CHAPTER 15
Lauren
I told myself we’d made the right choice. I breathed in the cool air from the freezer, hoping it might strengthen my resolve. If only he would stop looking at me as if I was his favorite dessert. If only I could forget he wanted me.
I closed the freezer and focused on scooping the ice cream into two bowls. If I’d needed to, I couldn’t have said how many times we’d snuck off like naughty children to indulge in sweets together. It wasn’t so much that anyone would have denied us the treats, but it always felt like a guilty pleasure.
Just like wanting Graham did.
There wasn’t a part of Graham I didn’t love, hadn’t spent most of my life loving. What had started as a crush had grown into a yearning-filled friendship and was changing again. I didn’t know if I could stop it or if I even wanted to.
I put a spoon in his bowl and turned. He was standing closer than I thought and I accidentally hit him in the chest with the bowl.
He grabbed my hand to steady it and fire shot through me. His eyes were burning with the same need I was fighting. I licked my bottom lip and swayed toward him. “Graham—”
His breathing became ragged. “I—We—Fuck me.”
Whether he said it as an expletive or an order, I didn’t know, but I welcomed either. He put the bowl on the counter and pulled me to him. I wound my arms around his neck as he devoured my mouth. It was the kiss from the mountainside and more because there was no reason we had to stop.
There was no patience or tenderness in our caresses. He roughly slid his hands beneath my sweater, undid my bra and cupped my breasts. I arched against his touch. Heaven.
Graham was a feast for my hungry hands: the bulging muscles of his shoulders, wide chest, tight six-pack. Yes, I had touched him before, but not sober. This was an entirely different level of hot. My body shuddered from the intensity of need overtaking me.
My hands went to his belt. I wanted to finish what we’d started the day before and I wanted it right then.
He growled into my ear. “Easy, Peanut. I want you so fucking much, but I’ll make it good for you this time. So good.”
I should have told him the first time was my fault, but he was kissing me again and the last thing I wanted to do was talk or cry. He pulled my shirt up, breaking off the kiss just long enough to whip it over my head. I dropped my bra to the floor and yanked at his shirt, but he was too tall for me to repeat his move.
He chuckled against my lips and shed his shirt. His chest was warm against my excited nipples. I writhed against him, loving how he responded with a guttural sound of pleasure.
This was the Graham of my fantasies. I ran my hands over every inch he’d bared until it was no longer enough. I needed more.
As if he came to the same conclusion, he undid my jeans and with a thumb looped on either side, lowered them with my underwear. I stepped out of both, then used my feet to rid myself of my socks. Naked didn’t feel vulnerable, not with Graham—it felt like a promise.
He held me back from him. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
“So are you.” I didn’t care if that sounded stupid. He was beautiful. Inside and out. Someday, somehow, I would prove it to him. He deserved a much better life than the one that had been given to him.
I looked away as my mind began to race. We might not be together long enough for me to prove anything to him at all. He already thought sex between us was a bad idea.
What if by not respecting his decision I made our friendship impossible?
Oh, no, I cannot get emotional and start to cry again. This was not our last time together. It didn’t have to be goodbye.
Graham had already reassured me on those fears.
He took my face between his hands and raised my eyes back to his. “Hey.”
There was no time to compose myself. I met his gaze, blinked and cursed myself for ruining my second chance with him as well. If I couldn’t hold myself together, maybe I wasn’t what he needed. I hated that I wasn’t stronger.
He ran a thumb over my mouth gently. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. Do you want to stop?”
“God, no,” I breathed. “I want this so much. I’m sorry.”
The understanding look he gave me was a familiar expression. He’d always celebrated my best and somehow understood my worst. “What are you sorry about?”
“I can’t turn my thoughts off. They start racing around and I get all tangled up. You didn’t do anything wrong last time. It was me. It’s always me.”
He pulled me to his chest and tucked me beneath his chin, simply holding me for a long time. Against my hair he murmured, “There is nothing wrong with you. Not one damn thing.”
I nodded for his benefit rather than because I believed him.
“Look at me.” He ran one hand roughly through my hair while his other slid down my stomach to my sex. He dipped a finger into me and groaned. “You’re so wet. Tell me what you want.”
I raised my eyes back to his and gasped as his confident fingers found my clit and stroked it with a rhythm that sent heat rushing through me. “I want you.”
His hand tightened in my hair and he arched my head back. “Not good enough,” he growled and thrusted a thick finger upward into my tight sex. “Say it. I want to hear that sweet mouth of yours crying out your filthiest desires. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
I nodded, holding on to his shoulders to steady myself. He bent me further back and took one of my nipples between his teeth and gave it a deliciously painful nip. He pumped his finger in and out, circling my clit with his thumb each time. His tongue replaced his teeth, circling and flicking my excited nub.
