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When she tensed everywhere, even her fingers clamping down on his ass, he gritted his teeth and kept going, knowing she was close. She was right there.
She just needed the slightest shove.
Her slight gasp turning into a low moan and the way she clamped down around his dick told him she finally crossed that finish line.
Thank fuck.
He shoved his face into her neck and grunted as he came, his hips twitching almost as much as his dick as he emptied inside her. Even after her ripples subsided, his muscles relaxed and he could breathe with only a slight pant, he stayed right where he was for a few moments more.
She didn’t tell him to move or try to push him off, she continued to clasp his ass, almost as if she wanted to keep him there, too. To keep that connection. Like she didn’t want this to be over yet.
It wasn’t over. They still had the rest of the night and early morning.
In all the time he’d been the manager of Crazy Pete’s, he never once fucked anyone on one of the pool tables. After tonight, he’d never be able to look at the one where they’d fucked and not think of Syn.
He couldn’t remember most of the women he’d been with in the past few years. He couldn’t remember names or faces. But he already knew he wouldn’t be able to forget her.
He ignored the gut feeling that fucking her might have been a huge mistake.
Not because it sucked, because it didn’t.
Not because he’d forget her within a day or two, because he wouldn’t.
That realization made him move.
He circled his fingers around the root of his dick to hold the full wrap in place as he pulled out. After removing the wrap, he knotted the end and tossed it in the garbage can in the corner of the billiards area. As he did so, she hopped off the pool table and the light hit the wet sheen of her skin along the top of her inner thighs. Her reaction to his attention. Her arousal.
His nostrils flared.
Sometimes he didn’t learn from mistakes or listen to his gut. Especially when he walked right into shit even knowing it was a bad idea.
Dumbass, that was what he was. And he was about to prove it.
She turned away, breaking their locked gazes to gather her clothes. “Can you give me a ride back to the bus?”
That ass was still perfectly white and he wanted to add some color to it. “No.” He yanked his jeans and boxers up over his hips but didn’t bother to fasten them.
Her head snapped up as she held the balled up clothes to her lower belly, covering the dark patch of hair, hiding the result of her orgasms. “I’ll have to call—”
He shook his head. “No.”
Yeah, he was going to regret tonight. But not for the reason he normally did.
“Rex,” she finished weakly.
“Ain’t callin’ your boy.”
Her eyebrows pinned together. “How am I supposed to get back?”
“You ain’t. And don’t bother to put that shit back on, just gonna end up takin’ it back off. Ain’t done with you yet.”
Those dark eyebrows launched up her forehead. “What if I’m done with you?”
He tilted his head and stared at her. “Are you?”
“I should be.”
Believe me, woman, I feel that answer to my very fuckin’ core. “Got a comfortable bed upstairs that you’ve already tested out like Goldilocks. Bonus, I even changed the sheets.”
“I’m no Goldilocks.”
That was for fucking sure.
“And clean sheets are always a bonus, but… If sex can be like this, I don’t plan on sleeping in that bed or keeping those sheets clean. Do you?”
If sex can be like this... “You musta been fuckin’ the wrong people.”
“I can tell you none of them made me come three times.”
Hearing that, one corner of his lips twitched with a little bit of cockiness. Just a little.
He’d bet none of them made her come even once. She had probably fucked boys who were pretending to be men, because assholes like that only cared about one thing…
Themselves.
He wasn’t going to analyze the fact he’d only ever cared about himself, too. But at least he did his best to make a woman orgasm. If she didn’t, it wasn’t for a lack of trying on his part.
So, yeah, he cared about himself, but he wasn’t totally fucking selfish.
“I’m standing here half-naked,” she reminded him, shaking his thoughts loose.
“Not for long,” he said, snagging her boots off the floor and shoving them toward her. “Hang onto these.”
She automatically took them in one hand while she held onto her jeans and thong with the other.
Before she could realize what he was about, he bent his knees and picked her up into his arms. She probably weighed the same as Justice.
“I don’t need you to carry me,” she complained as he began to hoof it across the bar.
