“Why?”
“Well you know how it is. I was afraid I might be over-sexed. Turns out, I’m perfectly normal. I only think of making love once, maybe twice, a minute. C’mon, then. Hurry it up. Times a wastin’.”
I jog to keep up and once we’re outside, he speeds up more. By the time we stop by our car I have to bend over to catch my breath.
Once I’m no longer wheezing, he lifts me to stand, captures me against the vehicle, and kisses me senseless.
“Sugar. I need you so bad.” The dark circles under his eyes remind me he hasn’t slept well and I understand. I can’t imagine him being kidnapped and me tasked with finding him.
Like him, I wouldn’t’ve stopped looking until every stone in the whole fucking world was overturned.
We kiss, ignoring people coming and going, jet fumes, and don’t stop until someone opens their window and shouts, “Get a room, you two.”
Suds grins. “Good idea.”
“But we’re only thirty minutes from home.” My clit, rubbing against my damp panties, begs for immediate gratification but my gray matter is working.
Unlike Roarke and Grayson Patten, we’re not billionaires and hotels are expensive.
Gunning the engine, he burns rubber, stops, and pays for parking. From there, he darts in and out of traffic while I grip the seat. I’d tell him to slow down but I’m the one that insisted we make love at home.
In record breaking time, we make it home alive. With the car illegally parked, he runs around the hood, and throws me over his shoulder.
“Let me down.” Laughing and upside down, I smack his ass as he dashes up the stairs and into our apartment where he sets me on the table.
Thinking we can make it to the loft, I slip off the edge. Growling, he grabs my hand and pulls me to him with his hands threading through my hair.
While we kiss, I unzip his leather jacket, tug it away, then find the hem of his shirt. He takes a quick breath, rips it over his head, and steps between my legs.
“Sugar?”
“Go, dammit.” I don’t need or want explanations or apologies. I want him.
Green light granted, he yanks down my jeans and I kick them off. My hoodie and top land nearby on the floor. Failing with the latches on my bra, he tugs it to my waist.
Both naked, he lifts me onto the table and spreads my thighs. His cock knows the way and when the tip hits my slick want his eyes widen. He slides in and I wrap my legs around him. We fuck until the table’s edge becomes unbearably sharp on my ass.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.” With a sucking noise, he pulls out and bends me over.
My chest on the table top, he reaches one hand to my nub while the other rests on the center of my back.
As he moves, I clutch the sides of the table, soaring toward orgasmic bliss.
“Suds… Holy fuck.” My clit twitches and blooms, warning of an enormous tsunami about to break open.
“Sam.” He groans, swells, and as his tip hits my backbone, my inner muscles clamp around him.
“Please…” I arch up for more.
A coarse fingertip finds my perfect spot, his body tightens and when he bursts apart, lights explode behind my eyelids.
Wave after wave of excruciating pleasure sends me to heaven while his cock milks every last spasm from me.
“Mmmm.” He pulls out and I just lay there, braindead on our kitchen-slash-conference table.
“Sugar?” After visiting the bathroom, he puts his nose to mine, reminding me of Cat.
