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They sat like that for almost an hour. At one point, Kyle was convinced that she had fallen asleep, but he didn’t want to risk losing the moment, and he couldn’t see her face without shifting. Her head was tucked under his chin, and he didn’t mind, because her hair smelled amazing, an intoxicating blend of honey and some kind of fruit. Thank god her ass was perched high on his thigh and her legs were bent over his other arm, because in the space beneath he had developed a brutal erection. He couldn’t remember ever being this turned on by cuddling before, except maybe in those first few weeks of dating when they were still working on rounding all the bases.

He remembered every single day of that spring, the long string of her firsts: Laney slowly peeling off her t-shirt in the barn, then crossing her arms against her chest; her sliding across the bench in his truck, straddling him, grinding her jean-clad pussy against his cock; getting completely naked in a hotel room after the Science Society Formal Ball, wanting to punch a hole in the wall after their only condom broke. Laney had made that night worthwhile anyway, sliding his cock between their bodies, holding herself open, rubbing against the length of him until they both shattered apart. They’d spent the night twisted up in each other, and when Laney wrapped her warm little hand around him in the shower the next morning, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He returned the pleasure before check out, and two weeks later when he moved into his first apartment, they had an entire box of condoms at the ready.

She lifted her head and he was torn between wanting her to see where he had wandered in his mind, and hoping she’d return to her original position so he could keep smelling her hair like a pervert. He didn’t dare think that she might be wandering around the same spots on memory lane, even when she pressed her forehead against his chin, then rubbed up his face until her lips connected with his jaw. Kyle stifled a groan and eased her legs down to the ground, freeing his arm to press between their bodies.

“Laney, sweetheart, that’s not a good idea.” It’s brilliant, asshole, shut up. He could barely grind out the words. His body was not on board with being noble.

“Probably not.” She pressed against his hand, flat against her upper chest, stretching her body to reconnect with his face, and the upper swell of her breast filled his palm. This time the groan was louder. “Tell me to stop.”

“We’re going to regret this.” Freud would have a field day with what was going in his head. Baser instincts were definitely gaining traction.

“Probably. Tell me to stop.” Her lips found the corner of his mouth, at an angle, and then her face turned again and they were sharing the barest of open mouth kisses, her bottom lip resting on his, pressing it down. Her eyes were wide, pupils dark and full of want. He didn’t see any hesitation, only heat, and his resolve slipped. One kiss. He let her breath slip into his mouth, hot and moist, and he was lost, disoriented in a mixed fog of memories and unfulfilled fantasies.

With a slight jerk, his extended arm relaxed, allowing Laney to crawl back on his lap, straddling his hips this time, and she looked down at his erection with a smirk. “I knew you didn’t want me to stop.”

“Wanting you to stop and knowing you should are two different things. Hell no, I don’t want you to stop.” He dragged a ragged breath into his chest and ran his hands down the sides of her body, squeezing her hips, tracing over her thighs and then up again, harder this time, sliding his palms under her sweater and over the thin cotton tank top hiding underneath. “But I don’t want you to hate me, either.”

“I’m not an innocent college kid anymore, Kyle.” She wiggled her hips, trying to slide closer to the bulge in his jeans. “I like sex. You make me think of sex. I’m all fired up from fighting. Let’s go.”

It should have been an ardour-dousing wakeup call, the casual offer of something that was once so special to her, to them. The higher-thinking part of his brain was protesting that something was wrong, that Laney couldn’t possibly want a booty call.

But all Kyle could focus on was the easy confidence that she had gained, how she must have gained it, and his primal need to re-possess that which he had lost took over. He could hear raspy need in his voice and he didn’t care. “Now it’s your turn to tell me to stop, sweetheart.”

Laney gasped as Kyle wrenched her sweater up her torso and buried his face against her camisole. His breath was hot through the fabric, and while she couldn’t see what he was doing because her sweater was bunched between her chin and his head, she could feel his mouth moving up and around her body in a slow arc. By the time he was at her ribs, his hands had wrapped around to her ass, and she rocked against his cock. Helpless against her desire, she heard herself whimper at the contact and rolled her hips again, this time deliberately, seeking out the delicious tweak of something on his jeans against her clit. The edge of his fly, maybe. Back and forth she flicked her body, flexing her thighs to give her more leverage, constrained by his fierce hold on her hips and his head pressed firmly now into the side of her breast, his mouth approaching her right nipple.

