I bury my face in her neck and breathe in her sweet smell as my entire body throbs with pleasure.
“Yes,” she murmurs, and my dick thickens more, and I cant my hips forward and release high inside her. “I feel you. So good,” she murmurs, her voice low, so sated, my chest puffs, the caveman in me pounding his chest in pride. Ridiculous, I know, but to give her mind-blowing sex does something crazy to me.
I fall over her, crush her body against mine as I find her lips again. I kiss her softly, a light brush of our lips. “It’s a good thing this dome isn’t made of real snow,” I whisper, and she starts laughing, a light, airy sound like for the first time in a long time the weight of the world is off her shoulders.
“You’re right,” she says. “We would have melted it and created an igloo tsunami.”
“I can see the headlines now: two locals drown in a puddle of incredible sex.” She goes a bit quiet, and I brush her hair from her face. “Hey, what is it?”
She stifles a yawn. “You’re not really a local, not anymore.”
“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”
She nods, but her brow is furrowed. “It really was great sex, Wes.”
“For me too, babe.” I inch out of her, and she yawns again. I grin, “I’m sorry I kept you up so late.”
“No, you’re not,” she says with a tired chuckle that curls around me and hugs tight. I hug her to me, unable to get close enough. “You’re just being polite.”
I laugh. “Okay, maybe you’re right.”
I throw my legs over the side of the bed, and remove the condom. I wrap it in tissue and toss it into the garbage can. “Be right back.” I take a trip to the bathroom and warm a washcloth to clean her up. I come back out, and her eyes are sliding shut, but she’s working hard to keep them open.
“Hey sleepy girl.”
“I’m awake,” she murmurs. I position myself on the foot of the bed, and spread her legs. She forces her eyes open and moans when I press the hot cloth to her sweet pussy. I wipe her gently, and she writhes against me. Christ, I fucking love the way she reacts to my touch.
I finish cleaning her, toss the cloth aside, and crawl in with her, tugging the covers up to keep her warm.
“You can’t do that, Wes,” she says, her voice groggy. She rolls into me, throws one leg and one arm over me as she presses her face to my chest.
“Can’t do what?” I ask, my heart pounding a bit faster, worried I did something she didn’t like.
“You can’t arouse me all over again, and not do anything about it.”
My heart settles as I chuckle. “I plan to do something about it, just later.”
A long beat of silence and I’m pretty sure she’s asleep when she murmurs, “I want more.”
I glance down at her, my arm around her head, her face squished on my chest. “You…want more?” I ask. Have her thoughts been going down the same path as mine? The truth is that we barely know each other, yet we’ve known of each other forever. We had one day of adventure, and one night of incredible sex, but goddammit, something is happening between us. Or maybe it’s just happening with me. Rider once said to me, when it comes to the right girl, you just know. But that’s crazy. I once thought that about Breton and look where that led.
She’s not Breton.
Maybe not, and maybe there’s something in the fresh ocean air messing with my brain. I’m a guy who swore he’d never get involved with a hometown girl searching for a way out, right? Now suddenly I want to be the guy to take her where she wants to go. What if I do, though? What if I ask the girl looking for bigger and better to go to Seattle with me? Will she bail once she realizes I’m simply a small-town farmer who’s good at hockey? Or am I letting old fears mess with my head and my heart?
“Yeah, this weekend, before we go home and back to reality, I want more,” she clarifies.
“Right, and believe me, you’re getting more. But first you’re going to close your eyes and get a few minutes’ sleep. After you have a power nap, I plan to mess with you again.” She moans and snuggles in deeper. I tighten the blankets around us, and just before I drift off, she mumbles something in her sleep.
Did she just tell me not to mess with her heart?
I’m honestly not sure, and maybe I should be more worried that she’s going to mess with mine.
12
Charlie
Iturn to my side, and muscles I didn’t know existed groan in protest. What the heck is going on with my body? I work hard every day, lifting and lugging lobster bins, not to mention controlling a big vessel in the open Atlantic waters. My muscles shouldn’t be sore. I move again, and realize it’s not my biceps hurting. Nope, it’s muscles deep between my legs that haven’t been used in a long time that are fighting back in the most glorious ways.