“Cade!” I came, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as a sob tore from my throat.
Cade followed, his thrusts matching the pounding of my heart as my cries of release wound into murmurs of wordless appreciation.
His body came to rest between my legs, his lips against my neck. We lay there in the silence, the sweat cooling our bodies as labored breaths sawed from our lungs.
He pressed a kiss to my lips and, eyes on mine, pulled out.
I missed him instantly.
He strutted, bare-assed, to the bathroom across the room and shut the door.
I threw an arm over my forehead and blew out a breath, tingles traveling the length of my body and back.
Wow.
Cade returned, and fatigue hit me like a Mack truck. After a day spent in class, confronting my dad and my ex (twice), and making love to Cade for the first time, I could sleep.
I smiled to myself. Making love to Cade. For the first time.
Cade knew exactly what to do to turn me on. Even that game of “keep it down” was an excuse to let me cry out when he decided. He was unlike anyone I’d ever known. I liked him way too much.
I curled around one of his pillows and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction.
Whatever happened next between us, I hoped it included more of this.
Cade
No way could my father hear us from the other side of the house. But I liked challenging Tasha, and I liked the way she’d accepted my challenge. Letting me determine when she could call my name.
My command of “Louder” and her screaming my name in ecstasy had me coming harder than I ever had in my life. It was amazing.
I wanted her loose and wild. I wanted her again. I didn’t want this to end.
She was lying on my bed, cuddling a pillow. I could only see the tip of her cute nose and open eyes, her blond hair rippling over her shoulder. The line of her body was like looking at a work of art. The curve of her shoulder to the indentations of her ribs to the swell of her hips. She was gorgeous. And in my bed.
I climbed in and took the pillow’s place. I loved touching her. I loved the way she felt against me. We hadn’t made any declarations, but I felt like she belonged with me.
I squeezed her hip, imagining what that might look like—us together.
She grasped my left shoulder. “Tell me about your tattoos.”
I couldn’t wait to blow her away when I spoke without a stutter. I’d practiced just now in the bathroom mirror, under my breath, reciting a verse from one of my favorite songs. Not a single hesitation from brain to mouth. I didn’t dare think a miracle had occurred, but there had been a noticeable shift. I felt more in control than I had in a long while, like before I skidded Blue into that fire hydrant.
It was nice to feel like my old self…well, not my old self but a merger of old and new. The man I was when I was with Tasha.
“What do you want to know?” I asked, casually running my fingers over her hip. How she could’ve ever thought she was less than physically perfect was beyond me.
“What’s this?” Her hand moved to trace the tattoo of a circle on my bicep.
“Speedometer,” I said of the contemporary design.
“Ahh. I see it now.” She traced the circle, then the needle pointing at what I liked to think was 120 miles per hour.
“What does the moon mean?” A crescent with stars wound around my biceps.
“I like the night.”
“This one I really like.” She stroked the tattoo on my forearm—an American flag unfurling into a checkered flag.