her get pregnant, Wren was so moved that she couldn’t help kissing him. The rest of it had happened like a snowball rolling downhill, unstoppable.

And the things he’d said . . .

Wren gripped the wheel, wiggling in her seat. She should have kept things professional. She’d ordered the home insemination kit with the plan to use it, but after Tuesday, it all seemed moot. They’d had sex without a condom, broken that boundary down with a hammer, and now, she didn’t want to go back. She wanted to have sex with Sam again and again.

How would that affect their deal? Blurred lines meant muddy expectations, and Wren didn’t want Sam to think she’d changed her mind about doing this alone.