The Dugout(81)

Hard as a goddamn stone, I pull a condom from my bag next to the bed, sheath myself, and flip her over. Her breasts sway with her movements and I consider playing with them for a little bit, but if I don’t get inside her right now, I literally might die.

“Milly?” She opens her eyes and sees me hovering above her. “Please tell me I can get inside you now.”

She doesn’t answer, instead, she spreads her legs and reaches down to my cock. She guides me to her entrance and with what little control I have left, I guide myself in, the entire time trying to focus on every last inch.

“Oh, Carson.” Her eyes widen. “Oh you feel . . . oh Jesus, you feel so good.”

“You feel so . . . goddamn perfect,” I grit out, my control snapping with every inch. “Shit, Milly. I want to go slow, but it’s not going to happen. I need to fuck you.”

“I need you to fuck me too,” she says, surprising the hell out of me.

I lean down and press a light kiss across her lips. “I’ll be slow next time.”

She kisses me back and loops her feet around my calves. I give her a few more kisses before I start thrusting. I’m slow for a second—one fucking second—until my hips start to piston in and out of her. I prop myself up on my hands, my muscles straining, her moans spurring me on, making me go deeper and deeper until I bottom out.

The first hit is like tapping into euphoria.

The second creates a bolt of white-hot bliss straight through my balls.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.”

She doesn’t answer me as her own orgasm takes her. Her fingers dig into my skin and our hips move together, her pleasure spurring mine on until I’m coming so goddamn hard I can’t see anything. All I can feel is the indescribable feeling of my orgasm ripping and tearing through every last inch of my body.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” I groan, spilling inside her.

My hips slow down but don’t fully stop. I don’t want to stop yet. I want to feel her wrapped around me, like a glove, like we were made for each other.

Her arms loop around my neck and her mouth finds mine. Together, we make out, our tongues greedy, our arms desperately clinging to one another, and our pelvises still connected. Desperation to stay close flows between us, the need to become one taking over.

And while our mouths explore each other after the most intense orgasm of my life, I realize that Milly isn’t just it for me. She’s my soul mate, put on this earth to be by my side and for me to be by hers.

I love this girl, hard.

So fucking hard.

And even though the road ahead might be a challenge depending on where I’m drafted and where Milly ends up, I know we’re going to make it. I saw our future tonight in the love between Milly’s parents. It was in the way they looked at each other, with deep respect, with frequent amusement, and with genuine, selfless love. It was in the way they listened to each other, that even after twenty-something years together, nothing was assumed. That’s what Milly’s known for her whole life, so that’s what she expects . . . and deserves. And I know, with all my fucking heart, that I won’t rest until we have that. Tonight, she let me inside her body, but I’m hoping I’m already inside her heart, because I know she already owns mine. The bond we have, this connection, it’s what the greatest loves stories are made of. It’s what I want our story to be made of.





Chapter Twenty-Two





MILLY





“That’s the last one,” Carson says, setting a box on the ground. Bare-chested, with his shirt tucked into the back of his athletic shorts, and a rolled-up bandana tied across his forehead, he looks incredibly tempting. It’s been hard to avoid staring at him the entire time we’ve been moving my things into my new apartment.

I have more possessions than I thought. I filled up the smallest U-Haul truck I could rent with things from my parents’ house and of course, everything from my dorm. I wasn’t expecting to even make a dent on the space in the truck.

Carson and Jason have been amazing, helping me move all my boxes and small pieces of furniture into my apartment, never once complaining.

Cory and I agreed upon an apartment near Hyde Park where the new facility will be. There’s a doorman, concierge service, and an onsite coffee house, but the apartments aren’t huge and the studio—which I forced him to agree upon—is perfect for me. I’ll give him the security aspect of the building and the location, but I managed to choose the size of the place.

Of course, when I came to the apartment to check it out, it was furnished with a black iron queen-sized bed, beautiful white and light pink bedding, a white wood bistro set with a round table, and two small grey wingback chairs with accompanying white coffee table. Not to mention the giant flat-screen mounted on the wall, the kitchen utensils, and fresh flowers.

It was such a sweet and kind gesture, but since the place is so small, I needed Carson and Jason to help me take stuff back to my parents’ house.

But I’m not going to complain, because this is the perfect place to retreat to after a long day.

Because Cory is Cory—the most giving man I know—he put together a trust fund for me for after I graduated. It’s more than I should have in a bank account, but I plan on doing great things with it—investing in my brothers’ business.