Then he paused and raised his head. “What do you want?”
Barely able to breathe, I said, “I want you to fuck me.”
His hand began its talented caress again. His mouth loved my other breast and I shuddered with pleasure. “Don’t stop,” I demanded.
“You like that? What else do you like?”
“Anything,” I said breathlessly. In that moment I meant it. Everything he did felt good. I trusted him completely. “What do you want?”
“This time isn’t about me.” He lifted me and sat me on the counter. I spread my legs for him and was rewarded with a slow, pleased smile. “You’re so fucking perfect. All I want is to see you come.”
I smiled. His gaze was a caress of its own. I brought my hand to my clit and began to rub it. His nostrils flared and he breathed in audibly. I’d never been sexually bold, but knowing that I could turn Graham on gave me confidence. With his cock bulging in his jeans, he watched me as I increased the speed of my hand across my clit. My eyelids grew heavy and my core began to spasm. It was a small wave of warm release.
I stopped, gripped the counter on either side of me and was about to open my eyes when I felt his breath on my sex. He parted me with his fingers and began to adore my clit with his huge, hot tongue. The pleasure I’d brought myself was nothing compared to the fire his touch sent through me.
He slid one finger inside me, then another and then began to pump them in and out—faster and faster. I whimpered as I started toward a second and much more powerful climax.
I shifted closer to the edge, wanting his tongue to go deeper. He’d created a need his fingers could not fulfill.
I was out of my mind by the time I heard him unzip his jeans. There was an excruciatingly long pause while he stepped out of them and rolled on a condom. Then his hands gripped my hips and he teased me by dipping just the tip of his cock into me.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His hands bit into my ass as he lifted me off the counter and held me effortlessly just above his rock-hard cock. I couldn’t take it anymore. I started begging. “Fuck me, Graham. I want to feel you inside me. Now.”
“Good, baby. That’s so good.” He claimed my mouth then thrusted upward into me. He was so big and for a second I worried that taking him all in might hurt, but it didn’t. He moved slowly at first, then more powerfully. Deeper and deeper. Harder and faster.
He turned so my back rested against the coolness of the fridge and pounded into me. I dug my nails into his shoulders and gave myself over to my first out-of-body-mindlessly-wonderful orgasm.
I cried out as I came. He didn’t break stride. He was lost to our passion as well. There was a primal fierceness to how he kissed my neck and held me as he took his own pleasure. I held on, clenching around each powerful thrust. I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but my body began to hum again. I had to know if it could get even better. I dug my hands into his hair and growled, “Hard. Fuck me harder.”
“Fuck, yeah.” Whatever control he’d had disappeared then. He drove into me with an abandon that had me calling out his name and soaring out of control again.
With a grunt, he buried himself inside me one last time and came.
It was so good I almost started to cry, but dragged his mouth back to mine instead. I kissed him with all the love in my heart. He kissed me back tenderly, then slowly lowered me to my feet. He cleaned himself off, tossed the condom in the trash, then lifted me so I was settled around his hips again.
I wasn’t one of those petite women that most men could pick up, but Graham wasn’t most men. He made me feel small and beautiful. “I told you there was nothing wrong with you, Peanut.”
I hugged him because I knew gushing gratitude would make him feel awkward. “That was amazing.”
He carried me out of the kitchen with his hands cupping my ass casually. “I could use a hot shower.”
Smiling adoringly up at him, I asked, “With or without me?”
He shifted me and I felt the tip of his cock teasing the slit of my sex. “With. We’ll wash each other down, then I want your lips wrapped around my cock before I turn around and fuck you from behind.” He slid the tip of himself between my folds positioning himself against my clit. “What do you say?”
I shifted my hips back and forth, rubbing my clit along his hardening shaft. “Yes. Yes. Shit, yes.”
We exchanged a look that was part easy friendship and part lustful partners. “Peanut, I need you to know—”
“Not now.” I claimed his mouth and robbed him of the chance to say whatever he was about to. I didn’t want to start thinking again—not yet.
He gave my ass a slap. “Have I created a monster?”
I ran my hands over his chest and said, “If your definition of a monster is someone who desperately wants that shower you promised, then yes.”
“Desperately, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I smacked his chest. “Don’t be an ass.”
His hands tightened on me and he thrusted his bare cock balls-deep into my wet pussy. I gasped. He growled. “The shower can wait. I can’t.”
I would have countered with something witty, but instead my answer was to clench around his shaft and pull him in deeper. We didn’t make it out of the living room until much, much later.