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As if in defiance, I ground over him. His eyes closed from the sensations. This was a new experience for me—bickering while fucking. Somehow it made it hotter.
He reached up, palming one of my breasts again.
I opened my eyes and bit my lip.
His eyes flared, and he grabbed my leg. He began pulling me against him. I gasped, my release teasing me again.
I was so close.
I wanted another explosion. Please. One more. Another one—and Scout took over again. He flipped me, put me back on my stomach, and sank in from behind. But he held himself over me as his mouth went to my ear, and as he thrust into me, he asked, “Is this what you wanted? Rough?” He pounded into me, reaching over to grab the headboard.
He started slamming into me.
I gasped, my head sinking into his pillow. Yes. That was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to forget. I wanted to feel only him, not to think. He was delivering.
He gripped my hip so hard I knew there’d probably be bruises tomorrow.
I loved it.
He thrust so hard my head almost hit the headboard. He caught me, holding me upright so that didn’t happen. I plastered myself against him as his hips pistoned into me.
And then I erupted.
A strangled cry ripped from my throat, and fuck, I saw stars. I almost blacked out as the climax tore through me at a breakneck speed, and the waves had me crying out all over again. My whole body trembled. I fell to the bed, on the side of him, and when I looked over, he had a hand around his dick.
I knocked it aside and put my mouth around him.
“Jesus!” he hissed, but as I deep-throated him, he threaded his fingers into the back of my hair.
I began sucking, and soon, he groaned and began guiding my movements. His free hand snaked down my body and between my legs so he could rub my clit.
I moaned over his cock because that felt so good, and as I writhed around, he exploded in my mouth. I exploded all over again, and then I lifted my head and swallowed, wiping my mouth before I collapsed onto his bed.
“You got people at your house,” he said after a moment.
I yawned, the exhaustion finally hitting me. “I do.” My eyelids were heavy.
He was quiet for a beat before he got up and tugged me with him. “Come on.” He patted my ass. “I gotta drive you home so you can sneak back in.”
I grumbled, but he was right. I dressed, smelling like sex and not caring, and watched as he pulled on his own clothes. As we headed back out, I almost had a heart attack when I heard movement inside another bedroom.
He flashed me a grin and tugged on my hand. He led me back out to his truck, and when we got in, I hissed, “We woke your uncle up?”
He laughed a little, backing up before turning around in the driveway. “He’s getting up for the day. He’s gotta meet some fighters for early-morning training.”
I groaned, slumping down in the seat. “Oh God.” I didn’t know what was worse, that his uncle might’ve heard us again or that we woke him up. Either way, I was mortified.
“We didn’t wake him up. I promise. He sleeps with this huge fan on because he knows when I’m not training, I get up and do shit. It used to drive him crazy.”
When he wasn’t training. I side-eyed him. “You have one more day before you start training again?”
He nodded, yawning and rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. I can’t do this starting Monday. I’m going to need ten hours of sleep every night. You want a booty call? You need to start planning ahead.”
“Sure. I’ll tell that to my PTSD.”
He glanced over to me. “That’s what tonight was?”
“No. I don’t know.”
I didn’t want to talk about my dad, and maybe he sensed that because he didn’t push me. We didn’t talk until he pulled up at my place. He paused on the street, and I sat up, taking a breath because I’d have to sneak in.
“Hey.” He touched my hand. “Thanks for calling.”
I frowned. “I called more for me.”
He shrugged, his hand moving to cup the back of my head. “I don’t care.” His mouth opened over mine, and I let myself get lost in the kiss. It was thorough, almost claiming. My heart was beating hard by the time he pulled away, and I frowned at him. “What was that for?”
He got serious. “Just being clear. I want to keep doing this.”
“This?”
“This. You and me. Calling when one of us wants the other. Whatever we’re doing, I want to keep doing it.”
I stared at him, weighing his words, trying to decipher if there were other messages in there that I wasn’t hearing. Then I shrugged. “Okay.” I scowled. “Don’t fuck someone else.”
