Page 22 of Full Throttle

“I should have.”

I tightened my hold on her. “Stop blaming yourself for his actions. You didn’t know.”

“She lived in Niagara Falls. I lived in Toronto. The other girlfriend was in Belleville. He had a large territory that he routinely traveled. He made sure to have company everywhere. His schedule was pretty set, so no one questioned his absences. He played it and us very well.”

“And after that?”

“It took me a long time to trust again. The next guy was an absolute player. Charming. Handsome. And a lying sack of shit. After that, I gave up and concentrated on Hannah.”

I chuckled. “Well, I am neither married nor a liar.” I pressed a kiss to her head. “Nor a player.”

“I know,” she admitted. “It was my own insecurities. It seemed every guy I dated or was introduced to had an agenda.”

“Oh, I have one, Cherry G. I want you. I want you in my life. I want to be part of yours. That is my whole agenda, and I am happy for you to know it.”

She snuggled closer. “I kinda like that.”

“Good.” I lifted her chin and captured her mouth. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

I woke up in the early morning light, Cherry asleep beside me, her hand on my chest. All night, we stayed in physical contact. Snuggled close under the blankets. At times, she was draped over me. Others, I spooned her. But even if we rolled apart, somehow we touched, our hands clasping or resting against the other person. I shifted, studying her in the low light. Asleep, she looked sweet—soft and vulnerable. All traits I knew she carried in her but would never allow the world to see. She was proud, independent, and strong. I liked all those things about her. The hidden parts and the ones she let the world view. She was complex. Alluring. Like a puzzle I needed to solve. I planned on doing so and enjoying every moment of it.

I was sorry for the bad times she’d been through. The assholes who’d hurt her. I was determined to show her I was in this for the long haul. From the moment I met her, I was captivated. And that intensity hadn’t worn off now that we had slept together. It had, in fact, grown stronger. I wanted to be that man for her. The one she could trust and rely on.

I pushed a stray curl behind her ear, grinning as another fell and took its place on her cheek. Her curls were as soft as I’d thought they would be. I loved how they felt fisted in my hand, tickling my thighs as she rode me, her head bent back as she cried out in desire.

I had never experienced such passion with a woman until last night—the kind that drove all rational thought from your mind and focused your attention on a single image. The person in front of you. Everything in me had wanted her pleasure. Her cries. Her mouth and body. Her whispered pleas and whimpers of desire. Nothing but complete bliss and being inside her could cool my ardor.

Even that hadn’t been enough. Once I’d had her, I wanted her again. I woke her three times in the night to sate my desire.

And still, it raged.

I lifted up on my elbow, watching her. I traced a finger down her creamy skin, tugging at the blanket covering her. I tried not to grin at the marks on her neck, the traces of love bites that lingered there and on her breasts. The swollen pink of her mouth from mine. I felt the slight sting from her fingernails embedded in my skin at the height of our passion. The ache growing in my cock at the sight of her resting beside me, unknowingly waking the animal in me simply by being there, close, sweet, and inviting.

I lowered my head, sucking a nipple into my mouth. It grew taut and wet under my tongue, and a breathy sigh escaped Cherry’s mouth, the air moving my hair. She murmured my name, curling her hand into my hair as I turned my attention to her other breast, giving it the same treatment as I rolled her wet nipple between my fingers. I rose over her, settling between her legs.

Her eyes were still closed, but her body responded, opening to me like a flower. Her heat surrounded me as I slid my cock along her wet pussy, watching her the whole time. Her eyes blinked open, widening when she saw me, but she wrapped her legs around my hips, drawing me in. I slid inside her, groaning at how right it felt. How right we felt.

Without a word, I kissed her, moving in long, slow passes. She made a strangled noise in her throat, her arms holding me tight. I opened my eyes, meeting her wide gaze. I kept moving, our gazes never faltering, our mouths staying together. I slid my hands along her arms, lifting them over her head, holding them with one hand as I gripped her ass with the other, moving faster, my need for her becoming intense. She gasped as I changed the angle, and she began to breathe faster.

Everything narrowed down to the feel of where we were joined. The connection between us. The spiral of ecstasy and the heat of our bodies as we moved together. She stiffened, her fingers crushing mine as she orgasmed, the clutch of her sending me over the edge. I was free-falling, not caring if I hit the ground. Pure, unadulterated elation flowed through me. It wound around us, a fire that could not be stopped.

Until we were nothing but ashes.

And I was okay with that.

We dozed, woke again, showering away the desire of the night from our bodies but not our minds. Cherry was oddly shy again, which made me smile. The running commentary began as I made coffee as she perched on one of the high stools by the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. My cupboards were pretty, the layout nice. She loved the wooden floors and the old crown molding.

“So charming,” she stated, taking a sip of her coffee, allowing me the chance to speak.

“Charming is one word,” I snorted. “Add in the leaking pipes, drafty windows, and squeaking floors, and I can think of another one.”

“But that lovely tub.”

I met her gaze. “Really, Cherry G, do I look like a tub guy?”

“I suppose not. But one never knows.”

“I think after last night—and this morning—you know me pretty well. At least in one sense.” I winked at her.