Page 138 of A Matter of Time

It was too much, so I cut him off, shifting in his lap so my ass was pressing against his groin, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him with every drop of love and hate and everything in between that I had. I was ravenous for him, and the way I kissed him brought moans and whimpers up out of him. It made me smile—big strong man just shaking with need for his lover. It was staggering to be that wanted, to drown in the heat of the kiss, of the embrace.

“Swear on my life, Sam, swear you’re gonna tell everyone about me.”

“Shit,” he groaned, and I could tell he was in agony. “I fuckin’ hate you.”

“Swear.”

“I swear,” he almost yelled. “But you hafta take my word that I will. You need to trust me.” He was exasperated, sick of fighting with me. It took so much energy.

“I do.”

“I really fuckin’ hate you,” he growled at me, his hands sliding up and down my thighs as I shifted in his lap, shoving my groin against his abdomen.

“I know.” I smiled into his smoky-blue eyes, reaching down between us, my hand slipping over the front of his jeans, rubbing gently but firmly.

“Jesus God,” he blurted out, his head falling back against the seat. “Jory, I swear, baby, I did not get in bed with anybody else. Please-please-please let me get in bed with⁠—”

“Yes, Sam. Let’s go to my place.”

He lifted me up and dumped me back in my seat, and I laughed at how fast he drove, the tires squealing, the engine revving loud. I told him to put the light on the top of the car, and he shot me a scathing look that just made me laugh that much harder.

At my door he hovered over me, his lips on the side of my neck, and I had trouble with the lock. He took the keys and got the door open, then locked it behind us. Lifted into his arms, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to my bedroom. Clothes were torn off and left where they fell, both of us getting into bed at the same time. I scrambled back against the headboard, and he came down on top of me, his mouth on me, swallowing me down. I arched up against him and heard him fumbling in my nightstand. When slick fingers slid inside me, I yelled his name.

“I might hurt you,” he confessed, lifting his lips from me.

“Try,” I breathed out.

The noise he made in the back of his throat before he lifted my hips and buried himself in me, deep and hard, was raw and throaty. And the thrust would have hurt, but his hand was back to stroke my shaft and keep my arousal at fever pitch. To be filled and held at the same time was heaven.

“I missed you.”

I had missed him more. My eyes were all over him, watching the cording muscles as he moved above me, and then the way he caught his breath as I pushed against him, rolling him over on his back. He gripped my thighs as I rose above him. Reaching up to pull me down, close, he was so gentle as he caressed my skin.

“Promise me you won’t go anywhere,” he rasped, my face in his hands as he stared into my eyes, the throb of pleasure sliding through him as I seated myself deeper.

“I promise.” I smiled slowly.

“Don’t leave me. I’ll hurt you if you try and leave me.”

I held his gaze. “Yeah? You’ll hurt me?”

“Jory.” His voice cracked. “Please, baby, I⁠—”

But my mouth on his cut him off as I kissed the worry right out of him. When I pulled back, his eyes were clouded, his lips swollen. He looked utterly ravaged.

“You know, that woman was right.”

I squinted at him. “What are we talking about?”

“That woman that time, the one who came with my neighbor… You could be a model if you wanted. You are so beautiful.”

I laughed at him, trying to kiss him.

“You are. Your mouth and your skin and your sweet ass.”

“I don’t think she was talking about my ass,” I whispered, loving our mindless pillow talk.

He ignored me. “I love how your eyes get when we’re doing this. Jesus, J, it’s so fuckin’ hot.”