Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs, #5)(59)

I sank two fingers into her as I sucked rainwater off her other nipple, crossing two items off my list. She bowed up off the ground against me, driving me insane with her reactions to me. And when her fingers closed around my cock again, I let myself go just a little crazy.

I thrust into her grip, driving my fingers into her sweet pussy in time.

Our breathing was hard and fast. Her eyes were glassy and half closed. She opened wider for me, inviting me deeper, and I thrust in to the knuckle, holding her there.

“Jonah,” her teeth chattered. “I want—I want you,” she hissed.

I could feel her muscles tightening around my fingers, felt that ache echoed in my own groin. Fingers and hands were good. But we both desperately needed more. It was biology. Pure, raw, primal.

I pulled out of her and took her hand away from my erection. “Hold on to me,” I instructed.

She did as she was told, slipping her hands behind my neck, linking her fingers.

I settled my hips between her legs, the tip of my cock brushing the wet, welcoming folds.

Impatient now, Shelby bucked against me, and I reveled in the feel of my cock slipping over her clit.

Leaning in, I allowed myself another lick at her breast. And when she bowed back, when her knees fell open, I drove myself into her.

Our shouts of triumph, of awe, caught on the rain. I was inside her, gripped by her slick, velvety flesh. Muscles quivering, I dug my toes into the ground so I could stay buried inside.

Her nails bit into my back, and she chanted words, nonsensical sounds, softly as she fought for air. This was Nirvana. This moment of two bodies joining after the teasing, before the fulfillment. This was a recognition of sameness.

She flexed, tightening around me, and I had to move then. Withdrawing, I paused. Savored. Then decadently slid back inside, needing to feel her close like a fist around me.

“How does it feel?” she whispered.

“So good, Shelby. So fucking good,” I promised her, moving again. Loving the drag of her flesh over mine. Was it special because it had been so long? Or was it because it was Shelby? My roommate. My client. My friend.

“Don’t you dare stop or come to your senses,” she pleaded with a laugh.

I flinched as the laugh had her tightening further. Sweat already dotted my forehead, and I knew I couldn’t hang on forever. I kept my thrusts measured, controlled. Focusing on the beauty of the joining even as the need to go harder, faster, clawed its way up my throat.

She hitched her legs higher up on my hips and bucked into me.

I wanted to give her what she needed, what she craved, what she chased. I just hoped I could hold on long enough. I thrust harder, and she murmured her approval against my neck. Her breasts, those lush curves, were flatted to me, and I wished I could taste them again. I settled for slipping a hand between our bodies and caressing that soft skin, that taut nipple.

She liked it.

“Yes, Jonah. Oh, yes!” She was breathless.

And I was pummeling into her now, pinning her to the forest floor with fast, vicious strokes of my cock. But she welcomed the speed, the need, the greed. Encouraged it with the way those silky inner muscles danced over the veins of my cock.

She was leading me toward a climax I wasn’t sure I could survive.

I needed to get her there first.

With regret, I abandoned her breast and slid my hand lower. As I thrust into her like a warrior, an animal, my thumb slicked over her sensitive bud. Her body tensed, every muscle and her breath stopped.

I bit at her neck, her shoulder, still thrusting, still circling that beautiful little clit. And then she came back to life under me as her orgasm detonated.

I felt her come, closing fist-tight around my cock. Her hips undulating to chase down the waves that wracked her body. I couldn’t hold out a second longer. As she clamped down on me again, I felt it race up my spine, stabbing through my balls. And then I was coming harder than I ever had before into her as she teased and squeezed every drop of my release from me. She was still coming in gentle, distant pulses when I collapsed on her, sealing our orgasms together.





32





Jonah





There are few things more awkward than having sex for the first time and then walking in on your own surprise party.

I was pretty sure what Shelby and I had been up to was written all over our faces—and tangled up in her hair, judging from the dried pine needles that were still shaking free.

“Surprise!” My mother, the Bodines, the Tuckers, and the Thompsons bellowed when we climbed off our bikes.

“Well, there goes Round Two,” Shelby said under her breath.

Once the rain broke, once we’d dragged our wet clothes back on, we’d pedaled like hell for home. For a shower and a second shot at each other, this time in a bed.

I stared longingly at the front door. Between it and us were over a dozen people, a pig, and a puppy, ready and waiting to celebrate my birthday.

Shocked, I slapped a stupid smile on my face and waded in to accept the congratulations. I could tell by the smug look my sister was shooting in my direction that she had guessed exactly what Shelby and I had been up to.

After accepting the first round of congratulations, I escaped for a five-minute shower during which I thought of nothing but how it felt to be inside Shelby. I turned the faucet all the way to cold until my hard-on finally gave up. Apparently now that the dry spell was over, I was going to be walking around sporting wood all day every day.