Until You (The Redemption, #1)(54)

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles and then pushes into me, my strangled cry echoing off the dust floating through the air. “Christ,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to my shoulder for a beat as sensations, as pleasure, as the feel of me wrapped around him, overwhelms him.

It’s the scrape of my nails over his hips that brings him out of his desirous coma. It’s the plea of his name that urges him to move. It’s the clenching of my muscles around his cock that snaps him to the here. To the now. To the need that I have and the greed that I willingly admit to.

Within seconds, we’re a fast and furious mess of nipped lips, my fingers digging into his biceps and his into my hips, and traitorous bodies trying to prolong the buildup before the fall but failing miserably.

We come in a torrent of hushed words.

Quiet.

Oh my God.

Shh.

Harder.

Faster.

Fuck me, Crew.

Hold on, Tenny.

I can’t wait.

Come for me.

It’s my riotous mewl that fills the room. It’s his hand that covers my mouth to muffle the sound as he pounds into me, the table shaking beneath us as Crew’s climax slams into him seconds after mine does me.

And it’s then—when we’re both riding the peak of pleasure, trying to stay quiet but turned on even more by the thought of being caught—that the table leg breaks beneath me.

Our yelps fill the empty room when in an instant the table slants and we both go tumbling into each other.

And then it’s laughter. Pure, unfiltered laughter edged by the high of our orgasms, as Crew lies on top of me as I slide down and off the table, legs in the air, arms flailing.

We land in a thump on the ground, half undressed, cheeks flushed, bodies still climaxing, breaths panting, and laughter still slipping from our mouths.

Crew presses a kiss to my lips. A delve of the tongue. A nip of my bottom lip. “Promise me you’ll wear those panties again later.”

“I’ll wear anything you want so long as you make me come like that again.”

“Quickies are overrated,” he murmurs and presses another kiss to my lips before standing and pulling me up off the floor.

“Definitely overrated.”

“Tenny?” The call of my name and the sound of the door shoving open has the two of us shrieking quietly. He quickly shoves his cock back into his jeans, while I try to straighten my skirt and put my breast back into my bra that somehow Crew had pulled out in our crazed frenzy.

“Back here,” I call out as the two of us fall into another fit of giggles.

“I was just helping her find those banners,” Crew calls out as the clickety-clack of Bobbi Jo’s shoes draws closer.

“Look at you,” she says when she meets the end of our aisle. “Always so helpful.”

We fight the urge to laugh again, but damn is it hard with the taste of his kiss still on my tongue, the ache he caused still present between my thighs, and the knowing smirk on his lips.

Quickies are definitely overrated.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Tennyson




This chapter is a mess. Grammar-wise, it seems like my author was drunk when she wrote it. And plot-wise, there are holes so big you could drive a truck through.

I lean back in my chair and stare at the screen until the words blur and the muted sounds of the girls filming a video is all I hear.

“Knock. Knock.”

“Hey.” I swivel around in my chair to find Crew standing in the doorway. His hands are shoved in his jean pockets, his feet are bare, and his shoulder is resting against the doorjamb.

I’m sucker-punched by the sight of him. I shouldn’t be, considering I see him every day now, but there’s something about the moment, about the look on his face, and his presence in general, that makes me sit back and admire the whole of him.

I know this won’t last—it can’t with the complication that is my life—and yet I know, if I had my pick of a guy I’d want, he would be just like Crew.

He would be Crew.

“It’s a nice night. Want to take a walk?”

“Um, sure.” This is a first.

But rather than grabbing the girls like I expect him to, Crew sets the alarm and then shuts the door behind us. “They’re fine without it, but they like to have it on when I’m not here,” he explains.

I nod and follow his lead as we head down one of the nearby horse trails. Once we’re out of eyesight of the house, he links his fingers with mine.

We walk in comfortable silence as the summer sun slowly makes its way toward the horizon. Its shine highlights the tall grass, giving it a halo of sorts, as it sways in the evening breeze. The trees stand tall around us with their birds chirping and flitting around from branch to branch.

“Thank you for inviting me today to help out. It was a lot of fun meeting people and helping build the stands.”

“You’re not mad at me for subjecting you to the ogling eyes of the Redemption Falls women’s club?”

“A little ogling every now and again does good for a man’s ego.”

“Oh, please. As if every time you step into town, you’re not followed around like you’re the Pied Piper and they’re just hoping to get your attention.”

“Whatever.” He laughs good-naturedly and swings our joined hands. “If I had to hear one more time what a great body and throaty laugh you had, I might have swung the hammer and accidentally missed and hit someone.”