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I ripped it open and stretched it over myself. Cheyenne shifted to the edge of the counter and pulled my hips toward her. I slipped my cock right into her, instant pleasure erupting in the form of a guttural growl.
“You feel so good, baby,” I said, pounding into her, our hips smacking as I held her by her hips.
“Just fuck me hard and fast,” Cheyenne panted.
Yes ma’am.
I picked up my pace, tightening my grip on her waist. Moans escaped her lips with every stroke, and I found myself nearing a climax.
Her eyes met mine. “Cum for me, Wade.”
Oh fuck.
The seductive, sexy tone of her voice sent me over the edge and I took her lips as an orgasm ravaged my body. I kissed her, nipping at her lower lip as I finally came down from the high, my chest heaving with satisfaction.
Perfect.
That’s what she is.
ChapterEleven
Cheyenne
My head wasspinning.
I fluttered my eyes open, hoping that the light streaming in through the window would make the spinning stop...
But it didn’t.
In fact, I felt sicker than ever, and I threw back the covers, racing across the bamboo floors to the bathroom. I slid to my knees, dropping my head over the toilet and losing everything I had eaten the day before.
What the hell is wrong with me?
As soon as I lifted my head to grab toilet paper to wipe my mouth, the urge to heave flooded me again, and I threw up more, my entire body trembling around the toilet bowl. I grabbed the toilet paper, wiping my mouth as I realized the shakes were actually chills, and the sweat beading up across my forehead felt a lot more like...
A fever.
Nausea tore through my gut again, and I wretched, though suddenly felt the tickle of my hair being swept from my face.
“Hope you’re not pregnant,” Wade’s voice joked above me. The comment jarred my mind awake, but the only sex I’d had was with him—and that waswaytoo soon. I’d just had my period right before the tornado, too.
“I’m not pregnant,” I groaned, leaning back and looking up at him.
He looked down at me with sympathy. “Damn, you look sick.” Wade placed his hand gently against my forehead, his eyes widening. “Stay put.”
“Wasn’t planning on moving.” I wrapped my arms around myself, leaning forward to rest against my knees. I shut my eyes, listening to Wade open the cabinets and run water. I had no idea what he was doing, but I hoped he was coming back with a cure for my sick stomach.
“Here, put this in your mouth,” Wade nudged me.
“I don’t want to give you a blow job right now.”
“Stop it.” He chuckled, tilting my head up. He stuck the thermometer into my mouth and I shifted it under my tongue. “Oh shit.” Wade pulled it out of my mouth when it beeped, laying a cool, damp towel across my forehead. “One hundred and two.”
“Ugh.”
“You probably picked up a virus before you got to the cabin,” Wade continued, washing the thermometer off and putting it back.
I nodded, but then felt the urge to throw up again, and went for the toilet. Of course, Wade was there, holding my hair out of my face. It was a little embarrassing, obnoxiously heaving in front of him, but there was no way I was going to give up the living hair tie.
