Drew + Fable Forever (One Week Girlfriend #3.5)(8)
“Sounds perfect.” He smiles and kisses me again, on the tip of my nose, and I laugh when he grabs my hand and yanks me off the sand. I wipe my butt with my free hand, then snag my beach bag, slinging it over my shoulder as he starts dragging me back toward the hotel.
He’s eager, his long strides eating up the sand, and I have to practically run to keep up. I’m eager, too. My heart is racing, my skin is hot, and my ni**les are hard beneath the tiny string bikini Drew picked out for me earlier this morning in the hotel guest shop.
Yes, my husband likes to see me prance around on the beach practically naked.
But I don’t care. I don’t look half bad. He’s such a fitness freak and so is Owen, so I’ve taken to exercising with them. They jog, I jog. They go to the gym, I’m at the gym with them, running on the treadmill, using the elliptical until I’m moaning and groaning in pain. They just laugh at me.
It’s fun, though, being with them. My boys. My family.
They’re the only ones I have.
Drew
The hotel we’re staying at is top notch, the best money can buy, and I paid a pretty-ass penny for the suite we’re in, especially since we booked it so last minute. It’s huge—you could probably fit a family of six in there—with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a gourmet kitchen. Ridiculous, since we’re not cooking a damn thing in this place.
And the lanai with the ocean view is amazing. All open air and giant windows, it’s filled with huge overstuffed couches and chairs, the doors kept wide open so the warm, salty air drifts into the room, washing over our skin. Like our own little paradise, which it is. Right now, I feel like Fable and I are in our own little world, the only two people on this planet.
The sun-kissed air washes over my heated skin at this very moment, not doing a thing to cool me off. Not that I want to be cooled off. I have my wife in my arms, my hands gripping her ass beneath the thin fabric of her bikini bottom. Her body is slammed against mine, warm and soft, her br**sts so snug against my bare chest I can feel her ni**les poking through the fabric of her top.
Our mouths are fused, our tongues sliding against each other, hot and soft. I lift her and she immediately gets what I want, going with me easily, her legs slipping around my waist as she clings to me like she’s never going to let go. I remove one hand from her ass to settle it over the center of her back, slowly tugging the string on her bikini. The knot unravels easily, her top loosening around her chest as I crawl my fingers up her back to her neck, making her giggle against my lips.
“What are you doing?” she asks, muffling her laughter by pressing her lips together as I undo the tie at her nape.
“What does it look like?” I raise a brow and lean away from her a bit, pulling the top off completely and tossing it on the floor. “I’m getting you naked, my pretty wife.”
“I really like it when you call me your wife.” Her green eyes darken, a sure sign she’s aroused. “You should return the favor, you know, and get naked, too.”
“I need to get you completely naked first.” I drop her on the bed, smiling when she bounces on the mattress.
“I’ll help you with that.” She flashes me a wicked smile as she reaches for the little strings that wrap around her hips and starts pushing the bottoms down those smooth, tanned legs of hers. That swimsuit I bought her earlier is almost indecent. It barely covers her and it cost a fortune.
Worth every dime I spent.
She looks f**king amazing. She’s a tease with the suit on and a siren with it off.
And now the suit is most definitely off. She’s flung the bikini bottoms onto the floor along with the top and then leans back against the pillows at the head of the bed, elbows propped, legs bent at the knees. She spreads them the slightest bit, offering me a view of all that she has, and that’s it.
I’m done for.
A throaty laugh escapes her as I hurriedly shove my swim trunks off me, kicking them away. My dick is painfully hard as I join her on the bed. Last night had been amazing, nonstop sex, with us falling asleep and waking up a few hours later only to go at it again. We’d been so busy with other stuff, especially this last month, it’s like we were making up for lost time.
My life has been nothing but go, go, go since I signed with the Niners. The intense training and practice wore me completely out. Then with all the planning of the trip and wedding, the packing, and the long flight, we’d both collapsed into bed the first night we got to the island.
The emotional sunset ceremony on the beach, the realization that this was it, we were officially married, revved up my energy level big time. It seemed to do the same for her, because holy hell, we were crazed for each other.
Our connection was stronger than ever. Last night, the sex had been ferocious, intense, all-consuming. I feel that way every time I see her, touch Fable, kiss her.
I should be exhausted but I’m not. My body is on high alert, my skin so tight and hot I feel like I’m going to burst as I let my gaze rove over my new wife’s sexy-as-hell body. Damn, she’s beautiful. Will I ever grow tired of looking at her? Touching her? Kissing her? Fucking her?
No. Never.
“Come here, Drew,” she says, her voice a husky whisper, and I crawl up the bed, crawl up over her. She spreads her legs and I settle in between them, my hips nudging against hers, my insistent c**k rubbing her soft belly. She slips her arms around my neck as I bend my head to kiss her, drink from her lips, taste her tongue. Her hands bury in my hair as I break away from her to trail kisses down the length of her neck, her collarbone, her chest, the tops of her br**sts.