I followed her up the front path and all the way to the porch, my frustration building with every step. This was my fault. I’d lost control of myself because of Perry, and now, I’d nearly lost her.

Becca had every right to be angry with me after what happened. I’d ignored her, gone with my gut instinct to punch Perry into a mush, and likely scared the shit out of her. She’d never seen that side of me. Even when I’d defended her in the practice, I’d still been somewhat in control of my faculties.

“Becca,” I said, for what had to be the fiftieth time. “I’m not going to leave until we hash this out. I know I fucked up.”

We mounted the front steps in darkness. She hadn’t left the porch light on for herself, or perhaps it didn’t work, and the night surrounded us. There was only the moon, blocked by the porch’s overhang, and the silent street. Crickets chirped in the bushes nearby, and Becca’s keys rattled as she brought them out of her purse.

“For fuck’s sake, Rebecca,” I said. “Talk to me.”

She spun around and glared up at me, stunning me again. Too much fucking beauty to handle, even more pronounced now that she was angry. She squared her shoulders and stared up at me. “I didn’t ask for any of this,” she said. “I just wanted to start my life fresh.”

“You’re saying I fucked it up?”

“A little, yeah,” she replied. “Because of…this.” She pointed from her chest to mine and back again, then shook her long dark curls out. “Because of whatever is going on between us, I’m now one of the most hated people in town.”

“Not true,” I replied. “You’re hated by a handful of idiots. The rest of Stoneport is decent.”

“Whatever. The point is I didn’t want to start a new life here with a shadow over my head, and now I have it, whether I like it or not.”

“So what are you saying?” I asked. “You wanna stop? You wanna forget about all of this because of Perry? Because of my ex?” I took one of her hands in mine and brushed my thumb over the back of it. “You’ll let some assholes decide your future for you?”

“My future?” She gaped at me. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t fucking know, Becca. You do the math. I’m crazy about you. There, I fucking said it. I’m crazy about you. I’ve been through enough shit to last me a lifetime, but goddamn if I can’t get you out of my mind. I can’t stop myself from wanting you or thinking about you, and that’s all there is to it.”

She stepped forward and poked me in the chest. “If I’m so damn important then why do you care what Perry thinks, huh? Why do you care if they mock me or you?”

I shook my head. It was too complicated to go into, right now. Perry’s friendship had been a rock. We’d been brothers, and the fact that he’d turned on me was too much to put into words when I was clouded by the woman standing in front of me.

“I can’t explain it properly,” I said. “Just know that it was for you. Because of you.”

“Bullshit. Anger is always selfish.” She turned her back on me again and inserted the keys into the lock, then turned them.

“So, you’re being selfish right now?” I asked.

She spun back around again, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You’re angry, right? That’s selfish by your logic.”

“Don’t play word games with me.” Becca poked me in the chest, and I caught her finger in mine and pinned it back against the door.

I moved my body into hers, pressing against her soft curves and resting my forehead against hers. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again. Tell me you’re too angry to go on like this. Say it, and I’ll never come back again.”

She stared at me, her eyes flicking from side to side as she took in the words. “Mason.”

“Say it. Say you want me to go.”

Becca opened those perfect lips, her tongue emerging to wet them.

C’mon, baby, say it.

“Stay,” she whispered.

I crashed into her, parting those lips further and finding her tongue with mine. I tasted the sweetness of her again. How many times had it been now? I’d lost count, simply because each kiss was like the first. My muscles rippled against her, tightening in response to the waves of desire that resulted from our touch.

“Fuck,” I growled against her lips.

Her hands fell to my belt, and she stripped it off, then she worked her dainty fingers over the buttons of my jeans, then my zipper. She tugged me free, my cock falling against the palm of her hand. Becca stroked my shaft, then worked her fingers over my head, and I groaned into her again. It was too much. Too fast.

I grabbed her thigh and lifted it, her cotton dress tumbling back along that smooth, tan thigh, revealing a matching white G-string underneath.

“Jesus Christ, Becca,” I said and traced the triangle with my free hand, the other’s fingertips biting into the meat of her thigh. “Jesus, look at you. You’ve already soaked through the cotton.”

She slammed her back against the door and arched it, pressing her tits outward, barely contained by the fabric that held them in place. “Fuck me raw,” she breathed. “Fuck me bare. I need it.” She worked her palm over my shaft, demanding, her skin so soft it brought shudders of pleasure down my spine.

She didn’t have to ask me twice. I peeled the triangle of fabric to one side, revealing the tight little cunt waiting beneath it. Her lips glistened in the meager moonlight. I swept a finger between them and lifted her juices to my lips, lapped them down greedily.

