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“You want to be used?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Yeah? You want me to take what I want from this hot, tight body? You’re going to bend over like a good girl while I get off inside you?” I let out a heated breath. “Maybe I won’t even let you come. Maybe this one’s all about me.”
She releases an anguished whimper.
“That might be a problem,” she chokes out.
“Yeah?” I rub my cockhead along her slit. She’s dripping wet, and not just from sweat. Her arousal pools at her opening, soaking the tip of my cock. “Why’s that?”
“Because I’m going to come the second you get inside me.”
I make a low urgent sound and thrust inside her. It’s such a perfect fit that a shudder overtakes me.
Christ. It only seems to get better with this girl. And I didn’t think anything could be better than the first time, the night I lost myself in her over and over and over again.
But it’s happening again. I’m losing myself again. So is she. She bites her knuckles to keep from crying out. I’ve forgotten where we are and stopped caring if anyone walks in. Let them.
I pull back, then slide back in. Once, twice, three times, and Gigi is gone. Gasping from an orgasm, riding the throes of it while I keep thrusting into her. Hard and fast. Gripping her hips, pulling her ass up against me. It’s a true definition of a quickie. Not even ten seconds later and I let out a strangled moan, my balls drawing up tight.
I’m about to come when I realize I’m not wearing a condom.
Holy shit.
This has never happened to me before. Not ever in my life. Even when I was a teenager banging anything in my path, I would remember to use a condom.
Gigi Graham makes me lose my head.
It’s too late to stop the climax, but I manage to pull out in time. Pleasure explodes inside me and then erupts as I shoot all over her ass. Getting it on her bathing suit too.
Panting heavily, I manage to get the words out. “We didn’t use a condom.” I curse to myself, reaching for the towel to wipe her up.
Her chest rises on a deep breath. “Oh, no. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault. On me.”
She takes the towel from me and finishes cleaning herself. “If you’re worried about me, I’m on birth control,” she assures me, her tone slightly awkward. “And no STIs. You?”
“I get tested after every partner,” I admit.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’m very good about that. I’m a cautious person, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I got tested at the beginning of the summer. So it’s been a while. But I also haven’t had any partners since then.”
I believe her. And I hope she believes me because I really don’t mess around regarding sexual health.
Gigi chews on her bottom lip, as if she wants to say more. Then she walks toward the door. “I should go. Need to shower and change before I head out.”
I secure the waistband of my trunks before following her out of the sauna. “Are you really not going to tell me where you’re going?” I complain.
She hesitates. Then she shrugs. “Fine. Why don’t you come with me?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
GIGI
What’s cooler than butterflies?
WHEN WE GET INTO THE SUV, MY PHONE CONNECTS AUTOMATICALLY, playing the next track on my playlist.
“As a new father whose wanderlust could not be contained even with a squalling infant at home, I was eager to teach my son the auditory magic that nature has to offer.”
In the passenger side, Ryder drops his face in his hands.
“We journeyed, my wife, Helen, and our son, Steven, to a place that may not spring first to mind when craving a pure auditory experience. The Northern Atlantic. Yet we were delighted by the happy chatter of the St. Lawrence humpbacks and piercing cries of the seabirds. Little Steve particularly enjoyed the symphony of the Northern gannet. We spent hours imitating the throaty vibrato that escaped their beaks as they foraged at sea. And that’s only the gannets! Nothing can possibly prepare an eager toddler for the sheer volume created by thousands of seabirds at dinner time. And now…let me take you there.”
Ryder inquires, “What do you have against music? Honest question.”
I give him the finger.
Putting the car in drive, I leave the Briar campus and head for the interstate. At a red light, I notice a frown digging into Ryder’s forehead as he texts something on his phone.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He sends the message and rests the phone on his thigh. “Yeah. Fine. Just another update about the Dallas GM. Julio Vega. I guess he’s not thrilled about Briar’s performance this season. Although he did tell Owen he enjoyed my goal.”
“Owen?”
“McKay,” Ryder supplies. “He’s the guy in the pros I was telling you about.”
My jaw drops. I tear my gaze from the windshield to gawk at him. “Are you serious? You’ve been busting my chops about my famous dad and his famous friends, and meanwhile you’re best buds with Owen McKay?” McKay is one of the hottest players in the NHL right now. “Who’s friends with superstars now? Can you introduce me?”
