Page 47 of Crazy in Love


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He pulls back suddenly and grabs me under the arms to pull me off the bed. As soon as I land on my feet, he says, “Get the fuck in there and be in position. You have until the count of ten.”

A smack to my ass sends me in the right direction. I don’t need to be told twice. I rush into the bathroom, my ass still tingling, and shove my crap to the far side of the counter. Bending over, I pull my skirt up and then brace myself on the cold marble.

I know for a fact that wasn’t a solid ten seconds, but seeing Harrison enter the bathroom in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes locked on my backside, and smirking . . . my thighs rub together in anticipation.

He takes his time, hands on my upper ass and then sliding lower, two fingers running through my wetness and then rubbing it on his dick. Leaning over me, he kisses my back as he positions himself. “Did you think I’d come in your mouth when I could come in that sweet pussy of yours?”

Dear Lord, thank you for Harrison Decker.

He takes a hand full of my hair and pulls back until my chin is raised. Our eyes are locked in the mirror when he says, “Brace yourself.”

I claw my fingers just as he takes me by the hips and slams into me. I hold my chin high, watching him as his face contorts. Lust. Greed. Gluttony. Pride. Most of the seven deadly sins are hammered into me. But if I search his blue irises, a hint of something softer appears when he looks at me. Like a rose, that same feeling continues to bloom inside me.

Closing my eyes, I try to block out the tenderness and focus on the other sensations I’m feeling. A quiver is felt and begins to spread outward. When I open my eyes, a fogged mirror hides part of him away from me. I reach forward and wipe it away, wanting to see every part of him claiming me.

“I’m so close, baby.”

Baby. My heart flutters when I hear it.

I push up because I’m about to have another orgasm. Our stars collide, sending us both barreling over the edge from light to dark and sinking into the abyss of the beautiful aftermath.

My cheek rests on the stone, the cold feeling good against my heated cheek. I’m finally dragged back into reality when he says, “Was it as good as you remember?”

His hands rub over my shoulder, the sweetest Harrison returned after a quick trip to the dark side. He helps me up, holding me upright until my balance returns.

Wrapping my arms around him, I rest against him, and say, “Better.”

And that’s why I made a pact with this man.

Because every time is better. And every time, I feel the utter joy and danger in being with a man who is such a selfless lover. Because how do you pick yourself up from that once he leaves?

16

Harrison

Catalina - Four and a half years ago . . .

I’m a bag of bones craving another hit—of her.

It’s more than attraction. Tatum’s quickly becoming an addiction. She wanted to shower, but I asked her to stay. There’s something earthy and sensual about giving our bodies to each other, losing control, and then lying in the aftermath of what we experienced together.

Leaning over, I kiss her back, both of her shoulder blades, and lick the space between and higher on her spine, leaving one last kiss on the back of her neck. Sweat and the salty air mixes, the taste an aphrodisiac. Our night has been more than I’ve ever had with anyone. I’m not even sure how we fit so much life into the last eight hours, but they’re the hours I’ll still be reminiscing about on my deathbed.

I drag my finger lightly over her skin, glistening in the moonlight, and then leave one more kiss because I’m not sure if I’ve kissed that spot already. “What if I want to call you?”

Tatum opens her eyes, a smile appearing. “Why would you want to do that?”

I can’t figure her out. The women I’ve had sex with always want more of my time, not less. Do I suck in bed?

Nah. That can’t be it.

The curtains billow in the breeze coming off the ocean, the sound of the waves heard through the open door to the balcony. Somewhere far off, music drifts through the air, though it barely reaches our ears. It’s another layer to set the scene, making memories that will stick with me.

It was funny—maybe quirky is a better word—when she had me agreeing to a pact. Now, there’s an unsettling in my gut that I’m not sure how to deal with. I slide down next to her, lying on my back, and turn to face her. “You might be the strangest girl I’ve ever met. You don’t want me to call or text. We skipped the foreplay and got right to the sex.”

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