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His speed picked up, his angle hitting every right spot inside of me.
“None of it compared to the real thing.” Nails pressed into the skin of my thigh, deep enough to leave little half-moons. “None of it compared to you.”
He had to stop talking. I couldn’t handle it, couldn’t process what he was saying, couldn’t believe it.
“Touch yourself for me,” he grunted. “Show me how much you enjoy it.”
Jesus. Why is he right? I snaked a hand between us and found my clit. The top of his cock felt like fucking silk as it slid against my fingers, his saliva and my hot liquid around it, and I tried not to get too distracted as I swirled the delectable mixture around my clit in tiny, calculated circles.
I felt my orgasm rear its head again, warning me of its impending arrival, and I wasn’t sure I could take another one. The first had wrecked me—what the hell would a second do? Stop my heart?
“God, yes,” I whined, my back arching, desperate for skin-on-skin contact.
“So damn sexy.” He lifted up, putting that space back between us, and held either side of my face between his thumb and fingers to steady my head. He batted my fingers away with his other hand, replacing them with his own. Precise little movements dragged me further and further into the abyss. “Look at me when you come, Ray. Watch how much it fucking turns me on.”
He kept his pace, kept his fingers against my clit, and within seconds I was hurtling over that edge again, my eyes locked on his. Just him watching me was enough to destroy me if the goddamn orgasm didn’t.
“Good girl,” he purred, his hips stuttering, his body twitching. He was close, and I was gone, floating far above my body and unable to return. “Such… such a good girl for me.”
Pleasure rampaged through me as he bucked, every muscle in his body going rigid apart from his hands, and then he was leaning on me, gasping for breath and planting earnest kisses anywhere his mouth could reach.
If this was how he fucked every bunny he had I could understand why they kept coming back for more. But something deep in my gut wanted it to be special, wanted to be the only one he’d ruined like that. Because I was ruined, and I knew that for damn sure as he slowly slid himself out of me, leaving me empty and aching. I wondered if I’d ever be satiated again, if he’d ever give me that again, or if this was a spur-of-the-moment thing.
It had to be. Wade’s lips pressed against my temple and my mind flared, betraying me, hating me, building the wall. He moved away from me, and for a second, I caught a glimpse of him—thick, long, veiny in all the right places. The smallest tuft of shaved-down pubic hair just above, with deep lines along his hips that acted like an arrow, directing me exactly where to look.
My mouth watered. I wanted more.
But it couldn’t happen again. I’d get attached, and that was off the table. It had to be.
Chapter 18
Wade
Ihadn’t been able to get Ray out of my head for nearly thirty-four hours.
I didn’t know what to do with myself, didn’t know how to handle that. It wasn’t like that with other women—normally once was enough to keep me going for a while, and they certainly didn’t stay with me in my head, certainly didn’t have me jacking off in the shower the moment I got home from work. I told myself it was just because I’d been pent up for weeks. Any other reason was just insanity.
I stood by the edge of my indoor pool in my Boulder home, naked from my third shower of the day, and stared down at the warm water. For a second, I swore I could see her in it, nude and screaming in the shallow end that sloped up like a beach. Back arched, nose scrunched, looking at me like I was God himself. Clenching around me. Pleading. Begging.
My cock throbbed. I needed to see her again.
Without an ounce of dignity or a rational thought in my head, I grabbed my phone from the table I’d placed my towel on and waded into the water, sitting down in the exact spot I’d imagined her in. I found her name within seconds, hit call, and didn’t think twice.
Two rings and she answered. “Hey, I’m just about to head home from the hospital?—”
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I said, a hoarseness to my voice that I wasn’t expecting. Maybe it was those three showers. “Come over.”
A short bout of silence made me worry the line had dropped before she spoke again. “What?”
“Come over.”
“Do you know what time it is?” she hissed, and I pulled my phone from my ear to check. Just past eight o’clock. “I didn’t realize I was on-call at all goddamn hours of the day, Wade. Can it wait until tomorrow?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with work,” I insisted, wondering if she’d even heard me when I said I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“Hold on.” A second passed. “No, Mom, it’s just my boss,” Ray said, her voice quieter as she held the phone away from her mouth. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I could hear the click of her heels echoing in the hospital’s hallway.
