Bad Cruz(70)

“Out cold,” I whispered.

We tiptoed our way to my room and closed the door. As soon as we were alone, surrounded by the silence of the night, my queen-size bed and nothing else, I felt self-conscious again.

I moved to my old, door-less closet, removing my cheap earrings as I spoke.

“Don’t say things like that again. About getting married to me, I mean. It’s unkind to Bear. He is going to start thinking you mean it. He’s a kid. He’s literal.”

“You’re a grown-up and you’re literal.” Cruz began unbuttoning his black dress shirt. “And besides, I wasn’t kidding. I refuse to let other people’s opinions fuck me if they’re not giving me an orgasm, too. I reserve the right to do whatever I want to do to you, and with you.”

“When did you decide that?” I asked, outraged.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Sometime this week, when I found myself being given a phone number of a woman I didn’t want to call, then heard a rumor that you were selling weed at Fairhope High to pay for your Botox, but found myself completely unfazed by what it said about me if I went out with you.”

It was bull, and we both knew it.

He had too much to lose.

Even if he didn’t, dating him wasn’t worth the wrath of my family and the townsfolk. I opened my mouth, but he shut me up with a scorching-hot kiss, soaked with sweet memories and hunger and the garlic from the pasta sauce he’d made.

Biting down on his lower lip, I tugged his slacks open, fumbling unsuccessfully with the buttons and zippers.

“What is this thing, a darn chastity belt?”

He laughed into our kiss gruffly, pushing down my uniform from my shoulders, clawing it off me.

“I still have the clothes I bought you at my house.” He unbuttoned the front of my mini dress. His fingers sank deep into my skin, leaving dents.

“Burn them.” I bit down on his stubbled neck, pushing a hand into his pants and cupping his massive erection brazenly.

It jerked happily into my palm in greeting.

Hello to you, too, handsome.

“Only if you come and help me,” Cruz challenged.

“I plan to come, all right.”

But weirdly, when I thought about those clothes, I wasn’t full of stubborn, defiant dread. I happened to quite like those ridiculously expensive garments and some of the memories created in them.

Especially the floaty bohemian style ones that made me look like one of the Olsen twins taking her trash out. I missed them (the dresses, not the Olsens. I mean, they were great in Full House, but I never got into their newer stuff).

A minute later, I was on my back in my bed, watching him slap a condom on. He rolled his hips, sliding into me in one, achingly slow movement, grinning down at me.

He rotated his hips, gathering my hair in his fist and tugging it to extend my neck and make me look at him. The planes of his face, his heartbreakingly stunning cheekbones, were too much for me.

I moaned loudly, with no regard to the fact there was someone else under this roof.

“I missed this.” My breathing was choppy, my voice strained.

“I missed you.”

In that moment, I hated to admit it, but Trinity did not chart in my universe. Neither did Wyatt, Gabriella, Catherine Costello, my parents, nor the entire state of North Carolina.

Only Cruz, and the way he made me feel.

“I think you just found my G-spot.” I caught his face in my hands.

“You mean, here?” He pulled up and thrusted deep inside me again, a husky rumble coming from his chest.

“Y—y-y-es.”

“Just to make it clear, that spot over there?” He withdrew and sank into me once more.

“Ohhhhh.”

“This one, right?”

I was so close to the edge, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Luckily, I didn’t have to know. Cruz did all the work for me.

He entered me fast and hard, his cock gliding into me again and again, creating delicious friction. My climax spiraled up like climbing ivy, encircling and chaining every organ in my body.

It was so intense. So delicious, I couldn’t stop panting. My body begged for release.

“Cruz. Cruz.”

He kissed me roughly, stuffing his tongue down my throat to shut me up.

“Shhh. You’ll wake the kid up and then I’m never going to visit Tennessee again.”

Laughter bloomed inside my chest, a weird mix of happiness and horniness taking over me. A minute later, I was riding the most intense wave of chain-orgasms I’d ever had in my entire life.

Period. Full stop. Exclamation point.

As soon as Cruz felt my release, he flipped me on my stomach, like I was light as a feather, and entered me from behind.

Spreading my thighs for him and coming up to my knees, I felt him pushing me back down, a little more roughly than your trusted MD should.

“Legs closed and ass down, sweetheart. More friction.”

“You have a dirty side. I like it.”

“Good, because there are a lot of filthy things I want to do with you.”

He was right. This was so much hotter than the classic doggy style I’d watched in porn (okay, let’s just get it out of the way—I’d watched a lot of porn prior to having sex with Cruz).

It was exquisite, and rough, and full of passion. I felt like he was setting me on fire. Another orgasm rippled through me in no time.