Fuck, what I’d give to bury my face in that pussy again and just devour her. I bent to make good on that, but she released my dick and pressed both hands to my shoulders. “Mason,” she hissed. “Inside. Now, please. I need you inside me. I need you to fill me again.”

I hoisted her thigh up, wrapped it around my waist and closed the remaining distance between us, angling her ass so that her pussy teased the tip of my cock. I held the base of my shaft and worked it back and forth, teasing her clit with our fluids.

Precum dripped onto her pussy, and she covered me with her need for me.

“Mason!” It was a demand, and a little too loud given that we were still out in open.

“Quiet,” I said.

“I want it.”

“Quiet, or you’ll end up with your panties balled up in your mouth for a gag.”

Becca’s eyes flashed at the challenge. She tilted her head back, and I ravaged her throat with kisses, trailing moisture from the hollow at its base and up to her chin. “I want it,” she repeated, even louder this time, and it was clearly a challenge. “I want it now, Mason.”

I stepped back and dropped her thigh, bent in front of her, and dragged the cotton G-string down her legs. She lifted either heeled foot and stepped out of it, smirking above me. I rose again and balled the panties up. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she whispered and opened her mouth.

I placed the panties inside, and she gave a muffled gasp, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Good?”

“Mm-hmm,” she moaned.

I lifted her thigh again and rammed her against the door. I took the base of my dick, slapped it against her clit once, wet it with her fluids again, then rammed it into her velvet warmth, stretching her out again.

“Christ,” I growled, softly.

Rebecca let out a whine, muffled by the panties in her mouth.

“Harder?”

“Mm-hmm.”

I pounded into her. She was so fucking wet I was transported to nirvana. I leaned into her, suckling on her neck, tugging on her hair with my free hand as I angled my dick inside her, scraping against her G-spot, demanding her climax.

Becca’s legs shook, her ass trembled against the wood, and she clamped her hands around my neck, pulling and moaning. She pulsed around my cock, squeezing me tight—a pre-orgasm.

I bit down on her neck and used the position as leverage to penetrate deep. As fucking deep as I could go.

She moaned against her makeshift gag, pressing into me, her left leg collapsing beneath her. I caught it before she fell and lifted her into the air, working her back and forth on my dick with ease. She was light as a fucking feather.

Becca leaned back against the door and watched me, glazed over with her impending orgasm.

“That’s right, angel,” I whispered. “Come for me. Come hard for me.”

She jerked around my dick, her hands clawing at me, her body melding to mine as she reached the peak and burst over it. Her whine became a scream, still muffled, but loud enough. I didn’t bother shushing her.

I was too fucking gone to care. I pushed into her again and again, my balls tightening up, my body tensing. My cock swelled up, and her pussy was too tight, too fucking good. I released inside her, filling her again and again. I dripped out of her, even though I wasn’t done yet.

“Fuck,” I grunted and leaned in, losing it inside her. Losing myself.

Something cracked behind us, but I couldn’t stop.

There was a terrific groan, and then a crash. We tipped forward, and I held onto my woman, shifting my hands to catch her, even though we fell together.

The old fucking door slapped into the foyer of Becca’s house, and we slammed down on top of it together, still jamming through our climax.

“Jesus.” I rolled off her after it was finally done, my back against the rough wood. “Jesus.”

Becca spat out her underwear and sat up wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked down at the wooden non-fixture beneath us. The keys were still in the lock. “There goes the door,” Becca muttered.

“I can fix it. I’ll fix it in the morning. We can prop it up for now,” I said, between breaths.

Becca stiffened next to me. “Mason—Mason, this doesn’t change anything. I still need to think about this. None of what’s happening makes any sense.”

“You can’t tell me what we just did didn’t make sense,” I said, sitting up too. I got up, pulled my pants up from around my ankles, and buttoned myself. I offered her a hand and helped her up.

“Not that,” she said. “Everything else.”

“What do you want, Becca?”

“You. I want you. But I don’t want to want you,” she said, honestly. “Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” I replied. It was how I felt. It was the exact same feeling that’d been lodged in my chest. Whatever the case, I’d overstayed my welcome. She needed her space. I stepped back and bent, lifting the old door with ease. “I’ll prop it up for tonight. But I can’t leave you here alone. You got a guest room I can crash in?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“No monkey business,” I said. “Just safety. I can’t let you stay here alone without any protection. Got it?”

“Thanks,” she said, nodding. “Thanks.”

“We’ll work out all of this in the morning.” And with that, I propped up the door from the inside and secured it in place with a shove. She collected her panties and started up the stairs, flipping on the light as she did.

What did that say about us? About this? Or about me?

Since when had I decided trusting was a good thing to do?