Page 44 of Like Dragonflies

Page List


Font:  

“There’s paint on the carpet,” I say with a laugh, running my finger along the paint speckles. “I bet your mother hates that.”

“Oh, God. She totally does.”

Our eyes meet and her green ones shine with such emotion. An emotion that’s directed at me—meant only for me. An emotion I want to bottle up and then beg for her to paint onto a canvas so I can see what it means.

I slide my hand into her silky hair and kiss her lips I’ve missed. Her palms slip over my shoulders as I devour her sweet taste. Grabbing her ass, I haul her into my lap. Our kiss grows more heated as she grinds against the part of me that’s aching to be relieved by her.

“Mars,” she murmurs.

“Hmm?”

She moans when my lips trail down to her neck. My fingers find the front of her shirt and I start plucking through buttons eagerly.

“Mars…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need you.”

“I fucking need you too.”

Her breath hitches when I start sliding her shirt off her shoulders. It gets torn away and discarded. My finger and thumb make quick work of unhooking her bra, ridding her of that as well. As soon as it’s gone, I grip her hips, pulling her slightly away so I can admire her perfect tits. She lets out a mewl when I lean forward to kiss the soft, pale flesh. Her rosy pink nipples are peaked and begging for attention. I run my tongue in a circle around one of her nipples, loving the way she grips my hair. I tug at her nipple with my teeth, causing her to cry out.

“You taste so sweet,” I murmur before sucking her nipple into my mouth. I pop off her nipple with an obscenely loud sound. “I want to taste you everywhere.”

She scoots back until her bottom hits the carpet. Then, she lies back, her green eyes soft and inviting. “Take your hoodie off. I want to see you too.”

I rip away my hoodie and shirt. I’m craving to put my mouth on her everywhere.

“I’m going to need these,” I mutter, as I slide my palms up the outside of her thighs and under her skirt. I grab onto her panties and then peel them down her thighs. She allows me to pull them away. I flash her a wolfish grin before prowling over her body. She parts her thighs and I settle between them on my hunt for her sweet lips. We kiss hard. Her back arches up off the floor when I grind against her center. “I’m going to make love to you,” I tell her. “You want that?”

“Yes,” she breathes. “So much.”

I pull away from her and work at my belt. Her eyes are starved and her tits quiver with each shallow breath she takes. I unzip my jeans and am pushing my boxers down when we hear it.

“Sage?”

Her mouth gapes open in horror.

“Sage, honey? Whose car is in the driveway? We got halfway there and I realized I was wearing my blue pumps, not my black ones. Do you know how embarrassing that would have been?”

As her voice grows closer, we spring into action. I peel apart my shirt and hoodie, tossing the hoodie at her as I pull on my shirt. She scrambles to her feet, yanking the material over her head. I’ve barely got my zipper pulled up when the voice stops talking.

“Oh, dear God in heaven,” her mother chokes out. “Sage! What did I tell you?”

I can’t meet her mother’s horrified glare as I scramble to button my jeans and do up my belt. There’s no explaining away the fact, I was about to screw her daughter on the paint-splattered floor.

“Mother,” Sage hisses as she tries to push her mother out the door, while pulling it closed behind her.

“No!” her mother bellows. “No!”

Fuck.

What is it with this woman hating my fucking guts so badly?

“We can talk about this later,” she shouts back to her mother.

Her mother lets out an anguished scream. “No, Sage. Afraid not. Looks like we have to talk about this right now. Before you ruin your life. It may even be too late.”

Go fuck yourself, Mrs. Emerson.

I’m the best thing in Sage’s life and damn if that doesn’t feel good.

Sage

When Mom barges in and starts spewing shit about Mars ruining my life, my heart sinks but then anger surges through me. I feel heat creep up my neck and settle on my cheeks. I know my ears are red like exclamation points punctuating my frustration.

Why does Mom hate Mars so much?

How can you hate a person you don’t even know?

“Sage, I told you to stay away from him. I told you.” She stresses every syllable and it saws away at my nerves. We’re standing in her and Dad’s bedroom, while she clutches the pair of black shoes she meant to grab.


Tags: K. Webster Romance