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Scarlett groans. “Kill me now.”
“I can fuck you now.”
“That’ll work.”
12
~Scarlett~
How in the ever-loving hell am I supposed to get back in the sexy-time mood after my dad’s bestie just yelled at us through the damn door?
“Maybe I should head home,” I say, biting my lip and staring down at the sexiest man I’ve seen in, well…ever.
“If Rick’s in bed, you don’t have to hurry.” Tucker’s hand roams from my hip and up over my ribs to my breast. He lazily plucks at the already hard nipple, and I close my eyes with a soft sigh. “We haven’t gotten to the whole slow portion of this program.”
“We wouldn’t want to skip that.”
He grins and sits up, wrapping his arms around me. “No, we definitely can’t skip it.”
He palms my ass and lifts me gently until the head of his cock finds my throbbing pussy. I slowly sink over him, taking him as deeply as I can.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers against my lips. “So much better than any fantasy. You take my breath away.”
I bury my fingers in his hair and kiss him softly, gently circling my hips. The friction is slight but no less incredible than what we did just minutes ago. When the tension builds, I drop my head back, and Tucker’s mouth finds my neck, kissing and licking, sending even more electricity through every damn nerve ending on my body.
“I can’t,” I whisper. “It’s too much.”
“Never.” His voice is like sandpaper, rough and sexy as hell. He nips at my collarbone, and I bear down, ripples already pulsing through my core. “Jesus, Scar, yes. Fuck, yes.”
My body is all raw sensation as I succumb to the orgasm that moves through me like a freaking freight train. Tucker pushes up, hard, and growls with his own release.
We’re a sweaty, panting heap, staring into each other’s eyes as the world comes back into focus around us. He cups my cheek and kisses me, softly at first, and then with more urgency as if he’s afraid I’m going to disappear and he’s memorizing me completely.
Which is ridiculous because now that I’ve found this, not to mention him, I plan to do this as often as possible for however long we can.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he pulls away.
“I am bold enough to say I don’t know if I’ve ever been better,” I reply with a grin and brush his hair off his forehead.
“That’s a lofty statement coming from a woman with a shelf full of Grammys.”
I laugh as he gently rolls us to our sides, facing each other on the bed.
“Exactly. I’m that good. How about you?”
“I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He sighs and drags his fingertips down my arm. The man can’t stop touching me, and I’m not complaining.
“You say some pretty sweet things.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean.” He kisses my forehead and sighs.
“As much as I’d like to stay here all night—”
“You have to get home to your dad.” He nods. “I know.”
We reluctantly roll out of bed, and I pull my dress over my head, step into my panties, and slide my feet into my sandals.
Tucker just pulls on an old pair of sweats that hang low on his hips, barely covering the good stuff.
“You expect me to leave when you look like that?”
He laughs, tugging me to him for a long kiss. “Trust me, I’d rather keep you here. But you’d better go check on Rick.”
“I’m sure he’s sleeping.” I yawn. “And you’ve worn me out, too.”
“Good.” He leads me to the front door and out onto the porch. “I’ll stand here and make sure you get home okay.”
“It’s almost one in the morning in New Hope, South Carolina,” I remind him, speaking low. I don’t want to wake the neighbors. “What could happen to me in the span of roughly thirty feet?”
He simply leans on the railing and crosses his arms over his bare chest, watching me with a happy grin.
“Fine.” I shrug and saunter across the grass, sashaying my hips back and forth for his benefit. When I reach the top of the steps of Dad’s porch, I turn back and blow him a kiss.
He catches the imaginary kiss with his hand and presses it to his heart. And just like that, I feel myself go all gooey inside.
Is it possible that I’m falling in love with Tucker Andrews?
I open the front door and walk inside. Dad left the kitchen light on for me, and I walk that way, ready for a bottle of water, but when I step inside, I gasp.
“Daddy!”
“I had a bit of a fall,” my father says. He’s sitting on the floor, his back against the lower cabinets. “I couldn’t get back up, but don’t worry, I called Lexi.”
“Oh my God, Dad.” I squat next to him, looking him over. He’s in his pajamas and is missing one of his slippers.
