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I still love her, though.
One o’clock to seven is a blur of nothingness. As I walk up the path to Kate’s front door, I meet Sam on the doorstep. My eyebrows shoot up as he buttons the fly of his jeans. “What are you doing here?” he asks. “The girls are going out.”
“I know,” I grunt, pushing past him.
“Have you told her yet?”
“Won’t everyone just stop with that?”
“Easy.” He laughs. “So, what are you doing here?”
I peek up the stairs, hearing the whir of a hairdryer. She’s up there, making herself look even more celestial, ready to go out and dazzle every man in sight. And there’s fuck all I can do about it without causing a monumental shitstorm. Right now, that seems more appealing than the alternative.
“Exacting damage control,” I say to myself as Kate appears at the top of the stairs, her head a mass of Velcro round things.
She frowns. “Hey, what are you doing here? We’re going out.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you,” I mutter, taking the stairs two at a time, unfastening my jacket as I go. Kate moves back, allowing me to pass.
“Who’s pissed you off?” she asks, making Sam chuckle downstairs.
“I’m not pissed off.”
“You sure?”
“No.” I push my way into Ava’s room gingerly, finding her going through some drawers. Underwear. She’s looking for underwear. Lace? My dick punches against my trousers, wanting out. My thirty-seven-year-old ego pouts at the thought of this gorgeous, mid-twenties goddess finding better than what I have to offer. Ten years plus, history, secrets.
I’m moving across the carpet like a gazelle before any sense or reason can find me. Take her. Mark her. Make her mine.
She’s already yours.
“What—” Ava says over her shoulder as I grab her, tossing her onto the bed, relishing her gasps and yelps as I pin her down and seal our mouths. The sounds she’s making are sounds of both surprise and lust, and I turn her over fast, pulling her hips up to meet my groin, my hand slipping between her thighs. Wet. Ready. I make fast work of releasing myself and leveling up, pushing my way inside her on a restrained roar. She squeals in shock at my ruthless invasion, and my hand quickly finds her mouth.
“Quiet,” I order, powering into her mercilessly, every muscle of mine tense, every one of hers squeezing me beautifully. I stare down at her flawless back, my jaw tight, my vision clouded by a passion and lust that’s beyond my control. When I’m inside her, there is nothing else. Nowhere my mind can wander. Only she exists—how she feels, how she looks, how she sounds. Her sodden, hot flesh blistering me. The shockwaves riding through me collect together and deliver one hell of a sucker punch to my heart.
I release my hand from her mouth, and she gasps, her head thrown back in ecstasy. “Jesse!”
“I said, quiet,” I grate, my eyes dropping to her arse, seeing my cock entering and withdrawing, the sight dizzying. She’s meeting every one of my punishing advances, her hands clutching at the bedding. I’m going to come so hard, it might knock me out. Good. Hopefully, I’ll come around in the morning when she’s home from her night out, because I am not winning this battle. I know that. I knowher. But, make no mistake, I will win the fucking war. I’ll be scarred. Beaten. Wounded. But I’ll win.
My hands squeeze her hips as she blesses my hearing with the sounds of her pleasure, blood whooshing up my dick, my shaft becoming sore with the friction. She starts hitting the pillow, her yells suppressed. She’s coming, and by the sound of it, as hard as I am.
Fuck!I plunge deep one last time, my climax catching me off guard, my body folding over Ava’s collapsed form, my dick surging relentlessly, emptying inside of her. She groans. I pant. Holy fucking shit, if that doesn’t convince her to come home to me, I have no fucking clue what will.
“Please, tell me that it’s you,” she wheezes, both of us a useless pile of breathlessness.
I smile. “It’s me.” Turning my face into her skin, I lap up the salt mixed with me and her. “Don’t be having another shower,” I whisper.
“Why?”
I hiss as I withdraw, my dick pleading to go back. Turning her over, I secure her to the bed and take a few moments admiring her flushed face and drowsy eyes. Perhaps she’s too exhausted to go out. Wouldn’t that be satisfying? “Because, I wantmeall overyouwhen you’re out.” I kiss her softly, taking that little bit more life I need, floating away.
“Do men have an instinct for recently fucked women?”
And then she brings me back down to earth with her disgusting language. “Mouth.” I lick my lips and flinch. Alcohol. I can taste alcohol. “You’ve had a drink.”
“No.”
Her arms tense in my hold. If I didn’t have them secured to the bed, her fingers would be in her hair twiddling wildly. I have every right to be concerned about her night out. She’s no intention of abstaining, only from me, and that’s a kick in the teeth. “No more,” I command in vain, indulging myself again in her mouth, ignoring the faint edge of wine on her tongue and focusing on tasting only her. Lucky for me, she’s far more potent than wine. “I was hoping to find you in lace.” My fingers trace a blazing trail down her body and drift in between her legs.
