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While I'm thinking of him, his hand floats down my back, skating over my butt cheeks. When he inserts his finger, the angle hits a spot I didn't know existed. All my thoughts go to wanting and pleasing. “I want to give you what you're giving me,” I beg.
“You are. We’re going hit this climax together.”
I’m panting and my arm is tired. This is not an exercise that I’ve ever done with success. I need to change hands, but I’m distracted by how he makes me soar to a place unknown. But finally, I slide my arm around his back and take over with my left hand. Of course, this hand isn’t as coordinated so he guides me until I hit my rhythm.
I back him up against the wall, so the water slaps against my back. He tips his chin up, with his raspberry lips parted. He's trying to hold off. His muscles in his jaw and upper body flex and my inner walls tense. Everything is ready to explode. We’re in total synchronicity. It’s almost painful, like when my grandmother used the pressure cooker and one day the top rattled until it blew off, leaving vegetable soup splattered all over the kitchen.
And that’s when blinding flashes of light overtake my senses—except for the faint smell of sugar cookies. A liberating grunt bursts from the depths of his chest. Then his body goes slack, except for his arms which travel up the small of my back and sandwiches us together. He’s the peanut butter and I’m the jelly. Sticky and sweet.
When we’re breathing regularly again, we dance back into the shower stream. As I stare at Hagan’s mouth, I read my name on his lips but it’s soundless. Maybe I’m in sexual delirium. Then he remarks, “We’re really fucking good together.”
I’m not delirious, I’m in heaven.
The sound of shampoo squirting breaks my gaze from his juicy, wet lips. He bends to give me a plump kiss, blowing a raspberry on my cheek.
“How are you a sex expert one minute and a little boy in a candy store the next?”
“Part of my charming boy next door routine,” he cackles.
“So when you’re talking dirty, that’s charming?” I ask with a smirk.
He massages my scalp then stretches my hair washing the ends. The whole time my arms are around his waist, relishing the post sexual euphoria. “You can’t fool me anymore, Adalee. Dirty talk turns you on, doesn’t it?”
It does…more than I care to admit. But I play coy. “It wasn’tthatdirty.”
He scoffs as he rinses my hair then whispers the dirtiest oration in my ear—definitely not meant for public consumption. When he feels my nail dig into his skin and my body seize, he laughs.
“Okay, okay. Point taken. I like it and I can’t wait to do it.”
He rewards me with the deepest dimples of the night.
He balls up my hair and lays it against the top of my head. “You’ll be a beautiful old woman.”
Why did I fight this?
ChapterThirty
Hagan
Cuddled in bed,Adalee wears one of my tanks that I use for weightlifting. I rain kisses all over her neck as I absorb her body into mine. Then she lets out the sweetest hum. Julia seems insignificant now. Not unimportant, but a steppingstone to someone deeper. When I first laid eyes on the brunette laying in my bed, there was a spark, as I watched her move around the party. We saw each other and even she couldn’t deny that I crept into her brain the same way she did mine, especially since she tore her ACL thinking of me.
She falls asleep with me stroking her hair. As I’m about to doze off, I remember that I have two papers to write. They’re due on Monday. With my goal to graduate summa cum laude, I sneak out of the bed, leaving the warmth of my girl.
Exhausted, I drag my backpack downstairs, so I won’t disturb sleeping beauty. I make some hot tea to wake me up while I read over my engineering notes from a different class. Double majoring while playing division one baseball can be particularly challenging given the time demands of being a collegiate athlete.
Time constraints have me finding creative ways to do the research for my papers. During dinner, I research the topics to learn, bookmark them on my phone. When I’m running or training, I pop ear buds in and listen to the information rather than reading. It took time to get used to listening instead of reading because it’s a different skill set. One of Dad’s players offered that nugget of advice because he played college before going to the majors. Did I mention he’s the current MVP?
Luckily, I’ve already done the research for this one and my outline is ready. All I need to do is put into my words. There’s only six weeks of the semester left. If I can knock at least one of these out tonight. I can do the other one on Sunday. I love having Adalee in my life, so I’ll figure it out.
It’s four a.m. when I slip back into bed beside her. She shivers when I raise the covers and the cool air hits her bare legs. It’s that time of year when it’s between needing air or heat. I scoot closer and the next thing I know, I’m the one waking up to an empty bed with light shining through the slatted blinds.
It’s Friday and we have class at the job site today. At least I don’t need to pick her up.
I love having her here with me and smelling my favorite food filtering through the house is icing on the cake. Bacon on anything makes it better but since spending the summer with Tackett, I only partake once a month or so. I deserve a reward for a job well done—on the couch, in the shower and on my paper.
I pull on my plaid lounge pants Not bothering with a shirt, I gallop down the steps. I stop dead in my tracks. She’s changed into my practice T-shirt that has my number on it. Thirteen in large block letters takes up her back. But the hem lies right below the curves of her ass. Damn.
“Making yourself at home, huh?” My arms snake around her waist. I move her hair off her shoulder so I can kiss her neck.
