The Game Plan (Game On, #3)(65)

When I bottom out, I pause because it’s just too good. But Fi is grasping my hair, shoving her tit in my mouth like she’ll die if I don’t suck harder, and writhing as if she needs more.

And I can’t hold back. We both groan as I work her in an easy, undulating rhythm that has no pause, because it’s heaven f*cking Fi. Pure, perfect heaven. Every thrust I take grows a little harder, goes a little deeper, my piercing sliding over that spot within her that has her gasping a reedy “ah!” each time.

I mouth her nipple, my tongue sliding over it. Heat licks up my thighs and down my spine. I groan, slamming into her, again and again. And she loves it, her hands gripping my shoulders, her legs wrapping tight around my waist as she slumps against the marble countertop.

“Ethan. Ethan.” It’s a weak, needy cry.

I bend over her, practically crawling onto the counter with her, pumping with blind lust now. She’s utterly beautiful spread out before me, her expression slack with pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” she says.

I won’t. I can’t.

This. This is what I want, what I need, this connection with Fiona in whatever variation I can get for as long as I can.

She comes on a sob, and it breaks me. How am I going to let her go again? My orgasm takes my breath, my voice. I empty myself into her, giving her everything I have, and it won’t be enough to keep her here.

It’s never enough.





Chapter Twenty-Nine





Fiona



Airport again. Why do they all smell the same? Dex walks me to the TSA line, and I feel like I’m going to my execution. My entire body wants to resist moving forward. Maybe Dex does too because he doesn’t try to hurry me along, even though my sluggish pace causes him to take unnaturally short steps.

When we get within sight of the line, his fingertips press my lower back, as if he’s entertaining ideas of grabbing hold and pulling me away. I wouldn’t object.

With a soft sort of grunt, he turns me into his embrace. I get a glimpse of his eyes, serious and pained. His warm hands cradle my cheeks, and then he’s kissing me.

It’s deep, desperate, and savoring, as if he’s putting his entire heart into each touch and taste, as if he’s trying to memorize every second. And I’m lost. Utterly lost.

Sounds fade. There is only Ethan and how good he feels, how good he makes me feel. I’m on my toes, my arms wrapped around his neck, as I kiss him back, consumed by my need for him. I don’t know how long we stand there, but when he moves his mouth from mine to explore my jaw, taking soft nibbles, my lips feel tender and swollen.

Big hands caress my back, my sides, sliding down to the crest of my butt and up to just under my breasts. Keeping it decent but driving me wild all the same.

“Be sure to drink water,” he murmurs against my skin, kissing my neck, my chin, mouth, cheek.

“’Kay.” My hands roam too, finding the hard rounds of his massive shoulders, sliding over his firm pecs.

He tugs me closer, his breath warm on my skin. “Some strange guy tries to talk to you, tell him to f*ck off.”

I laugh at that.

Ethan doesn’t. He grazes the side of my neck with his teeth, his beard tickling. “Make an effort to stretch your legs.”

“Ethan,” I run my fingers through his silky hair. “It’s not that long of a plane ride.”

“It’s too long,” he grumps. And I know he isn’t talking about time but distance. My breath hitches with a twinge of pain.

It breaks the spell between us. He takes a step back, his hands falling away as if holding me any longer hurts him.

He stares down at me with eyes suspiciously bright and glassy. “Safe flight, Fi.”

“See you soon, Ethan.”

His nod is a ghost of a movement.

It takes effort to move, to take the handle of my roll-on bag. I’m turning to go when he mutters an oath and grabs me. I’m engulfed by a wall of muscle and arms of steel. He hugs me tight, hunching over me, his nose buried in the crook of my neck.

My arms wrap around his waist, fingers digging into the loose fabric of his shirt.

He breathes in deep, then lets it go with a shaky gust. “I hate this. I hate it so much.” His grip makes my ribs protest, and his voice goes rough. “I feel like some essential organ is being ripped from me.”

My eyes burn, my throat locking up tight. I have to swallow hard to speak. “Ethan…”

But he shakes his head and sets me away from him. His expression is almost angry, jaw set beneath the blanket of his beard. “Time to go, Cherry. Just…don’t look back, okay? Or I won’t be able to let you go.”

Fuck. My vision blurs. Sniffling, I nod. “All right.”

But I can’t move.

With a sad smile, he takes me by the shoulders and turns me toward the dreaded TSA line. “Go on now.” His big hand slaps my butt. “Get.”

I jump a little, glaring over my shoulder. “You sounded awfully Southern just now, mister.”

That smile quirks. “Went to a Southern university. Guess I picked up a few things, ma’am.” The smile falls. “Go on, Cherry. Don’t look back.”

“I won’t.” I can’t. Or I’ll never leave.

My rolling bag weighs a thousand pounds as I drag it behind me, every step taking me farther away from Ethan. I don’t turn around, but I feel him watching. I know he won’t go until I’m out of sight.