My thumb circled her clit while my fingers kept up a rhythm I’d perfected over three decades of loving her,
“God, yes, Teddy—right there,” she gasped, the wet sounds of my fingers pumping in and out her body mixing with her increasingly desperate whimpers and the soft strains of “Santa Baby” to form an erotic soundtrack I could listen to forever. “D-don’t stop, please don’t stop?—”
Fat chance of that. I had no intention of stopping. I’d die between her thighs if she’d let me.
The taste of her, sweet and salty, fucked with my brain so hard that I almost lost the plot for a second—almost forgot that I was supposed to keep her on edge, not just get myself off on the needy sounds being ripped from her throat.
I doubled down, focused entirely on her pleasure, on giving her what she needed. My shoulder protested the angle of my hand, but I pushed past it.
“That’s my girl.”
Her breathing turned ragged, the little gasps coming faster now. I could read her body like a book I’d memorized cover to cover—knew she was right on the edge, just needed that final push.
I sucked her clit between my lips and hummed, the vibration sending her flying.
“Teddy—oh God, I’m—” Kelsey’s body locked up before she began pulsing around my fingers in shuddering waves. She bit the back of her hand to try to silence her scream, but I caught it anyway, etching the sound into my memory for the inevitable moment she was gone again.
I kept going, drawing it out until she was shaking, trying to push my head away from oversensitivity. Only then did I pull back and let her catch her breath.
My knees cracked and popped when I finally stood, reminding me that I wasn’t twenty anymore. Still, the sight of Kelsey sprawled across my kitchen island—flour in her hair, dough stuck to her elbow, a star-shaped cookie cutter somehow wedged under her left butt cheek—made every ounce of pain worth it.
For the first time in years, she looked wrecked—in a good way.Satisfied, maybe even peaceful. For a split second, I let myself believe I could give her that steadiness again, that I could be the man who made her world safe instead of dangerous.
A full minute passed before sense returned to her eyes, and a slow grin spread across her lips. “You trying to kill me, Riggs?”
“Nah,” I said, brushing flour from her shoulder as I helped her sit up. “Just helping you relax. Not to yank my own dick or anything, but I’m pretty good at it. I mean—” I waved my free hand over her body. “—the results clearly speak for themselves.”
She rolled her eyes at the comment and pulled me down for a deep and dirty kiss. I let her taste herself on my tongue, let her hands drift under my shirt, let her feel every inch of me straining against my old Levi’s.
“Speaking of your dick,” she said, squeezing me through the denim.
I caught her wrist with a barely restrained groan. “This wasn’t about me.”
Her brow furrowed. “But?—”
“Didn’t do it to get something back, Kels,” I insisted. “Shit, I get off on getting you off. Always have”
“I know you do,” she whispered, her voice cracking like it did when she was about to cry. “But I wanna make you feel good.”
“This was for you.” I lifted her arm, pressing my lips to the inside of her wrist. “Just for you. You don’t owe me anything.”
I meant it, too. Needed her to understand this wasn’t some transaction where she had to balance the books. “I wanted to do that. Wanted to watch you come apart. That’s all I need.”
Kelsey stared at me like I’d grown a second head, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Since when does Theodore Riggs turn down a blow job?”
I held her gaze, my jaw working as I tried to find the right words. “Since I realized we’ve been using sex as a Band-Aid for years. And I’m trying real hard not to fall back into old habits.”
Her expression shifted, something vulnerable flickering across her face before she shuttered it. “Right. Old habits.”
“Not saying I don’t want it,” I added, my thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. “Christ, Kels, I’m so hard right now I can barelythink straight. But I don’t wanna go there unless it means something.”
Not if it’s just another way to avoid talking about the hard shit.
“Teddy—”
The timer came to the rescue once again, its shrill beeps saving us from whatever emotional minefield we’d been about to walk into.
I adjusted myself again and tried to think about literally anything other than how good her hand had felt for those few brief seconds. It would have been so easy to give in to what she was offering. Pretend it was just sex. Just two bodies remembering what they were good at.
