Shameless(58)

I look down. A pale moonlight illuminates enough for me to see the erotic act, and the sight of us fitting together sends me over the edge. I tighten and pulse, collapsing on him when I can’t hold myself up any longer. “Oh, God.”

He threads his fingers through my hair. “I love watching you fall apart.”

Those strong arms wrap around me, and he kisses my forehead and relaxes back into the bed.

After a moment, I crack my eyes open. “Honey, what about you?”

A sigh. “Condom’s in the other room.” He chuckles. “See, told you I wasn’t coming for a booty call.”

Threading my fingers through his thick, black hair, I whisper, “You can either go get one… or I can take care of you another way.”

I slide down him and take his hard length in my hand. When I lick his skin, I taste him. I taste me. I feel like I should be embarrassed to be doing this, to be tasting us like this, but I’m not.

His head falls back as I hollow my cheeks and take him in my mouth. He groans. “Goddamn, that’s good.”

I want to smile but I can’t because my mouth is full. Instead, I pump and stroke and suck until he grunts out a warning. I let him slide out of my mouth and lean back slightly. Because I’ve been taking mental snapshots all night, and I want him to take one now too.

He’s watching me, jaw tight as he tenses and spills out across my breasts.

“Oh, f*ck,” he grunts, still throbbing in my slick hands as I repeat the motions, just slower. “That was so goddamn hot.”

He pulls me to him, and even though I’m damp and we’re sticky, I love that he wants to hold me. He whispers how beautiful I am and how much he loves hanging out with me.

I commit those words to memory. My mental scrapbook fills with his warm gaze and husky laugh. With his tender touches and whispered words.

When we stumble into the shower, I want to tell him I’ve changed my mind about our arrangement. I want to tell him I want more. That I want us to be together. That I want him to stay.

But I don’t because I promised.

No expectations. No demands.

And I’ll keep that promise.

Even if it ends up breaking my heart.





36





Brady





I can’t sleep, not with everything I need to do in the next few days, so I stroke Katherine’s back and listen to her breathe while I mentally go through my to-do list. Help Jose with an estimate. Rewire the chicken coop. Reattach the tire swing.

I’m starting with the fastest cosmetic changes I can make, hoping I won’t have to do anything major like paint the damn house. Although, really, I should. If this were my house, I’d do that this spring. And it could use some sanding and priming.

Kat said a few neighbors were coming by to adopt the kittens in a few weeks, and I didn’t miss how bummed she looked. That girl loves those kittens. I feel bad getting rid of them, but they’re the most easily adopted animals we have. Not sure what I’m going to do with that mammoth-sized “baby” raccoon, but one problem at a time.

I’m hoping I can talk to the neighbors about adopting some of our animals when we host that farmers’ event in two weeks. Shit. If getting rid of some kittens upsets Katherine, I can only imagine how she’ll look when I sell the chickens.

My hand threads through her hair. It’s silky soft. I breathe in her scent, wishing I could wake up to this in Boston.

Around midnight, her eyes flutter open. She leans up to kiss me, and we f*ck like it’s our last day on the planet. At least she had the foresight to grab the condoms last night after our shower where we enjoyed another round of orgasms.

I can’t get over how I actually like cramming into a twin bed with her. I’ve become notoriously anti-snuggle over the years. An old girlfriend may have broken up with me over this issue, but whatever. A man likes what a man likes, and even though I enjoy hugging women, I could never stand to have them all up in my space at night. Not that I ever treated them disrespectfully, but I don’t think it’s weird that once we were done with whatever bedtime activities we had, I appreciated sleeping on my side of the bed.

For some reason, Kat’s different.

Her head rests on my shoulder, her soft curves pressed to me, and her hair is everywhere—on my chest and shoulder, hell, a little is in my mouth—and I love it.

Not gonna lie. The sex is phenomenal. It might have something to do with how buttoned-up she seems, with her prim little glasses and polite Southern attitude.

But get Katherine naked, and there’s a dirty girl lurking with dirty moves, a dirty mouth and a sinfully hot body.

I kiss her forehead and relish how her arm tightens around me. My filthy girl.

If I were a good guy, I wouldn’t have given in. Or at least not more than once to scratch the itch, but I can’t be around her twenty-four seven and not want this. And if she’s willing to be together while I’m living here, I can’t bring myself to walk away. Yeah, I guess that makes me a selfish prick.

This shit is on my mind the rest of the night until the beautiful girl lifts her sleepy head and smiles at me.

“Can’t sleep?” she asks, her voice raspy and low and sexy as hell.

“Too much on my mind.” I can’t see the clock from here, but I’m guessing it’s early morning.