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There.
More.
Please, please, please…
“Can feel you… getting close.” His fingers tighten at my ass, his thrusts becoming more punctuated. “Give it to me.”
That guttural demand, coupled with the achy pressure of him bottoming out within me does it. The tension snaps, a cry escaping as an orgasm grips my core, wringing wave after wave of pleasure, so intense all I can do is cling to Liam, letting him carry me through before he starts to move in earnest himself.
His hips drive faster, harder. His breath comes hot at my ear. “Need you.”
His fingers tighten all the more. And when he buries his face in my neck and groans my name… it sends me over the edge again with him.
19
Liam
Control? What’s that?
Restraint? Never heard of it.
All I know is that getting inside Stormy last night felt like a rush of oxygen to the brain. Like I’d been holding my breath and didn’t even know it.
And that kind of thinking damn sure doesn’t align with the kind of casual last night was supposed to be. Same with the way it felt to unwrap my arms from around her this morning. Brutal.
She was soft and warm, fitted into me like that long-lost puzzle piece.
Doesn’t matter, though.
We’ve got a built-in reset with this road trip. Three days. And when I get back—
Waiting in the chilly morning air to board, I scowl at the still dark tarmac trying to visualize what me walking back into our place is supposed to look like.
I shouldn’t care if she’s there. If she bothers to look up from the couch where she’s probably going to be buried in her laptop when I come in.
The idea of her indifference, though, and feigning my own… Shit. That’s not us. It hasn’t been from that first sloppy drink we shared in Vegas.
So yeah. The next three days are a good thing. If for no other reason than to figure out what we want the days following them to look like.
It’s still dark as I climb the stairs to the plane. Rux, Vassar, and Baxter are already on board, shooting the shit in the first row. Probably trying to nail down plans for the next seven major holidays since Baxter and Rux are married to sisters, and Vassar is married to Baxter’s sister.
Grady and Nichols are parked together a few rows up, and since they’re both freshly engaged and since all my experience with weddings and marriage is fictional, I nod and keep walking to a section of empty rows halfway back where I drop into an aisle seat.
I’m more comfortable alone.
I like the distance around me.
And I need to think.
Unfortunately, I get approximately thirty seconds of it before I’ve got Boomer’s junk in my face as he cuts past me.
Terrific.
He claps me on the shoulder and drops into the window seat beside me.
Two seconds later, Bowie and Axel jostle into the seats in front of us.
“Come on, man. What gives?” They always sit by Static, and there are as many seats open around him as there are around me.
