He slides two fingers inside me, and I see stars. His other hand is on my hip, urging me forward, and his cock makes contact with my clit through his trunks. Every muscle in my body grows more and more tense with every stroke of his fingers, every roll of my hips, every slide of his cock against my clit.
My breaths are uneven as my orgasm hovers just out of my reach—so close I can almost grasp it—if only...
“Atta fucking girl. Ride me just like that.”
“Fuck, Tripp, please. Please.”
He moans. “You’re perfect, honey. You look so damn pretty like this, so close to coming that you’re shaking and begging.”
I whimper—my whole body on fire and trembling with how tightly strung I am. His fingers curl inside me, and my vision goes black. Every nerve ending in my body fires as I explode and spasm around him.
He grips my hip, urging me to ride out my orgasm, and I do. The sensations roll through me as I keep moving against him, riding out the waves. Beneath me, Tripp shudders—his hips stuttering, jaw clenched tight—as he drops his head to my shoulder with a rough, muffled curse.
I still on his lap, wrung out and breathless. "Did you just…?"
"Come in my pants like a teenager?" he says, breathing heavily. "Yeah, I warned you."
My breath catches in my throat.
He just came from nothing more than my body rocking against his, from the feeling of me falling apart in his arms.And God, the power of that rushes through me like a tidal wave crashing against the shore and destroying everything in its path. All my insecurities, all my uncertainty is completely eradicated.
I’ve never felt sexier or more wanted than I feel inthismoment, and it’s mind-altering.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah?” I ask, still a bit breathless.
“I think you might just be the death of me.”
I snort and readjust the top of my bathing suit.
“Make me a list.”
I give him a blank stare.
“I want to know every dirty fantasy you have, so I can make every single one of them a reality.”
I have no doubt in my mind that Tripp will fulfill every one of my sordid fantasies, but I need him to know we’re on the same page.
I lift my pinky up between us. “Promise me this won’t make things weird between us. This is just a friend helping a friend check things off a list.”
Something indecipherable flickers behind his eyes, but then his pinky latches onto mine. “Promise.”
My lips curve in a smile. “Saddle up, Casanova. You might be surprised by what I have in mind.”
“I have no doubt I’ll be absolutely shocked and intrigued by the dirty fantasies floating around in your pretty little head.”
Last Promises
Tripp
Five Years Ago
My dad stirs in his recliner—the special lift one we bought him when he couldn't stand up on his own anymore—and cracks an eye open, face thinner than last time I saw him.
“Tripp, when did you get home?”
My throat grows tight at how weak his voice sounds. Watching the man who has been my hero slowly waste away and atrophy from a disease with no cure is a nightmare.
