The pressure builds. Her slick heat, the way she whimpers with each thrust, and her unwavering gaze are so fucking hot, I can’t hold on.
“Raelynn…” I manage.
She slides a hand between us, her palm skimming over her stomach and down…lower.
The quiet, keening cries turn to moans as she starts to play with herself. “God. I’m close, Nash…”
Thank fuck. It takes everything in me not to give in right now. My balls draw up tight, and my dick swells until her inner walls threaten to strangle me.
“Come for me, sweetness.” I swivel my hips once, and the motion is enough to send her flying. Her entire body bucks against the mattress. The sight of her lost to her own pleasure is intoxicating.
With a shout, I give in, thrusting until I have nothing left, and all I can do is collapse onto my side, taking her with me.
Chapter Eleven
Raelynn
Nash slides from the bed. Relief washes over me, making my skin tingle. He’ll leave now. I’ll call him a Lyft. Hell, I’ll drive him back home if he wants. Even if my muscles do feel like overcooked spaghetti.
The floorboards creak. Is he leaving without saying a word? I don’t know why the thought makes my heart ache. Pillow talk is for people in a relationship. Not whatever we are.
Friends with benefits? Barely.
Strangers with chemistry? Closer.
Something in between?
I can hear him moving around downstairs. I should care what he’s doing. But instead, I let my eyelids drift closed and pull the blankets up to cover my chest. It’s been so long since anyone touched me. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.
I’m almost sad this has to be a one-time deal.
Heavy footsteps on the stairs startle me awake, and I sit up. Nash ambles back into the room, still completely naked, carrying a glass of water and one of my washcloths. He sinks down onto the bed with a sheepish smile, then pulls back the blankets.
“What the hell are you doin’?” I ask as he swipes the warm cloth over my inner thighs.
He freezes. “Taking care of you?”
“Why?” I snatch the cloth from his hand, suddenly feeling terribly exposed, despite how many times he made me come tonight. “I can take care of myself, Nash.”
“Did I say you couldn’t?” With a sigh, he scoots back, then grabs his briefs off the floor. Disappointment weighs me down when he pulls them on. He’ll leave now, and that’s for the best. At least that’s what I tell myself.
But after a beat, he skirts the bed and slides under the covers next to me. “Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, Raelynn. It doesn’t make you weak. Just…human.”
Conflict churns in his eyes, like he’s the one who needs tending, and I brush my fingers over the thick scar at his temple. “What happened here?”
Nash shies away from my touch, his gaze pinned to a spot on the wall behind me. “Car accident when I was a kid.”
Liar.
“When?” I ask. He wants to tell me. Hell, I think he needs to tell me. But if I press him too hard, he’ll shut down.
He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging the sandy locks down to cover the old wound. “You know when.”
Shit.
“Fourteen. When your sister died.” I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate for something to talk about that won’t trigger his grief—or mine—until he settles closer to me and links our fingers over his heart.
“We were all together. I don’t remember what happened. Just Mom screaming. Dad…” He swallows hard and looks away. “I should have died too.”
