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“Yeah, well, I went raging dick on you, so we’re even.”
I palm his jaw. “I’m sorry, Sean.”
“Me too, baby.”
He presses the watermelon to my lips, and I bite into the juice-laden fruit. He licks the remnants of tears along with juice off my face before he pulls me into a deep kiss. “Sorry about the fireworks.”
“I don’t care about the stupid fireworks. Just…” my breath hitches again and I can see it pains him. “Just don’t forget about me while you’re out saving the world.”
“Impossible.”
I look over at him imploringly. “I need you to believe me. Because I do believe in you, Sean. So much. I saw my father today, and I think he was trying to bridge the gap, and all I could think was that I don’t respect him enough to try. No matter what excuses he gives. I don’t respect him. And then I thought about you, and I realized I have this respect for you that I’ve never had for any man in my life. I want you to know,” I exhale a shuddering breath as my eyes water, “that. I need you to know that.”
He tosses his watermelon and palms my face, holding my gaze for long seconds before he presses the gentlest of kisses to my lips. He pulls away slightly so our foreheads touch. “What do you say we make up now?”
“I thought we did.”
“We did, but this, right here, this is the best part,” he captures my mouth in a deep kiss. Sinking into it, our tongues dance as I start to lift his shirt, my breath hitching against his mouth, disrupting our kiss.
“Baby,” he murmurs, biting his lip and running gentle knuckles across my chin as he gazes over at me. Then he dips, his descent slow and deliberate before he again presses his lips to mine. Leisurely, he slips the straps of my dress down before lowering the material to free my breasts. Nipples tight, he runs a rough, warm hand along the whole of my chest. Following his pace, I unhook the button of his jeans and unzip him, pulling his ready cock free. Eyes locked, I pump him in my hand as he fishes a condom from his wallet, before he crushes my mouth with another consuming kiss. Positioning me, he pulls me to the edge of the counter before rolling the condom on. Pressing his forehead to mine, eyes cast down, we collectively watch as he slowly pushes into me.
“Sean,” I rasp out as he exhales a pleasured breath.
Emotions zing between us as his hands flatten me to the counter while the rest of the forgotten watermelon slides to the floor. His strokes are deep, his eyes full of love, as
his sticky hands palm my breasts trailing down my new dress. It was worth every penny.
He leaves no place untouched.
TYLER EXITS HIS TRUCK WHEN he spots me pulling up, that natural swagger of his greeting me at my driver’s side door.
“Hey, beautiful.” His dimple appears, and I drink in the sight of him. He’s let his hair grow a little longer since I met him, only adding to his appeal. It lies in a mess of short waves on his head. His rich brown eyes sweep me as he pulls me into a friendly hug.
“Hey, you, thanks for meeting me.”
“No problem. What’s with all the secrecy?” He nods, scanning the parking lot of the shopping center.
“I thought secrecy was the name of this game, which is why I need your help.”
“Yeah?” Another shot of dimple. He truly is a beautiful man. In the short time I’ve known him, he’s presented himself in a way where I’m convinced his beauty runs well past skin and bone structure.
“Yeah, but it might get you into trouble, if we’re caught.”
He cups my shoulders and leans in. “Did you forget I’m the problem solver?”
“That’s why I need you. You’re the only man for the job.”
His smile widens. “Well, before we go in, you should know, I also love trouble.”
“You’re right,” Tyler scopes out the house with trepidation from where we sit parked in the driveway before turning to me. “He won’t like this.”
He again peeks at the house and sighs before hopping out of his truck, gathering bags of the supplies we’d picked up at the store. Once I’d let him in on what we were doing mid-trip, he went quiet.
“That’s why it’s our secret,” I fill my hands with another half dozen bags, weighing his expression. He clearly doesn’t want to be here. “Sorry, I guess I could’ve just asked for her address.”
“It’s fine,” he says, his arms and shoulders bulging from the weight he’s carrying before he nudges me forward. “Let’s do this.”
We head up the porch past a few neglected plants, anticipatory nerves seeming to fire off between us. I steady the brute Marine next to me, whose posture is braced in a way that makes me squeamish. Was this really that bad of an idea?
