Ready for You (Ready #3)(54)

She leaned back on her elbows on the counter and looked up at me. Her half-lidded gaze almost knocked me to the floor as she wrapped a leg around my waist and pulled me closer.

“You want me to f**k you on the counter, Mia?”

She nodded, but I wanted to hear her say it.

“Then, tell me,” I commanded, running my fingers under the waistband of her panties.

She bit her lip, making me almost lose my cool demeanor. I loved it when she bit her lip. I’d once taken her under the bleachers after a football game because she’d bitten her lip too much and distracted me during the game.

“I want you, Garrett,” she whispered.

“You want me to what?” I countered.

Mia had been raised in a very rigid house. She’d uttered her first curse word in my presence at the age of fifteen. It had taken hours and a dare to finally get her to do it. She’d been terrified that her mother would somehow hear her from ten miles down the street.

“Fuck me,” she said quietly.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.”

I bunched up her panties in my hand, waiting for her next response. I was playing the man-in-charge role well, but inside, I was dying. I needed to be inside her so damn bad that I was nearly vibrating, but I wanted to hear her scream it.

“Fuck me!” she cried.

In one swift motion, I ripped the panties from her body and slid the boxers from my body.

I slammed into her. “Like this?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, God, yes!” she screamed.

I spread her legs wide and pulled her ass as close to the edge of the counter as I could without risking her falling off. She was still propped up on her elbows so that she could watch. Our eyes locked as I relentlessly pumped into her body, giving her everything I had.

But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. Wrapping my arms under her body, I pulled her up so she was facing me. Now we were touching everywhere. My hands roamed her waist, her br**sts, and over every other inch of skin her body owned. Our lips fused together, and my tongue merged with hers, thrusting into her mouth, as my body continued to pound into her.

Her body gripped my c**k like a glove, and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. Just when I felt my balls tighten to the point of no return, she cried out as I felt her body squeeze my dick like a vise, and I was gone. I spilled into her, feeling like I’d just run that marathon I swore I could have done when I woke up.

We had worked up quite a sweat.

My forehead found hers, and I tried to find my breath again. She bent down and her lips brushed my chest, and she kissed it as she clung to me.

“Garrett, what are we doing?” she whispered.

I’d known this was coming. She’d fallen asleep in my arms last night, and while lying awake, tangled in her sheets and nuzzled against her, I’d tried to prepare.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to stop.”

Her eyes lifted and met mine.

“I honestly don’t know what we are doing, Mia, but I know that I can’t walk out that door and go back to whatever we were doing before. I just can’t. I don’t know where this will take us, but I know one thing. I can’t seem to move forward in my life without you in it.”

Her gaze dropped once more, and her forehead fell against my chest. “You deserve better, Garrett, so much better,” she murmured.

I lifted her chin. “I don’t want anyone else, Mia. This turn in our relationship doesn’t mean it’s an instant fix for all past transgressions. I don’t know how to forgive you…”

She tried to look away, but I kept a firm grasp on her chin.

“But the difference now is that I want to. I want to forgive you. Let me try.”

Tears fell down her cheeks, and I carefully caught them with my thumbs and whisked them away.

“No tears, baby. We’ll figure this out,” I said with an encouraging smile I hoped she bought.

I was playing it by ear as much as she was, and I was probably just as scared. I had so much to overcome if we were going to make it through to the other side of whatever stood between happiness and us.

“So, what happens now?” she asked after the tears dried up.

I bent down and handed her back the shirt I’d thrown on the floor. “We take it one day at a time. Right now, you’re going to make me breakfast because I’m starving from that workout you gave me,” I said with a wicked grin. “Then, we’re going to go do whatever the hell you want for the rest of the day.”

She slipped the shirt over her head, and I silently mourned the absence of her br**sts from my view, but it was nice to see her back in my shirt. I slipped back into my boxers and helped her off the counter. I held her in my arms a bit longer.

“Don’t you have to work?” she asked, glancing at the clock.

It was just after seven in the morning on a Wednesday.

“Yes, but I think I just came down with the flu, and it’s bad. I’m gonna need a day off, maybe two.”

She looked stunned as she hit me on the arm. “I’m appalled, Garrett Finnegan! Playing hooky? I thought workaholics didn’t take days off.”

Sliding my hands underneath the T-shirt so that I could feel her bare ass again, I laughed. “I think I’ve been a workaholic long enough, don’t you? Besides, I’ve never taken a sick day before. I want to see what all the fuss is about.”