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“Why here?” His voice sounded like a rusty hinge.
Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “So, the next time you feel like you don’t have roots, you remember two little sets of hand prints on a back porch, and height marks notched in a closet door. The next time Ricky or one of his cohorts calls you an outsider, you remember hours of PlayStation with the neighborhood kids, or three minutes of heaven while some slut who shall not be named went down on you in your boyhood bedroom.”
She was doing her best to keep things light, but his heart literally skipped a beat. He knelt until they were face-to-face. “You wanted to show me I have roots here?”
“Something along those lines.”
That she’d gone to the trouble left him at a loss for words. He considered his upbringing unimportant at best, and depressing at worst. Either way, it had nothing to do with her, but even so she’d taken these memories, dusted them off, handed them back to him, and told him to look again. This was where he came from, whether or not he appreciated the fact. Then she’d gotten down on her knees to show him she appreciated it.
“Thank you,” he finally managed. Thinking it was time he thanked her properly, he shoved his hand under the loose waist of her baggy jeans and into her panties A quick inhale greeted his touch.
“Well, I had selfish motives, too,” she admitted on a breathless exhale.
“Did you?” He eased a finger insider her, and her eyelids fluttered.
“Uh…huh. You’ve not only been inside my house, you’ve been in my childhood home—twice. Seen the embarrassing pictures. Heard the embarrassing stories.” She slid her hand into her pants and covered his. “I had to even the score.”
He moved his hand beneath hers, stroking her in the process, and then pushed deeper. Her body yielded, accepting two fingers this time. Over her gasp, he asked, “Are we even now?”
“Almost.” But then she surprised him by bringing her hand to his cheek and touching her lips to his in a tender kiss. “I wasn’t one of those friends who came over to play video games, or one of those girls who climbed through your window, so I never got to see this side of your life before. I wanted to. I wanted you to share the memories with me.”
“I’ll share anything you want. But to be honest”—he paused and circled his fingers—“I’m more interested in making new memories th
an revisiting the old ones.”
Sweat sheened her upper lip. Her tongue darted out to lick it away, and his cock throbbed at the very new memory of her tongue licking it from base to tip. “Did you ever sneak a girl in here and have sex?”
“You’re still hung up on the firsts?” He moved his hand again. Kneading her where she was soft. Stretching her where she was tight.
“I want this memory to be unique,” she moaned and rocked her hips. “Missionary?”
“Yes.” He pressed her mound with the heel of his hand. Her eyes went blurry. Her hips rocked against him.
“Okay. All right. Cowgirl?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Jesus, Shane.” She rocked again, finding a steady rhythm now, coating his palm with silky heat. “What haven’t you done here yet?”
“Is that what you’re offering me?”
“Yes.” She bit the word out and rocked with abandon.
“Are you going to ride my hand first?”
That stopped her in her tracks. “Do I need to?”
He wanted to laugh, but schooled his expression to give nothing away. “Kinda seems like you want to. Not a problem if you do. I’ll make you come again…one way or another.”
Those blue eyes went round and a shade wary, but she squared her chin. “First things first, Maguire.”
“Fine. Just remember, this was your idea.” He eased his hand out of her pants and tugged the buttons open. Then he turned her around and positioned her onto all fours. Next, he dragged her jeans and panties down and took his time arranging them before adjusting her knees a little wider. “Comfy?”
She laughed, sounding a little relieved. “Wow. Big, bad Shane Maguire never managed to talk a girl onto her hands and knees in here before now.”
“Oh, I did. You’re not going to be on your hands and knees.” He leaned over her, deliberately letting his cock settle into the valley bisecting her lush, yielding cheeks, and pushed her upper body down until she folded her forearms on the floor. Then, with his hand across the back of her neck, he lowered her forehead to rest on her wrists. Just as slowly, he straightened, closed his fist around his cock, and dragged it down the divide.
“Oh, God.” She stiffened and jerked her head up, trapping his cock mid-journey. “Anal?” She craned her neck and looked at him with wide blue eyes. “Really?” Skittish muscles tightened again, giving him another squeeze.
