“That,” I rasped, still gasping like I’d run uphill several times, “was quite something.”
He laughed and nuzzled my neck. “I agree.”
Smiling, I stroked his shoulders, then down his arms, loving the feel of his warm skin over hard muscles. My fingers stopped on a bumpy, six-inch-long scar on his left biceps, covered by a chaos of swirling ink.
I frowned. “What happened here?”
“An accident.” He grasped my hands, kissing my knuckles.
Oh. With the violent sport he played, I wasn’t surprised. I shifted to get off him, then stilled. “Uh, we have a situation…” I glanced at our locked groins, my cleft wrapped around his thickness, and heat flooded my face. He smirked now, and I scrunched my nose. “I mean, once I get off you, I’m going to be dripping cum.”
He gave an amused chuckle. “Give a guy a moment to get his breath back, Blue, and I’d figure out something. In the meantime, this is good where we are.”
“You’re still inside me. Why wouldn’t it be good?”
“How can you still be talking?” He nipped my chin, and I squeaked, yanking back, then I bit his lip. He grasped my hair and kissed me again, and his cock stirred inside me.
“Really?” I mumbled against his devouring mouth.
“We both seem to like the same thing. C’mon.” Smirking, he rose, still keeping us joined, and his cock grew firmer. “Does this help?” He thrust his hips, and ripples of desire resurged, sweeping from my core and spreading out. “No spillage.”
God, I sucked in a breath, had no idea how I managed a sarcastic, “Yeah. Heaps.”
He grunted out a laugh. “Shower first, then we have to get going.”
“Back to weeding,” I groaned, dropping my head on his shoulder. “Slave driver.”
“But look at the rewards?” he teased, angling his head and peering at me, and when I scowled, he kissed me again, a gentle brush of lips. “You don’t have to do anything, Blue. I just want you with me.”
My heart tripped, and my throat tightened as it lodged there.
Later, I’d deal with my chaotic emotions for this man. For now, I just wanted to enjoy this, and him.
* * *
After our shower and more of War’s tormenting sexy time in there, I finally managed to drag on sweats, because wearing jeans was so not happening, not with my core a little sensitive. I pulled on a tank top, then made my way to the living room.
I found him dressed in jeans and a tee, waiting in the TV lounge, remote in hand, watching the sports news on ESPN.
“I’m ready,” I murmured.
He glanced my way, switched off the TV, dropped the remote on the couch, and made his way to me. “You coming in sweats?”
I frowned. “Why? We’re going to the beach house, right?”
“No. I have to meet with the team working on the commercial. They want to go through a few things and probably do some photoshoots, etc., first.”
“Really?” I smiled. “Wow.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Yes, really. Why so surprised?”
“I’m not.” I lifted my shoulder in a little shrug. Then grinning, I said, “I thought you’d just stand there, no shirt, holding your hockey stick, and smirk.”
His brow creased in confusion.
I strolled back to the couch in the living room and pulled out the Cosmo from my tote, knew it would come in handy. “Like this.” I found the page and flashed it at him. “So, everyone would drool over your abs.”
He huffed a laugh. “Not my choice, but they paid me a lot for that.”
