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With a cry, he breaks away and rises above me, cock in hand, and joins himself to me, sinking inside me in one powerful thrust. I feel every inch of him sliding inside me, and I raise my hips to take as much as he can give. Buried to the hilt, he pauses and places a tender kiss on my lips. “This feels so good. So right,” he says as he slowly withdraws and then reclaims me, over and over again.
I wrap my legs around his back and pull him to me, urging him deeper, closer. I need more, now, but Chris won’t be rushed. He pumps into me slowly, deliberately, driving me to the edge but not over, never over. I’m throbbing with the need for release, but Chris pauses again. “Come with me,” he says and covers my mouth with his, tongue stroking mine in rhythm to the thrusting of his cock, the way it does when he loves me. Slow. Deep. Hard. And finally, we fall over the edge, together, our bodies quivering as one, our cries muffled by our kiss.
Coming while kissing has to be the most erotic, most intimate sensation I’ve ever experienced. Even now, as the aftershocks ripple through me, as I feel the pressure of Chris nestled inside me, it’s his mouth on mine, breathing each other’s air, that I savor most. Sex, as incredible as it is, can’t make my heart burst the way it does when his lips meet mine. No wonder romances spend so many pages describing the kiss. I’d always thought that was for build-up, that sex was where you find euphoria. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Euphoria is in the kiss.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.
“I love you, too.”
Chris rolls over and pulls me into his side, and I drift to sleep knowing that it’s Chris, not any imaginary character, that has truly brought romance into my life.
Chapter 25
Chris
Lisa’s still nestled in my arms when I wake the next morning, head against my chest, her hair covering her like a blanket. I want to touch it, let it fall over my fingers, but I like holding her too much to risk waking her.
I'm still in awe over hearing her say she loves me. I’ve never said those words to anyone before, never heard them in return, and dammit if those three little words don't make me feel whole, anchored. I watched several friends, even Charlie, bind themselves to someone else, and I could never imagine that. I could never envision actually needing someone else to make life complete. Now, it makes sense. With her.
She stirs next to me, and I give in to the desire to wrap her hair in my fingers, to pull her closer. This feels so right, holding her all night, waking up next to her. Her skin next to mine. I could stay here forever. Forever. Even that sounds right.
Her hand roams over my chest as I press a kiss to her forehead. “Good morning,” I whisper.
“Morning.” She smiles. “What time is it?”
“Nine thirty.”
“Oh shoot, I overslept.” She scrambles out of bed. “Writing group starts at ten.”
“I’ll make coffee,” I offer as I watch her dash into the bathroom. Adorable. I smile, wishing she had time to come back to bed. Wow, when had adorable turned into lust?
I pull on my jeans and head for the kitchen to make Lisa breakfast. I turn on the coffeemaker then search the fridge for something that will travel well, but there doesn’t seem to be anything handy. I locate a travel mug for her coffee and pack her a protein bar I find in the pantry.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Lisa gushes as she grabs her breakfast.
“When will you be back?”
“A little after noon.”
“Okay if I wait here?”
“I was hoping you would.” She steps to me and I catch her behind the neck, intending to kiss her softly, but as always with Lisa, I can’t limit myself to just one simple kiss. I brush my lips across hers, tracing the tip of my tongue over her bottom lip until she opens to me, and I deepen the kiss. I feel my heartbeat pick up, my breathing quicken, and I know I should pull back. But the feel of Lisa’s mouth on mine, her soft lips nipping at my own, pushes all thoughts from my mind. All that’s left is her. Her taste, her smell, her soft moans. I feel myself losing control and groan, snapping us both back to the present.
“I’ve got to go,” Lisa breathes through red, swollen lips.
“I’ll be waiting.” I kiss her forehead, knowing that if I touch those lips again she won’t make writing group, and I don’t want to keep her from a meeting that’s important to her.
As Lisa turns toward the door, I take a deep breath and lean against the counter. My heart is still thumping in my chest, and my cock hasn’t quite got the message that playtime is over. For now. When Lisa gets back, I fully intend to pick up where we left off.
I grab a coffee mug of my own and head into the living room, flipping on the TV for some background noise while scrolling through my phone to see if there’s any word from Jason. A knock at the door startles me, and I figure Lisa must have forgotten something but has her hands too full to open the door. I cross the room in a few strides and swing open the door, a curious smirk on my face. But that fades instantly as I realize the woman at the door isn’t Lisa. It’s Harper, Jason’s ex-girlfriend. The one who broke his heart. What the hell is she doing here?
Harper stands there, mouth hanging open, just as shocked to see me as I am to see her. In typical fashion, she recovers first and levels me with her piercing gaze.
“I suppose you’re the reason my favorite writer has been ignoring me for the past few months, when she’s not asking for love advice.” She glances over my shirtless torso. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Favorite writer? I rack my brain, trying to find a reason why Lisa would know Harper. I know she has other projects, most everyone at Engage does until the company can bring them on full time, but what are they? I’m ashamed to realize that hasn’t come up. Then it hits me: “my Harper.” Lisa mentioned that back when we first met, when I’d nearly driven her away by being skeptical of the work she did with anyone else. Christ, what are the odds that “my Harper” is Harper Bennet, Jason’s ex?
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asks. “It’s chilly this morning, and you’re shirtless.”
