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In one swift movement, he’s inside me and gripping my hips. His teasing movements of earlier are gone as he drives himself relentlessly into me. It’s raw and unbridled.
It’s perfect.
He sucks hard on one of my nipples, making me cry out in both pain and pleasure. He does the same to the other then slides a hand up my back, fists my hair, and pulls my mouth down to his. His kiss is as rough as his fucking, every thrust of his tongue matching that of his hips.
It doesn’t take long for that sweet heat of an impending orgasm to overwhelm me. I reach forward and tangle my fingers in his hair the way his are tangled in mine. I break the kiss and rest my forehead against his, breathing heavily, moaning with almost every exhale.
“Liv. Fucking hell, Liv,” he groans, moving even faster. “God, I need this. I need you.”
His words are my undoing. They scare me and thrill me and consume me. I clench around him, my world utterly silent except for the rush of blood in my ears and those three final words spinning inside my mind.
“I need you.”
I come back down with a crash. His arms are tight around me, and both my arms and legs are still wrapped around his body, holding us together.
But they’re not really holding us. The thing that’s holding us is the strength of our addictions. It’s gluing us to the other, all while we’re trying to make something potentially beautiful from something incredibly ugly.
“Oh, look at that. We went straight to dessert.”
Tyler’s words make me laugh, and I pull back. His eyes are bright, much brighter than before. If that doesn’t tell me the intensity of his addiction to sex, I don’t know what will.
I’m sure my eyes are just as bright.
“Come here.” He nudges my nose with his and slides me off the counter. Without letting me go, he carries me through to my room. Just when I’m smiling at his act of romance, he pulls out of me and dumps me unceremoniously on my bed.
I shriek and grab my sheet to stop myself from falling onto the floor. “You dick!” I yell as he disappears into the bathroom.
Of course, he laughs. He never takes me seriously when I yell insults at him, and that’s half the fun.
“Hey, bitch.” He throws a towel on top of me and then jumps over me. His knees are on either side of my thighs, his forearms by my head, and his grinning face is hovering just inches above mine.
“What?” I ask, awkwardly reaching between us and wiping. Somehow, I ease my panties down and throw them on the floor.
His smile widens. “You never gave me my blow job.”
My own lips move to mirror his, and I tap his nose. “That’s what you get for teasing me and fucking me on my kitchen counter. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to clean the counter while you call and order me a replacement dinner.”
I scoot up the bed and swing my legs over the side. Then I grab a pair of cotton shorts from my drawer and pull them on.
“You forgot your underwear.”
I pause at the door and glance over my shoulder. “A woman never forgets her underwear. What she puts on—or doesn’t—is entirely deliberate and always serves a purpose. You should remember that.”
I rub my temple as the receptionist on the other end of the phone babbles on about…well, I don’t know. Nothing informative.
“Yeah, okay,” I cut in. “But can you give me prices? Packages? Or do I physically have to come to California to get this information?”
She pauses. “I can email it to you.”
“That would be great.”
“Okay. Can you give me your preferred dates so I can check availability…for how many people?”
“Uh…four or five.” Despite the wedding, I know that Day doesn’t want a huge friggin’ bachelorette party.
“For a bachelorette party?”
“You know, there’s another spa two blocks away from you that was very accommodating when I called earlier today.”
