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She falls apart even more beautifully than I’d imagined. A scream tears from her throat as her chest heaves, her body shaking and trembling as her climax racks through her. Just the sight of her losing herself to pleasure has me coming right along with her, hot ropes of cum spurting onto her knuckles as she works my cock, hips grinding and hand pumping.
I’ve never come so hard from a fucking handjob. By the time I come back down, a sheen of sweat is clinging to my forehead, my body going slack against the sofa cushions while Lo goes boneless in my arms, collapsing against my chest.
“Holy fuck,” she breathes, nuzzling her face into my neck.
“You’re incredible,” I murmur, slipping my hand from between her legs and bringing the other up behind her head, threading my fingers into the strands of her blonde hair. “Perfecta.”
“I’m not perfect,” she chuckles, pushing off my chest and sitting up to look at me.
I slide my hand around to her chin, taking it between my thumb and forefinger and drawing her face closer to my own. “To me you are,” I say, holding her gaze.
The corner of her mouth kicks up in a smirk. “So smooth.” Then her expression falters for a moment, her blue-eyed stare piercing mine. “You’re gonna break my heart, aren’t you?” she whispers.
My own heart squeezes painfully at her question. “Not if I can help it.”
16
I feel like I’ve been living in a dream for the last few days- a filthy hot recurring dream where a sexy Latin guy whispers dirty things in my ear and fingers me to orgasm every night. Last night was our third in a row meeting up at the cabin, and now it’s gotten to the point where when I’m not with Javi, I’m thinking about him, counting down the minutes until we can see each other again.
Yeah, I’ve got it bad.
Part of me knows I’m probably being foolish here, but I’m also pretty sure that any girl being pursued by Javier Cruz would be hard-pressed tonotfall for him. His easy charm and roguish grin alone are enough to sweep anyone off their feet, and he’s totally got me- hook, line, and sinker.
Of course, there’s still the small issue of not knowing for sure if he can be trusted. I’ve got the surveillance patrols takingphotos of his pack outside the motel, but I admittedly haven’t even looked at them yet. I finished hacking into a national facial recognition database yesterday afternoon, but I think some part of me is afraid to run those images through, just in case something bad comes back and bursts the happy little bubble of naivety I’ve been living in.
I just want this feeling to last.
I know I’ll have to wake up from the dream eventually. If Javi and I decide to be together for real, we’ll need to seal our mate bond before the next full moon or risk losing it. And we’ll have to come clean with everyone in our lives, opening ourselves up to outside judgment and opinions. For some reason, I find that part the scariest of all.
Not that my friends and family aren’t accepting. I’m sure my parents would welcome Javi into the family with open arms, and my friends would just be happy that I’m happy. But I also know I can’t vouch for him on blind faith alone, because if I was the one responsible for bringing him into the alliance and he actually does have nefarious intentions, I’d never be able to forgive myself.
It’s hard to imagine him as some kind of covert villain when he’s so damn sweet, though. The ‘song of the day’ he sent me this morning-Flowers in Your Hairby The Lumineers- had me melting over breakfast. If he keeps this up, I may just fall in love with him.
Ugh, who am I kidding?I’m already well on my way. The damn mate bond has my emotions running on overdrive, and it seems to magnify everything I feel for Javi tenfold. Like I’ve said before, this bond of ours doesn’t play fair.
“Lo!” Iver barks, reaching over to snap his fingers in front of my face.
I jolt my head up, startled, so lost in my daydream that I’d completely forgotten where I was for a moment. “Huh?” I ask, blinking at the other squad leaders seated around the conference table at the complex.
“Are you cool with going after Arch this time?” Avery asks, scribbling something on a piece of paper in front of her. “Have the chase be from the swimming hole to Pike’s Point?”
“Oh, yeah,” I stammer. “That’s fine.”
We’ve been shut in here for the past hour planning Sloane’s initiation into squad leadership. It’s a dumb tradition that we came up with in our teens- a series of physical challenges that involve facing the greatest fears of the other squad leaders before facing your own- and even though Sloane has a place in squad leadership by birthright, it’s not official until she passes the initiation. I swear we didn’t put this much time and effort into planning Ares’ initiation at the end of last summer, but Madd is being extremely particular about this one since it involves his mate.
“Got it,” Avery mumbles, still scribbling on the paper in front of her. “So Tris will be after Lo, then Ares, then Iver. And you’re positive you wanna use the ski-lift for fear of heights?” she questions her brother, raising a dubious brow.
“I’m sure,” Madd replies gruffly. “I’m gonna climb it with her. And if she decides to do the jump, we’ll do it together.”
“What if she can’t?” Tristan asks, his eyes glazed over as he stares at a spot on the table.
The significance of this last initiation task isn’t lost on any of us. It’s a callback to the accident that almost killed Sloane when she was seventeen and fell off the ski-lift. I remember being terrified when I got the call from a sobbing Avery, telling me that Sloane hit her head and was in a coma. She wound up making a full recovery, other than a scar on the left side of her face, but the incident was the catalyst to Sloane being sent away to live with her uncle in Denver for the next eight years, ripping her and Madd apart and forever altering the dynamic of our friend group.
Having her jump off the ski-lift as her final initiation task is poetic, in a way. It’ll bring everything full circle now that she’s back for good, and we’ll use safety harnesses and a landing pad to make sure it goes off without a hitch. That is, if she’s up for it.
“Whether she does it or not, she’s still in,” Archer states. “This initiation will be harder for her than it was for any of us. Hell, she’s a badass for even attempting it.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into yet,” Tristan mutters.
