“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmured into my neck, slipping his hand between my legs. “I missed touching you like this.”
“I missed it, too.” I rolled my hips, forcing the heel of his hand to graze my clit, needing friction. “Denver, I love you.”
I hovered above him while both of us slid our pants down, and when I felt his hard cock graze my inner thigh, I nearly came undone. It had been too long, and no amount of sneaky phone sex when my roommate wasn’t around was enough. Nothing like the real deal.
So lost in the feel of his lips on mine, and the way his eyes were welling, and the need to make him happy for a single moment of this godawful day, I didn’t think twice before sliding down the length of him.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, lifting his hips to push his cock deeper. “Holy fuck, this feels so fucking good.”
“So good,” I moaned in agreement.
There was something special about having him bare inside me. Nothing, not even air, between us. And I leaned down to kiss him, tugging his lip between my teeth while I rocked my hips.
“This—so incredible.” His chest heaved against mine.
“We’re never using condoms again,” I said. “I’ll get on the pill before I come back for Christmas.”
“God, yes.” He drove upward, and I nearly buckled at the sensation flooding through my hips.
With each thrust, I watched the sadness leave his eyes,replaced with lust and need. And when I started touching my clit, rubbing with my middle finger while getting lost in his expansive eyes, he threw me off of him with a low rumble in his chest.
“I’m going to come, and if you’re on top, I’ll end up coming inside you.” He gulped, shifting to lay me down and spread my thighs wide. Then he shoved back inside me with an attempt at a quiet moan that came out strangled and hoarse. “Holy fuck, Blair. You feel so fucking good.”
Circling a fingertip over my clit, I arched my back, relinquishing power to the tidal wave rushing over me from head to toe. Moaning—loudly—and not giving a single fuck because Denver and I were adults now. We were adults, he’d lost his mother mere hours ago, and fuck it if we wanted an orgasm to get us through the pain.
His breathing stuttered and he pulled out of me, pumping his dick in his hand until spurts of cum fell on my stomach.
“Thank you.” He collapsed on top of the sheets, tears and sweat dampening his face.
“I love you, baby.” I kissed his forehead, swiping my thumbs under his red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
Wrapping one of his oversized hoodies around me, I cracked open the door and, seeing no one in the hall, slipped out. Mid-dash toward the bathroom, I nearly crashed into Kate as she stepped out of Jackson’s room.
“Oops, sorry.” I grabbed her bare shoulder. Then it dawned on me. Kate sneaking out of Jackson’s room, wearing a blanket. “Oh. Um…go ahead and use the bathroom. I’ll, uh, use it later.”
Not even thirty seconds had passed, and Denver was already asleep when I shut the bedroom door behind me and crossed the dark room to his bed. Telling myself I’d get up again the moment I heard the bathroom door, I snuggled under the covers next to him, tucking his heavy arm across my chest. And fell into the best sleep I’d had in ages.
Blair
Sitting in a chair off to the side of the dance floor, my body sways naturally to the melody of a slow country song—“I Cross My Heart” by George Strait. With Hazel tucked in my arms, a heavy warmth on my chest, I swallow down the emotions bubbling within me. Couples move around the wooden dance floor in the center of the tent, lost in the music and each other.
I guess I’m lost, too, because I don’t notice Denver until he’s settling in next to me. “I don’t think any of you understand what low-key means. There is nothing casual about a fucking make-your-own-sundae bar.”
“The flower girl is very demanding, and her Uncle Austin has a hard time saying no.”
He holds a white bowl in front of my face, backdropped by the cutest dimpled grin I’ve ever seen, and I start questioning if it’s too much to tell him I love him because of some ice cream.
“Butthe upside is you can have your senior citizen ice cream. Now”—he digs around in the bowl with the spoon, getting the perfect scoop—“for some ungodly reason, they don’t have Neapolitan. Something to fix for our wedding, clearly. Um, but I got all three flavors separately, and topped it with walnuts.”
Our wedding.He breezed past it as if we’re alreadyengaged and actively planning a wedding. I half-expect to look down and see a ring magically appear on my finger.
He stares at me expectantly, holding the spoon in front of my face so I can do the taste test. I swallow, unable to stop a small moan in the back of my throat. “You’re the best. That is seriously good.”
Gesturing with his head to the sleeping baby in my arms, he says, “That looks good on you.”
The words might as well have been a semi truck crashing into me. I choke on my own spit, frantically reaching for a glass of water left over from dinner.
“Now you sound like my grandma anytime I’m around small children. Talk about a demanding woman.”
