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Her legs are wrapped around my waist, but I hook one arm, then the other, under the backs of her knees, keeping her spread open for me, and angle my hips so that I’m positioned at her entrance. I let gravity do its thing and she stretches around my cock until I’m fully seated inside her.
She moans and tosses her head back, her curly hair floating behind her. When I start moving, she straightens up and wraps her arms around my shoulders, turning her face into my neck. “Oh god, Chase.”
I thrust my hips as I lift her on and off of my steel length. I feel myself bottoming out inside her. The pace grows more frantic as her short nails claw at my skin and her teeth lightly nip my neck.
“It feels so good,” she moans. “It’s so intense.”
I love when she narrates what she’s feeling for me. Her words give voice to what her body is already telling me.
When I change the angle of my hips slightly, she cries out with each and every drive of my cock and I know she’s close. The slapping of our bodies and our heavy breathing are the only sounds in the quiet room and it sounds vulgar and messy, and damn if that doesn’t ratchet my lust even higher.
Her pussy tightens around me. The next time I push inside her, her body goes rigid and shakes while she moans. She clenches around me and I slow the pace while she rides out her orgasm until she’s limp in my arms.
We stand silent and still for a moment, then I turn around and lower myself to the couch. She sits astride me, and after a minute, she raises her head from my neck and meets my gaze. Her hair is sweaty and plastered to her face, so she pushes it away to get a clear view of me.
“That was unreal.” Twyla looks at me with a mixture of disbelief and awe and places her hands on my face. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”
“Me either, sunshine.” My voice is hoarse as I catch my breath.
She moves on top of me, our eyes still locked. I rest my hands on her hips but don’t dictate the movement, letting her set the pace. She slides on and off, her nipples grazing my chest each time, but we don’t look away from each other.
This is a world away from the frantic fucking we just did. This is a one-eighty from two people who are attracted to each other just getting the lust out of their systems. This is something else entirely.
This is making love.
And though that scares the shit out of me, I’d never be able to stop even if I tried.
She rocks over me and I slide my hand into the hair at the side of her head. She leans into my touch, but we maintain eye contact. A kaleidoscope of pictures plays in her eyes—what already has and what could be in the future if we let it. Overwhelming emotion surges into my chest and I rock into her from below. I want so badly to kiss her, but I’m mesmerized by her eyes, unable to strip my gaze away.
Our breaths become labored, and when I move my other hand to where we’re joined and circle her clit, she finishes with a breathy cry, arching her back, chin tilted toward the ceiling, eyes closed. Only then do I allow my own eyes to close, and I spill into the condom, body rigid.
I pull her to my chest, and she wraps her arms around my neck, head buried under my chin. Neither of us says a word while I let my fingertips brush her back, the both of us sensing the shift.
Now is when I could tell her how I feel or ask her what she sees happening when she has to leave. But for all my muscles and my bravado on the football field, I’m too chickenshit to bare my soul to this woman and ask her to give up everything she knows to stay here with me.
So, the feeling I gained while we made love is tempered by the feeling of loss that is yet to come.
Twenty-Five
Twyla
Ipick up our clothes and follow Chase down the hall toward the room I’ve been staying in. It gives me an opportunity to check out his perfect, muscled ass. I didn’t know I was an ass woman—I thought that was usually a guy thing—but there is absolutely nothing not to love about this man’s derriere.
My legs wobble like Jell-O as I make my way into the bedroom. I can’t even imagine how Chase’s arms must feel. The fact that he has the strength to hold me for that long is a testament to the peak physical condition he’s in.
I’ve just set the pile of clothes on the bed when the condo bell goes off and I hear the faint sound of someone knocking on the door.
Chase turns around, halfway into the bathroom, with a scowl. “You expecting someone?”
I shake my head. “No. Do you guys get solicitors in this building?”
“No, never. The concierge would never let them in.”
With a frown, I walk toward the closet. “I should get it then. You stay here though, in case it’s someone we know.”
When I come back out of the closet wearing my robe, I can tell that Chase doesn’t like this idea. He’s probably concerned for my safety or something equally sweet or protective, but we can’t take the chance of him coming to the door with me when we don’t know who it is.
“It’ll be fine.” I go up on my tippy-toes to give him a quick kiss.
