The Reunion(77)
Fuck, I forgot about that.
I groan into her lips, barely believing that after all these years, I’m actually touching her, kissing her.
Heady lust courses through me while I get lost in her mouth. My fingers play with her hardened nipple, moving the barbell back and forth ever so slightly. She moans quietly and turns to face me, but I stop her and push her back on the mattress.
“Stay where you are,” I say, catching my breath.
I position myself so I’m hovered above her now. Looking her in the eyes, I move one side of the shirt all the way open, revealing one of her breasts. Glancing down, my mouth waters as I take her in. I play with her nipple piercing. “When did you get this done?”
“Italy,” she says, her body lightly rocking beneath me. “Spur of the moment, loved it ever since.”
“Does it feel good when I play with them?”
“More than you can imagine.” Her legs part again, and she scoots up on the bed. “I’m going to need you to play a little farther south,” she whispers.
“Is that so?” I smile. “Are you ready for me?”
“Very.” She takes my hand in hers and pulls it down her body, placing it right between her legs before taking my fingers and running them along her slit.
“Shit, Palmer,” I say as I move my fingers inside her. “You’re so wet.”
“You’re killing me.” She takes the back of my neck and pulls me down to her mouth again. I get lost in the way her tongue flicks against mine, in the way her mouth molds to mine, in the demanding way she asks for more while I slowly move my fingers in and out of her. I start with one finger but gradually move to two. She stiffens for a moment but then relaxes and lets me pulse in and out of her, her hips joining in on the movement.
My cock aches as it casually rubs against her leg, and I wonder if I’m going to be able to get through this, making it about her, though I know that’s what she needs. This isn’t about me and my needs—it’s about Palmer and feeling worthy.
She’s worthy of so much, and I’m not sure she sees that about herself.
At least I can help her a little.
I glide my mouth across her jaw and back to her lips while I move my thumb to her clit. Her mouth pops open, and I swallow her moan before she can make too much noise. “Quiet,” I whisper with a grin. “You promised to be quiet.”
“S-sorry,” she stutters as she starts to shake beneath me. Her good arm wraps around my neck, holding me in place, her mouth unrelenting as it takes and takes.
And I let her.
I let her have control.
I let her twist and thrust under me.
I let her set the pace.
“Yes,” she pants into my mouth, now riding my fingers as I keep them still. “Oh my God, yes, Beau.” Her voice is a strangled whisper as she pumps harder and harder. I press harder on her clit, and her fingernails dig into my back. “Oh . . . fuck,” she mumbles right before I feel her clamp around me, and she rides my fingers with abandon as she comes.
Her moans feel like shock waves down my spine.
Her grip spurs me on.
And the way she rubs against my erection makes it so goddamn difficult to stay focused on her.
When she slows down, I take a deep breath with her and then straighten her shirt and button it back up.
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asks.
“I’m making sure you’re covered up.”
“Why?”
“Because.” I lean down and kiss her nose after finishing with the last button. “It’s time to get some rest.”
“But—”
“I said time for some rest.”
“Beau, I can feel how hard you are.”
“Perfect, so can I.” She gives me a look, and I smooth her hair down while pressing another kiss to her lips. “That was just for you. What you can do for me is get some rest.”
“But I don’t understand.”
“There’s nothing to understand,” I say. “I like taking care of you—let me do that.” I took care of her after the fire, and I’m taking care of her now. It feels right, like this is what I’m supposed to do, protect this woman. Be the man she deserves.
“Okay.” She looks unsure. “What happens tomorrow?”
“What do you mean what happens tomorrow?”
“In the morning.” She turns toward me. “When it’s time to leave. Do we shake hands and say thank you? Do we talk about maybe, I don’t know . . . like a lunch date or something?”
As if I could shake hands and be on my merry way. Not with her. This moment, having her in my arms, it brings . . . relief. Like I’ve been holding my breath ever since I left high school, and now I finally get to exhale.
I inwardly smile. She wants to know about the “morning after.” Well, it’s an easy answer for me, but I’m not sure where her head is.
“What do you want to happen?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I need to know what you want.”
I drape my hand on her hip. “I think you know what I want, Palmer, but I happen to live here. This is my home, and it’s where I’m going to be for a very long time. It’s up to you to decide what you want.”
She closes her eyes and snuggles in close to me, her cast moving over my stomach. “I don’t know what I want, Beau. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life.”