I gather her close, and she hugs me tight, like any space between us is too much.
“That’s why I had to see you,” she whispers into my neck, her lips moving against my skin. “Sophia said you were here. And as soon as you opened the door, I knew. I was home.”
I kiss her forehead, her temple, and then her lips again, slow and reverent, promising her something I’ll never take back. “You are home, Lex.”
“Will you stay with me tonight?”
“As long as you need.” Forever sounds good, but I won’t put that on her right now. Instead, I help her slip back into her jacket and grab mine. Turning off the music and lights, I lock up and take her hand in mine as we make the short walk to the cottage.
My heartbeat intensifies the moment the door closes behind us. It’s fraught with tense longing, the culmination of almost two weeks apart and nothing standing between us anymore. We tear off our coats and boots and barely make it out of the foyer before Chaz’s mouth is on mine, and I’m up against a wall.
I grasp the hem of his shirt and lift it. He pulls it the rest of the way off, and I take in the splendor of his bare torso. He’s bigand inked, strong and broad. I run my hands over his shoulders, down his biceps, sliding them across his pecs and around his nipples. I move down his abs, tracing all the tats. He watches, his chest heaving. The scent of him fills my senses—autumn spices and pheromones.
When I undo the top button of his jeans, he grabs my wrists, stopping me.
“Let’s slow things down, Blue.”
“I don’t want to go slow. I want to make love.”
“I make love to you every time I touch you.”
“I know, but I want the full thing, fourth base, home run, whatever you call it. I want you inside of me—like now!”
He grins, lifts my hand, and slides one of my fingers into his mouth, only to pull it out and slide it back in again. “I can make you feel good without going all the way.”
That’s for sure. I feel that soft, wet slide down to my core and all over me. But I want more. “You don’t want to?”
“Baby, you have no idea how much I want to.”
I eye the bulge in his jeans. “I have some idea. So why aren’t we?”
“For one…” he nibbles the sensitive underside of my wrist, his hot gaze on me, “you’ve had a rough night, and I’d never want you to regret our first time. And two, I don’t have protection.”
I love that he doesn’t. He’s been true to his word:Sex isn’t the prize. You are.He’s proven that to me, time and time again. That’s how I know that I’m ready.
“I’ve got an IUD. Protection is covered,” I say on a half-moan as his tongue flicks against my skin. “As for regret, I won’t have any. I know what I want—what I need. You. Inside me. I want that ultimate connection. I’m not in a vulnerable state. I’m aching for you, Chaz.”
In the next instant, my feet are swept off the floor. He lifts me in the air, hauling me over his shoulder. My shriek of surprisemelts into aroused laughter as he secures me with a large hand on my butt and carries me up the stairs. Sexy as hell.
He deposits me on the bedroom floor and switches on the lamp. No sex with the lights off for him. Returning to me, he cradles my face and kisses me until I’m breathless—weightless—until I’m nearly limp against him. His hands skim down my neck, over my shoulders, and to my waist. He whips off my sweater with a quick jerk.
He takes in my blushing pink bra with tiny white flowers, and his smile breaks through the heat before he removes it and feasts on my breasts. He kisses the curves and sucks my nipples into damp points. It’s a miracle that I can still stand with the way my legs have turned to water.
He divests me of my jeans next and caresses the backs of my thighs, the curve of my ass, around to my quads. He squeezes the muscles and strokes the skin. Then, he slips his finger beneath the edge of my matching panties.
My own hands don’t stay idle. I ease down the zipper over the bulge of his erection. He groans, his fingers dipping inside my cleft and eliciting desperate sounds from me.
“Christ, I love how wet and juicy you get. So ready to take my cock.”
My breath quickens, and I shove the denim down. It drops to his ankles, landing on the floor with a soft thud. His boxer briefs are light gray. A spot of pre-come darkens the stretchy fabric, where the outline of his mushroom tip is evident. “Looks like I got you wet too.”
“Baby, my cock is salivating for you.”
I lick my lips, cupping his weight in my palm and tracing him through the stretched cotton. I lower the front, and like a python uncoiling, he springs free—hard and huge. I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and wrap my hand around his girth. I swallow hisgroans as I stroke my palm up and down the silky smoothness and over the damp, bulbous head.
He tosses me onto the bed as if I’m light as air and makes quick work of kicking off his jeans and socks before approaching like a hurricane. His hands and mouth are everywhere. He drags off my panties, yanking me to the edge of the bed, and hooks my legs over his shoulders. Spread open, he whips me into delirium, teasing me mercilessly with his fingers and tongue, snatching the quickest orgasm right out of me.
When I’m sliding down the other side, he shucks off his underwear and moves me up on the bed.
