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“That’s your problem, Kitty Cat. You don’t have to think. Just do as I ask.”
I face him, bracing the counter behind me with both hands. It has the added bonus of pushing my breasts forward, which is where Barrett’s stare is currently resting.
“Up.” He grips my waist and gives me a little lift. I assist by pushing my palms into the counter, but I don’t have to strain much. I’m in the air a second later, my legs wrapped around his naked hips. Sliding my ass on the edge of the counter, he positions his cock and nudges it forward, seeking, until—
“There!” I helpfully instruct.
“Yeah, I know where it is.” He chuckles. Then I’m off the counter and my back is pressed against the wall. “I know what you’re thinking. Can I hold you, fuck you, give you an orgasm, and have one myself? And the answer is...probably.”
I start to laugh—but it fades when he slides those inches home. He’s in deep. I’m anchored, having taken him to the root. He pauses, blows out an exhalation, and hits me with more honesty.
“I’ve wanted this.” Blue eyes fastened on mine, he begins to move. My back is flat on the wall and he’s bending, pushing, maneuvering back and then forward, and oh God I don’t even care how he’s doing it.
I hold onto him, my legs around his hips, my arms resting on his shoulders, my fingers linked at the back of his neck. I deliver a clumsy kiss.
“Working for you?” he asks between pants.
“Yes,” I answer, followed by a few more yeses, because friends, he found the spot. The spot North found once, maybe twice. The spot I found myself but didn’t often bother with. “There. Oh God.”
“How about...?” He shifts his hips, plunges in harder, and I swear I see stars. They obliterate the air directly in front of me for a few dazzling seconds. A cry I didn’t mean to let out accompanies the second time he does it.
“Found it. Here we go, honey.” He renews his efforts. Straining, a thin layer of sweat slicks his body. My eyes squeeze shut when I tumble over again, my pussy hugging his cock as he drives deep again and again. I claw at his arms, pull his hair, and scream in his ear.
His release that follows is as feral as mine. His shout of completion comes on a growl, his grip on my ass cheek bruising.
He drops his forehead on my shoulder as I lean my head back against the wall. He’s still holding me there, but there’s a slight shake in his arms.
“Fox.”
“In a minute,” he murmurs against the skin of my neck.
“You don’t have to hold me here.” I kiss his temple. “I can stand on my own.”
“Good.” He lifts his handsome face, eyelids at half-mast, blue eyes cloudy with spent desire, hair a wreck from my merciless pulling. “One problem.”
“What’s that?”
He puts a quick kiss on my lips and then whispers, “You feel nice.”
“You feel nice, too.” We grin like dopes before he relents and leaves my warmth. I lower my toes to the ground, and he makes sure I’m steady before releasing me.
He doesn’t walk away. He stays where he is, his palms flattened on the wall on either side of me, and then lowers his lips for a sweet kiss.
Chapter 19
Catarina
The tapping of a keyboard trickles into the forefront of my groggy brain. Sleep’s tendrils are slipping away but I try and hold on to them. The gauzy, fuzzy state of my brain feels too good to abandon.
The tapping continues. The clearing of a throat. And then the vestiges of a really nice dream slip away completely.
I lazily open my eyes to find that the dream I was having—about having sex with Fox against a countertop and his kitchen wall—wasn’t a dream after all. It couldn’t have been. I’m in his darkened bedroom, wearing nothing but bedsheets, feeling naughty and nice at once.
What a luxury that is.
Barrett, shirtless, the sheet covering him to the waist, is squinting in concentration. His angled face is lit by the laptop’s screen, his lips moving as he reads the text before him. He taps a few more keys, unaware that I’m watching. He types the word “there,” backspaces several times in a row, and then pecks out the word “their” instead.
“T-H-E-R-E is the one you’re looking for,” I tell him.
