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My dick leaps against her, practically trying to high-five her pussy. Fuck, did I bring a condom? Wallet? There’s an old one in my wallet, I think. There had better be one in there. Check it discreetly. Now. Can’t bail halfway through.
“Lennox?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about whether I have protection.”
“I have an IUD in. I didn’t want to test my luck with this kind of thing. Because you know…obviously…testing my luck… uh, never mind. But if you have a condom, that’s good too.”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“If you don’t, I could look up the stats on IUDs, but I think they’re very nearly bulletproof. But if you don’t want to, I totally understand. I…we could…we could take the station wagon out and buy a box and park in a secluded spot and—”
“That’s a good idea, a very good idea. An excellent idea. For after. Round two. Later. Tomorrow?”
She laughs again, and the sound is the sweetest music in my ears. “So you’re okay with going in bareback?”
“Holy shit, if you say things like that, we might need to hold that thought while I get my head on straight.”
“Which head would that be?”
“Argh. I’m going to have to start running through my list of horrible things to think about that will slow down the action.”
“Don’t slow down. Don’t slow down for anything. Although, that’s an interesting concept. If you want to share your list with me sometime, as in after this, when we both need something to laugh about because I’m sure it’s funny, I’d be down. Or maybe now. You could try me and see if it works. I could use a little cooling down myself.”
“What you could use is my mouth on your pussy because you’re a rare flower, and I want to collect all your nectar.”
“Or that,” Cass says breathily.
Cass grabs my shoulders and hauls me toward the bed. I stumble and nearly fall on her. My hands break their fall by grabbing her tunic a little too fiercely, and the fabric gives a mighty rip along the hem. We both freeze, then she laughs.
“Don’t worry. It’s old, anyway. If you could either tear the rest off or remove it in some other fashion, that would be excellent.”
I’ve always been good at following commands, and I prove it by neatly divesting Cass of her shirt. My hands move down her silky skin, tracing a path to the swell of her breasts. They’re overflowing in a red lace bra, which makes my balls hotter than spicy meatballs.
“Rip that off, too,” Cass pants hungrily.
“It’s pretty, though. I wouldn’t want to ruin it.” That’s a lie. I really want to ruin it.
“I don’t care.” Her hands scramble up and fumble, undoing the clasp at the back. “Okay, maybe you’re right. It was expensive, though it’s kind of ruined because we can’t see shit in here.” She backs up, and something goes thump in the room. Then, a small lamp with a stained glass shade that resembles a blue, purple, and pink-hued mushroom turns on.
“That’s much better.” I realize I’m talking to Cass’ breasts, the perfect raspberry nipples begging for attention, but uh, what? It is so much better with the light on.
She launches herself at me, and this time, I’m ready for the full-scale takedown that occurs, collapsing us both onto the mattress. I make sure Cass ends up on top, so she doesn’t get crushed or hurt. Also? It’s a great angle having her on top of me, especially when she’s only wearing the thin black leggings that I’d like to rip off with my teeth. She straddles my hips and bends forward to kiss me.
She does more than just kiss me. Has a kiss between us ever been just a kiss? This kiss is sensational, bliss in a bottle, and life itself. I never want to stop kissing Cass. Never.
It is a problem I need to solve fast before we get in way too freaking deep to extract ourselves. That twinge in my stomach and chest? It’s telling me it might already be too late for that. Can I ask Cass to give up everything? Can I try the whole living like a normal person thing? Is there some way we can meet in the middle somewhere?
CHAPTER 13
Cass
The kiss is so hot that I can feel it to the tips of my toes. Okay, so I mostly feel it in my lady bits and nipples, which are so hard that they’re literally redefining the term pebbles. My leggings are soaked, and since I’m here straddling Lennox’s waist anyway, it’s incredibly easy to rock my hips against the rock-hard bulge in his jeans.
“Oh my god, Lennox,” I gasp against his mouth. “We still have our pants on, but I think I could come.”
I was so worried in the kitchen. And on the drive over. I thought Lennox was going to say that this whole thing was a mistake or tell me that he couldn’t be with me, and then I’d blame it on my luck because telling myself it was bad luck would be the easiest way to justify that kind of pain and hurt to myself.
