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Not you too.
“Offer’s there. I’d do it in a way that I wouldn’t get caught.”
If I were a cat, that’d be catnip to me. As it was, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, let the scalding water boil down over me. I welcomed the heat. Hotter the better. I needed to feel pain, to feel something other than him. I needed him out of me. His family. Their power. Their reach.
I welcomed the burning.
I needed it.
After a moment, the water cooled, and I opened my eyes to find Scout in front of me.
He’d stripped and shut the door. When the water was a more normal temperature, he looked down at me, his eyes flaring.
Fine. I’d let myself get burned another way.
43
RAMSAY
I reached for him, but he was already bending down to me.
Our mouths met, and I felt the heat again, this time it was inside me. It was pushing out what had seeped into me, and I wrapped my arms around Scout as he picked me up. My legs wound around his waist.
“Condom?”
“Fuck.” He groaned.
“I’m on the pill.”
“I’m clean.”
I knew I was too, and as I lifted my head, his eyes searched mine for permission. I reached down, touching his stomach enough to move back, adjust myself.
He moved his cock, putting it at my entrance, and I slid down. That was my response.
Jesus. That felt so good.
We both groaned from the contact. His forehead went to my shoulder, and then he began to move—or we began to move because I was going with him, moving my hips with his as he thrust up into me. Sex this good shouldn’t be right, but it was—and thank God it was.
Sensations raced through me, deep carnal pleasure exploding, tickling the base of my spine until I climaxed.
I gasped, almost feeling tears at how fucking good that felt.
Scout kept going. He’d been holding back, but now, he wrapped his arms around me, curled his fingers over my shoulders, and he pulled me down as he pounded up into me.
I bent down, my teeth grazing his shoulder, and he roared, but he kept going.
He hadn’t released yet, so I moved my mouth over his shoulder to his neck and nuzzled for his mouth. He groaned, cursing as his mouth found mine.
I opened up, wanting him to explore me that way.
The kiss was hot, almost desperate and crushing at the same time. I loved the feel of his tongue against mine, the soft rub there, so different from what he was doing to my body, and I felt the tingle at my spine again. I was going to come again, and I slipped a hand down to rub my clit. He moved my hand aside, using his hand instead, and I came a second time.
My whole body was limp, but I clung to him, riding out the waves, gasping because this was so good.
“Shit.” He lifted his head, turning to the door.
We stopped just as the doorknob twisted.
Locked.
Thank goodness. Relief flowed through me, but someone was knocking.
“Scout?”
I didn’t recognize the voice, a deep baritone.
Scout cursed before raising his voice, “Showering!”
“What are you doing home? Is this about Amalia?”
“No.” He frowned at me, but called out, “Needed to get a start on training.”
“So you’re showering?”
“Uh . . .” Scout grunted, the sound strained. “I’m not alone, Uncle.”
I tightened my legs around his waist, scowling at him.
He laughed under his breath. “What? He’s going to know anyway.”
There was silence for a moment on the other side of the door. “Jesus Christ, Scout. Hurry and finish, then take the girl home.”
Scout snorted, burying his head back in my neck. Goose bumps broke out over my body.
We heard footsteps moving away. Then a faint rumble of . . . I was guessing the garage.
“He’s going back to the gym.”
I hit Scout’s shoulder. “That was embarrassing.”
“Got him to leave.” He smirked, starting to move inside me again. “He wouldn’t have left otherwise. My uncle has an enormous bullshit radar.”
I groaned but held on to him, closing my eyes because, God, he was making me feel good all over again.
“Now, shut up and let me come, woman.”
He did, and I did again.
He’d finally achieved the three-release promise.
He made me a coffee-flavored smoothie.
As I came down from changing clothes—well, somewhat changing. I wore my jeans, underwear, and bra, but I’d put on one of his muscle tanks. It was gray and faded, and I liked how the black lettering was chipped. It was also a little baggy on me.
My hair was wet, and I’d put it up in a French braid. My face was scrubbed clean too. I felt very clean, or as clean as I could. Max had entered my life again today, and I didn’t think I’d ever scrub that feeling out of me, so I was choosing to ignore it. At least for the day.
