Page 101 of When the Smoke Clears

I think I like this foulmouthed version of Everleigh Reichart. She yanks my hair like a punishment as I kiss along her neck to the swell of her breasts while my hands focus on unhooking her bra. She releases it from her arms and tosses it aside before lifting my shirt up my torso. When it’s over my head, we kiss again.

A little harder.

A little longer.

She’s right, this is stupid, even for my IQ, which I imagine is already below a hundred on my best day. I guide her legs to straddle my lap, then I palm her perky breasts, breaking the kiss to suck her nipple into my mouth. It’s hard and warm. A dark-pink pebble of perfection. The only thing more perfect might be the way she’s grinding her pelvis against my erection.

“Why do you turn me into a stupid girl every single time?” she murmurs.

I flip her onto her back, her dark hair fanning out in all directions. She traps her bottom lip between her teeth as I slide her panties down her legs. Sirens blare in my head, warning me to stop as I tug at my belt buckle and kick off my jeans and briefs after retrieving a condom from my wallet.

“Why do you bring me to my knees every single time?”

Her hands thread through my hair as I kiss my way up her inner thigh. “You’re going to break my heart again,” she whispers.

I pause, lifting my gaze to hers. Is it a question? I already told her as much.

“Break it,” she murmurs, eyes closing, fingers tightening around my hair while guiding me between her legs. Her body bows when my tongue teases her clit as I slide two fingers inside her. It’s like I’ve spent eleven years trying to satisfy a craving with all the wrong women. I reach up and palm her breast, and her hand covers mine, as if she’s afraid I’ll stop touching her.

A stuttered “Oh . . .” falls from her lips, and her knees collapse against my head.

That was quick.

I chuckle while sliding my fingers out of her and kissing my way up her body.

“Are you,” she says breathlessly, “laughing at me?”

“You’re a hair trigger, Dr. Reichart.” I tease her nipple for a few seconds before kissing my way to her neck, grabbing the back of her knee, and spreading her wider to accommodate my body.

“I’m efficient,” she says, giving me a vulnerable smile.

Her breath hitches when the head of my cock pushes into her.

“God, Will.” Her head lolls to the side, and I suck her earlobe. “That’s good. So . . . good.”

I pull out and drive back into her all the way, setting a slow, hard pace. My lips claim hers. I love her hungry lips and the rest of her body.

Her mind.

Her dry humor.

Her innocence.

Her unexpectedness.

I just hate how we ended eleven years earlier.

“Slow down,” she whispers, teasing my nape.

I pause, lifting my head to look her in the eye. Am I hurting her?

“I don’t want it to end,” she says, tears filling her eyes.

“Everything ends.” I kiss her.

She pushes my chest, and I roll onto my back. Her leg slides over me, and she straddles my pelvis, my cock in her hand as she guides it between her legs and slowly sinks onto it, eyes closing for a few seconds. Who am I kidding? I don’t want this to end either.

I grip her hips and take a mental picture because I have never seen anything so sexy in my life as the woman she’s become. A tiny voice in my head taunts me, wondering if some other man helped her get here.