Page 80 of Head Over Feels


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Still surprised by how devious that was, I never saw Tealey doing something like that. “You sabotaged my relationship.” And why didn’t I think to do this to Steve? Fucker.

“I did.” This time, she doesn’t even try to hide her smile. I rub her thigh, finding her devious side a turn-on.

“I’m impressed, Bell. You play dirty.”

Tilting my head to face her, she kisses the corners of my mouth. “Only when I want something. How does that make you feel, Counselor?”

Counselor. Hearing that name elicits a possessive growl in my throat. I know Tealey never would have told me about doing that to Kayla if we weren’t where we are today. She was possessive back then. I like that even more.

Running a hand into the back of her hair, I move her closer, and then whisper, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Standing, I lift her into my arms and start for the bedroom. “I know what I want to do today.”

“And that is?”

I toss her on my bed and plop down next to her. “I want to be inside you.”

Running her hands over my comforter, she laughs. “That’s all you want to do today?”

“Yep.” I roll to the side and tuck her hair behind her ears. “That’s all I need.”

Our clothes come off as our lips find each other.

My mind spins as I watch her wriggle. She’s desperate for my hands on her—my rough touch and my gaze drifting over her body. I want to give her what she wants.

Freckles on her thighs draw me in, and I move to cover her softness with the heat of my hand. Her body moves, her eyes wild with the same desire I feel inside. We made love last night several times over. As great as that felt, seeing her lying in my bed brings out a different craving.

Yearning.

Voracity.

Uncontrollable hunger.

I can’t change the power of the hurricane I’m becoming with her, but I’ll do my best to control the speed for her enjoyment. Taking the sheet, I push the fabric away from Tealey’s body. This amazing woman trusts me not just with her body but also with her mind, her joy, and every inch of skin and emotion like I deserve her.

Covering the hills of her hips, I settle her small frame on top of me. She rolls a condom over my dick before rising, only to sink down again. Seated with me inside her, she rests her palms on my chest, and whispers, “You say you waited years but know that you weren’t waiting alone.” Leaning down, she kisses me as I devour her words, her kiss, her mouth, and everything she’ll give me. I’m greedy when it comes to her.

She takes every thrust, coming back down with her own intensity. As she rocks on top, her breasts summon me. I knead and pinch, watching her react and learning what she likes and needs.

The warmth of her body consuming mine has me falling deeper under her spell.

As she climbs toward her orgasm, I’m spellbound by her beauty. No other woman has ever done this to me. Her eyes dip closed, and her head tilts back with her mouth open. She’s stunning in her glory, owning every part of me without even trying. If she only knew . . .

She moans, cries out my name, and as she comes, I dive into the deep end of her heavenliness, joining her as I orgasm. God, this woman.

Even sated, I can’t wait for more of her.

She curls around my side, her breath still uneven. But something makes her giggle, and she says, “I had no clue it could be this good.”

I run my thumb over her cheek and lower to her neck to feel the rapidly thumping beat of her pulse. “Same, baby. Same.”

And seeing her gentle smile, I feel content for the first time.

“I want to get married.”

So much for the contentedness . . .

Maybe my reaction—eyes bulging like a cartoon character—isn’t as controlled as I would have liked. But what the hell?

She wants to talk about marriage?

With her hands already thrown up in surrender, she sits up. “One day. I mean one day. Not today. Oh, God.” She covers her eyes with her hands. “I totally blew this amazing sex moment—”

“It was more than a moment. I mean, it wasn’t that fast.” No need to base skill or prowess on how fast or slow things take. She turns me on. That’s the bottom line.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” She won’t even look at me, yet I can’t stop staring at her—probably still bug-eyed. I can’t lose my cool. She’s not the opposing side. She’s my girlfriend.

Why did I bristle at the mention of marriage? Is it because I’m not ready—that seems logical. It’s also fast. We’ve only dated a short time. Granted, I’ve already been with Tealey longer than most women in my past.

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