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What the fuck did that mean? He moved it around—obviously the wrong way—before her hand clapped onto his, angling the vibrator lengthwise along her clit. Now he got it.
“Jiggle it a little, like you do with your tongue…”
“This way?”
“Uh-huh, yes…just…harder…” Her legs shook as she bucked against the little vibe and his hand, filling the truck with gasps and moaning. Then giddy giggling and panting as she caught her breath.
All the blood in his body raced to his cock. If he even moved the wrong way, he’d lose it. “That was fucking hot. I’m gonna smile every time I drive past here.”
“Me too. And anytime I hear someone mention a Happy Meal.” She had a huge smile going on. His was probably a mirror image.
The windows had steamed solid. Add that to the tints and he couldn’t see jack. He lowered his window and stuck his head out so he could see to move up. They were almost to the menu board. Fuck it. Food wasn’t what he needed most. She was. He jerked out of the line, out of the parking lot and headed west with the most addictive woman he’d ever met.
Too many excruciatingly long red lights later, he killed the engine in his driveway. She’d kept her hand in his lap the entire drive. They’d passed a couple of choice-looking parking lots and he’d almost stopped and fucked her right then. But it would’ve been cramped and awkward. Not good enough given the state he was in.
“I’ll come back for the stuff.” He pulled her out his side, kicking the truck door shut behind them, needing to keep the contact between them. Clothes got tugged off as they stumbled through the house to his bedroom. “No,” he growled when she went to her knees in front of him. “I need to fuck you. Right now.”
She scrambled onto the bed. Assumed the doggy position, her favorite. His too, but not what he had in mind. He did the condom thing, then flipped her over. Yeah, this way. Face-to-face.
“It’s gonna be fast,” he said, poised at her entrance.
“As long as it’s deep.”
“Always.” He pushed inside. She was tight, hot, and he’d been on the edge since the first time he touched her tonight. He could speed to the end, she wouldn’t be upset, but now that she surrounded him, filling his senses, he didn’t want to rush. He lowered his body until her tits pressed flat against his chest. Her arms and legs folded around him, urging him closer, deeper. Exactly where he wanted to be.
He stroked into her slowly, savoring the sensation. Rubbed his face in the softness of her hair. Her neck. “I love the way you smell.” He swirled his tongue on the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. Moved upward, lapping at her skin. Sweet, with something more he couldn’t describe. “And your taste…I can never get enough.” Here, behind her ear. The pulse spot on her temple. Her mouth—the plump bottom lip and that wicked tongue. All the other places he wished he could lick while fucking her.
She broke their kiss, moaning near his ear when he thrust deep enough to brush her clit with his body.
Yeah, he loved that too. “I love the sounds you make. Your voice, your laugh. How you feel…” He wanted every part of her, every way, all at once. And he didn’t want it to end. Not tonight, not ever. “I want to get lost in you…I love you.”
Nails bit into his skull as she dragged his mouth onto hers. His head filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and desperate kissing. The clap of suction from their skin separating and reconnecting. Words, parts of words, his and hers, jumbled together. Harder words spurred by their fucking. Softer, sweeter ones from a deeper place.
The scent of their sex filled his head, made him dizzy, made his cock pulse harder. His balls tightened mercilessly. Not yet, not fucking yet. Her hips jerked against his grinding motion. Knowing she was coming—feeling every ripple of her climax—stripped him of that last thread of control. Deep, he needed to be deeper than any time before. He covered her with his entire body, buried himself and let go.
Yeah, he was lost. And part of him never wanted to find his way back.
“Now I get the hype about make-up sex,” she said, pouting a little when he pulled out and left the bed.
He didn’t answer. His head was a mess, still processing what’d happened between them. “Have to hit the bathroom, babe. You need anything?”
“You to hurry back.” Her voice was already heavy with the onset of sleep. She’d be out within minutes. Exhaustion didn’t stop her from smiling fully when he kissed her, though. She really was beautiful.
He closed the bathroom door and planted his hands on the cool porcelain vanity. Stared into the mirror. “What the fuck did you do?” His reflection blinked back, offering no explanation. In the midst of their intense…lovemaking…he’d gone and done it. Told her that he loved her. Not just thingsabouther. He’d said the three words, straight up.
Definitely not part of the plan. Make up from their sort-of fight, yes. Enjoy each other all weekend, in and out of bed, yes. Confess to loving her—uh, hell no. At least she hadn’t called him on it. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even acknowledged it. Maybe, in the heat of the moment, in that tangle of words and moans, she hadn’t heard the specifics. Or she might be ignoring it. Maybe love wasn’t high on Andie’s list. He shook off the shitty thought. Maybe she was just as scared by the words as he was.
He splashed cold water on his face. Gave himself a good slap, physically and mentally. Yeah, he’d thought about falling in love with Andie. He’d felt it building, simmering in the corner of his heart. But saying it changed things. Love led to commitment, or it was supposed to. He didn’t want their relationship to end, but he hadn’t considered anything permanent, either. Not seriously.
Ah, fuck it. Staring at his reflection wasn’t going to make the answer magically appear. He’d figure it out later—or not.
A sandwich and some sports highlights later, he hit the sack. No snuggling up to her, though, even if she was soft and warm and still smelled fucking incredible. He needed to get his head straight, not blindly follow his heart and his cock. This guy was sticking to his side of the bed tonight. His side.
He gritted his teeth. It washisfucking bed—both sides belonged to him. Hell, he might as well crack open the laptop and order an engagement ring online. Tomorrow they could rearrange the house, make room for her stuff, paint a room for her son…
“Fuck.” The curse slipped as he shot upright in his urge to get the hell out of there.
She followed him up, groggy from being startled awake. “What’s wrong?”
