I shook my head. “I’m on the pill, over forty and haven’t had sex in a year.”
He chuckled, and then his lips were back on my neck. It had only taken one gasp for him to realize my neck was sensitive, and then he made a study of working it from every angle, squeezing every drop of pleasure he could give me from just a small patch of skin.
He ran his rough palm up over my bare hip and around to caress my breast, first stroking, then teasing my nipple until I arched my back to give him better access.
I reached behind me and grabbed his ass, urging his hips forward, wanting him inside me.
He pulled his hand from my chest, and I felt his cockhead notch against my entrance. “Ready?” he murmured against my temple.
I nodded and pushed my hips back. I was so ready—ready for my post-divorce life to start. Ready for something to go right in a year where everything had been harder than it needed to be, and most of all ready to be thoroughly fucked by the sexy, stubborn mountain man lying behind me.
Chapter Twelve
Grant
Ihad never been lonely, damn it. I didn’t need much human interaction to get by. Then I’d had Walt and Tuck, and that had been enough. More than enough some days. But as I lay there with the bare skin of a beautiful woman under me, I could admit that I had missed this kind of human interaction. Not getting off—or not just that—but touch. Warmth. Hands and lips and other, more interesting places.
What unsettled me wasn’t the wanting, it was how fast the wanting had rewritten the rules I’d lived by for years. How easily my body had made room for her, like it had been waiting for permission I’d never planned on giving.
I hadn’t gotten laid in way too long. I should have been desperate for it. Instead, I couldn’t get enough of kissing her, of hearing the little sounds she made when I found a sensitive spot. I could have lain there all night, the cool comforter against my skin, the subtle smell of her shampoo invading my nose. ButI had also been hard for an alarming amount of time, and we were both getting impatient.
I positioned myself at her entrance, and when she gave me the green light—followed by a not-so-subtle push of her hips—I sank into her wet heat. We both froze, our groans filling the room. I stayed buried deep inside her, feeling my pulse beat in my cock. I ran my hand over one smooth ass cheek, then around to her chest, finding her nipple already pebbled and ready for my touch. I squeezed the little nub between my thumb and forefinger, and as her breath caught in her throat, I started to move my hips. Little thrusts at first, trying not to lose it before she did.
“More,” she moaned, leaning her head back, meeting my lips in a sloppy kiss.
I did as I was told, pulling out until only the head of my cock remained inside her, then thrusting back in hard and fast. Her mouth gaped beneath mine, and I repeated the motion. Sweat formed along my hairline and between my shoulder blades. My leg started to cramp as I lay on my side, forcing my hips forward harder and faster just to keep those sexy little noises coming from her lips.
The muscle ache was a welcome distraction as heat built at the base of my spine, licking down my legs and threatening to make this over before I was ready for it. I bit my lip hard enough to hurt and kept moving. She took my hand in her smaller one and guided it between her open thighs. I slid my fingers through her wet folds and pressed gently against her clit. She shuddered, and I repeated the motion, circling her clit a few times before pressing gently again. I watched her reactions, letting them distract me from how my balls tightened against my body, knowing I was on borrowed time.
“Are you going to come for me?” I asked, bringing my lips back to the spot on her neck I knew she loved and thrusting harder.
“Yes,” she cried.
The muscles of her back tensed against my chest, and I kept every movement in sync until she cried out and shook. Her inner muscles hugged my length, and I couldn’t wait another moment. I froze as deep inside her as I could go and pumped rope after rope of cum. The waves kept coming, and I forced myself to keep working her clit through the haze of my own orgasm.
Finally, her shaking stopped, and I pulled my hand away. My own aftershocks lasted a little longer before they finally faded. We lay there with me still buried inside her, knowing I needed to get cleaned up but it was hard to convince myself to move. I was dog-tired, satisfied in a way that should have been freaking me out, and reluctant to let reality pop our little bubble.
Finally, I slid out of her and went to get her a cloth. When I returned, she hadn’t moved. I lay down behind her again and pulled her to my chest. She hummed sleepily, nestling closer like this was something real—like we were working toward love and happily ever after rather than rivals on a temporary truce. Rather than two people who were maybe more starved for touch and company than either of us cared to admit.
I stared into the dark and wondered when exactly things had tipped from simple into dangerous. When wanting her had stopped feeling optional. I didn’t know what tomorrow would look like, only that I’d already crossed a line I’d sworn I wouldn’t, and part of me didn’t regret it nearly enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Kara
The next morning, I woke up under the weight of a very large, well-muscled arm. What I assumed was Grant’s cock pressed against my back, half hard, and he was snoring lightly in my ear. I was warm, comfortable, and naked, I realized. It all just confirmed that what had happened the night before was real. Less than two days into our feud over Uncle Walt’s cabin, and we were wrapped up in each other’s arms. It seemed too good to be true, which should have been more concerning than it was. I lay there longer than necessary, cataloging the weight of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way my body had already decided this was safe even as my brain spiraled.
My ex, Chad, and I had started out strong and stayed that way for a long time. When we drifted apart, I had been willing to fight for it, and he hadn’t. I found out later it was because his eyes had started to wander. Such a cliché. That, more thananything, had broken my heart. Not the cheating itself, but how easily he’d given up on us, like I was something he could set down and forget about.
When I had served him with divorce papers, I hadn’t expected the response I got. He had been furious.
He hadn’t wanted me, or he wouldn’t have cheated. He hadn’t wanted to work on what we had. Yet he didn’t want me to walk away either.
I wasn’t sure if I had wounded his pride, or if he had regrets about his affairs. Either way, he made every single step of the divorce miserable for both of us. Lawyer fees ate through my savings as he fought me over every single item. He demanded to see every credit card statement, rent receipt—hell, I couldn’t buy a pack of gum without having his lawyer question where I got the ninety-five cents. It had been a slow, grinding punishment for daring to walk away.
It was finally over, and I was free. The first thing I did was stumble headfirst into a grumpy mountain man and let him get under my skin.
To be fair, Grant was nothing like my ex. Then again, my ex was nothing like my ex either. He had changed for the worse, and I had finally got the nerve up to walk away.
