Page 147 of One Wild Wish

“Yeah.”

She pinched the skin at my ribs. “Try again.”

“Okay.” I rocked my hips up, pressing against her from below, nothing but two bits of fabric between us. “The real reason I can’t get enough of you is I worry about time.” I wasn’t expecting to reveal that much of my heart, risk her pulling away at my admission. I couldn’t shove the words back in now.

She shifted her weight slightly, tiny ripples that teased us both. “Why time?” Hesitancy bit into her tone.

There was so much I wanted to say to Ainsley. Confess how often she occupied my mind, that our time apart was painful, and I wanted to watch every old movie with her nestled into my side, wash dishes with her at my side , cook with her, fight with her, make up with her, take her to Morocco like she’d dreamed, and find a thousand ways to tell her how her beauty hurt my heart.

I settled on a sliver of truth. “Because, after you leave, when I close my eyes I can almost feel you in bed, beside me. When I open them, and you’re not here, disappointment sets in. The rough kind, like a hollow spreading in my gut.”

She sucked in a breath, her chin trembling. She didn’t speak, her unsaid words revealing as much as the moisture glazing her eyes. She felt it, too. I was sure of it—this unnameable connection. This sense of rightness. And she was scared. So Ainsley did what Ainsley did best: she changed the subject.

Blinking rapidly, she ghosted her nose along my chest, inhaling my scent. “You smell like apple pie.”

“That would be my soap. Nana started making it a couple years back. She sells it at a few markets and sends me home with it every visit.”

“I may need to buy a few bars.”

Or you could stay over, I didn’t say. You could live here and shower here and use my soap and be mine. But she wasn’t, not with the one ugly truth I’d kept from her.

It was selfish of me, not telling her about Tessa’s claims. The notion of speaking them aloud felt like breathing truth into the lies, giving them life. Still, it wasn’t fair. If Ainsley found out some other way, it would undermine everything we’d built. Ruin it. Ruin us. Pretending the whole ordeal would blow over was a fool’s errand.

She moved her hips faster, palms flat on my chest. I was pumped with lust and an aching need to be inside my woman. To forget this one small, yet massive snag.

But this couldn’t go on. “We need to talk.”

“We need to fuck.” With a sexy grunt, she slinked down my body, moving deliberately, teasing bites and licks tracing a tortuous path.

My thighs bunched, my abs contracting with each languid exploration. Christ , this woman. But I gripped her shoulders. “Seriously, there’s something we need to discuss.”

She nipped my hipbone. “I’m sure it can wait.”

I should have tried harder to stop her, fought the pull to melt into this moment, but she felt too good, and we could be on a timeline. When I revealed I’d been accused of cheating on my ex, I could lose her. She was already halfway out the door as it was…

Her fingers lingered on my pecs as she descended, and I let her descend. I gave myself over to the perfection of her hot mouth on my skin. She toyed with my nipples, my chest hair, tracing a trail to my throbbing dick, pulling my briefs off on her way. She hummed against my shaft, ran her lips up and down the sides, fondling my balls with her skilled fingers in a blinding rhythm.

I didn’t know if it was our blowjob conversation on that disastrous date, or her inherent expertise, but Ainsley Hall sucking me off was a one-way ticket to Nirvana.

Which was exactly where she took me.

Her full lips swallowed me, the head of my cock hitting the back of her throat. It was like she didn’t have a gag reflex, taking me deeper, working me harder. Her small hands gripped and pumped while she sucked and used her tongue. I couldn’t help but move my hips and fist her hair, knees wide as my balls pinched, so much heat flooding my groin. Too much heat. I needed to see her eyes when I came, feel her pulse around me.

Pulling my hips back, I eased her up. She looked wickedly pleased, her lips red and used, her cheeks flushed. I flicked her bra clasp and tossed the lace, taking her breasts in my hands, so big and lush. Absolute perfection. Touching wasn’t enough.

Lifting up, I kissed and sucked her supple flesh, taking her nipple between my teeth as she tossed her head back, arching toward me. Her hips moved, searching for friction, but I wasn’t done. I went to work on her other breast, feasting on her, like the desperate man I was, eventually rubbing my face between her tits, happy to drown in all things Ainsley.

Her husky laugh broke my spell. “So you’re a breast man.”

“I’m an Ainsley man. Want it all.” I thrust upward, only her underwear between us.

She whimpered and rocked, her pussy so wet and hot, drenching the thin fabric. Flipping us so I straddled her, I continued worshipping her breasts, the soft skin over her ribs, the dip of her belly button, the swells of her hips, perfectly full and womanly. I couldn’t touch her enough, open-mouthed kisses trailing her from end to end.

When I reached the valley between her thighs, she trembled. “God , yes.”

“You a praying woman?”

“Only if it makes you work faster.”