She pulled her sweater over her head, tossing it to the floor. Breathing hard, she watched as Kyle yanked her camisole down as far as he could between her breasts. Through hooded eyes, dark and pulsing, he took in the slight swells.

“You’re my every fantasy, Laney. So fucking beautiful.”

Did he mean it? She felt more wanted in that moment than she had in a long time. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about Kyle, had convinced herself early on that the passion she remembered in his bed was magnified through the distorting lens of puppy love. That had probably been the right decision for her self-preservation, but since stepping into his house, there was no doubt she’d been absolutely wrong. Every orgasm she’d had over the last twelve years paled in comparison to getting to second base with Kyle.

She ran her index finger under his chin, pulling his gaze to meet hers. Her thumb brushed his lower lip, then pushed in, letting his teeth nip at her. She stared at him, wanting to soak up the details. He held her gaze, his eyes hot and lusty as his tongue slowly laved the pad of her thumb. The slow, deliberate swipes synchronized with his palms on her nipples, and a tremor wracked her body. She took a deep breath, then shrugged, and he followed her wordless instruction, pulling her camisole down to her waist. He cupped her breasts, obviously admiring the pale pink swells plumped in his hands.

Nobody had ever made her feel this beautiful, this wanted. Her nipples begging for his attention. He drew one peak into his mouth, sucking and nibbling, until she surged her entire body toward his head with a moan.

“That’s my greedy girl.” His words were loaded with possessive pride, and she nodded despite herself, cheeks pink with excitement.

Kyle wrapped one arm under her ass and pushed to his feet in one fluid motion. Laney gasped and wrapped her legs tight around his waist. Her pussy clenched at the loss of contact. She was so wet he could probably feel it through her yoga pants. She buried her face in his neck, and he murmured in her ear that he was going to put her down on the bed for a minute. As she sank into a soft grey bedspread, she realized he had carried her into a makeshift bedroom on the far side of the entrance. He stepped out, disappearing behind the curtain that blocked off his sleeping area, and she was alone. Half-naked, on her ex-boyfriend’s bed. He was still fully clothed and now gone, and her nerve slipped, spurring her to wrap her arms across her chest.

Kyle stepped back into view, holding a condom. Something about her pose caused him to pause, and he slowly crawled onto the bed, dropping the condom before stopping above her. “Where’d my greedy girl go? Don’t cover up, Laney. We’ve been through this, remember? It just gives me another layer to peel away.”

She did remember, then, the first time that Kyle had come to visit her at the farm when her family wasn’t home. She’d invited him up to her bedroom and he’d said it would probably be a better idea to go for a walk. They’d gotten as far as the barn, and she’d pulled off her t-shirt. She didn’t need a bra then. Could still get away without one, although she’d come to appreciate them more with age. That afternoon, desire had only taken her so far, but after Kyle had wiggled her out from behind her arms, he’d used his mouth and hands to convince her that naked breasts were a good thing for both of them.

No convincing required this time. She took a big breath and slid her arms over her head, grasping for a non-existent headboard. Stretching under his gaze was foreplay in itself. He was looking at her like she was a crazy expensive steak dinner. Kyle lowered his head to her nipples, alternating licks and whispering puffs of hot air on them until she was twisting beneath him, begging for him to help her.

“Help you? You’re going to need to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

“I want you,” Laney panted. “Inside me. I want you inside me.”

Kyle reached for her hands pawing at his shoulders and returned them above her head, anchoring them this time to the pillow. “Don’t let go.”

He swept down her body, grabbing the waist of her yoga pants and tugging them down over her hips and off her legs as he staggered off the bed. He jerked his t-shirt over his head, and Laney got what felt like her first sight of his naked torso. His body was familiar to her, but time had hardened the planes of his chest, and he now had more hair there, and trailing lower. Kyle sucked in a breath as her gaze stopped at the button on his jeans, and she almost surged off the bed as he flicked it open.

“Stay there. Just watch.”

She slumped back against the pillow, panting, legs twitching, devouring the sight of Kyle slowly undoing his zipper, then his faded blue jeans dropping to the floor, and he moved toward her again, wearing just a pair of black boxer briefs that did nothing to disguise how much he wanted her.

She sprawled in front of him on the bed in a pair of skimpy black boy shorts, her legs spread wide, her pink nipples pointing straight at the ceiling, but all Kyle could see at that particular moment were her ice blue eyes, full of need. He was a bastard for taking advantage of that, but unless she changed her mind, he wasn’t going to stop. He only had one option and had to hope that it was enough.

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