Page 96
Story: Mended Hearts
“Say something.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Motion denied.Next?”
“You could have anyone.”
“I’m standing here with you, aren’t I?”
“There are things I haven’t told you.”
“Then tell me when you’re ready.”
“You really mean all that?” she whispered.
“I’ve got all the time in the world to convince you.”
“And… what if I already believe you?” She flushed as she said it.
“I promised to beg for another night, didn’t I?”
“You can have all my nights, Ollie.”
Fuck. If I wasn’t a grown-ass man, I might have thumped my chest likeTarzan. “Good. Because I’ve been trying to think of how to steal them.”
She laughed, rising onto her toes to kiss me again. I pulled her into me, spinning with equal parts joy and disbelief. She was here. She was mine. No screaming or anger, or veiled threats. But then Leighton was letting go, my heart sinking and then bolting forward as her fingers trailed down my abs, to the knot of the towel.
She looked up, eyes hungry. My cock jerked in response.
“What would you say,” she asked, voice sultry, “if I wanted to thank you for the most perfect night out?”
15
Impossibly Possible
LEIGHTON
“I’d tell you there’s not a fucking chance. We do this my way this time.”
Before I could reply, he surged forward, scooped me into his arms, and pivoted toward his bedroom.
“Ollie!” I squeaked—right before his mouth crashed into mine, urgent and ravenous, licking deep until every painstaking hour of education melted into a slick puddle of brain-goop.
All sense? Gone.
Independence?Haven’t seen her.
I was waist-deep in a rush of heat, thighs squeezing together as he carried us somewhere—who cared where? Oliver Hart was kissing me.
And he kissed like I’d starved him of oxygen, like the world began and ended right here beneath the sure command of his mouth and the possessive grip of his hands. I looped my arms around his neck, tugging him closer, shuddering when he bit my lower lip in invitation. My fingers buried in his hair.
“What are you doing?” I breathed.
“Taking my time.” His words brushed my lips before he dove back in. “I was going to do this the right way, Leighton. I was going todate you.”
“You’re my best friend in this city, and I’ve already sucked your dick, so that’s wildly unnecessary.”
“Jesus Christ, Trouble.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Motion denied.Next?”
“You could have anyone.”
“I’m standing here with you, aren’t I?”
“There are things I haven’t told you.”
“Then tell me when you’re ready.”
“You really mean all that?” she whispered.
“I’ve got all the time in the world to convince you.”
“And… what if I already believe you?” She flushed as she said it.
“I promised to beg for another night, didn’t I?”
“You can have all my nights, Ollie.”
Fuck. If I wasn’t a grown-ass man, I might have thumped my chest likeTarzan. “Good. Because I’ve been trying to think of how to steal them.”
She laughed, rising onto her toes to kiss me again. I pulled her into me, spinning with equal parts joy and disbelief. She was here. She was mine. No screaming or anger, or veiled threats. But then Leighton was letting go, my heart sinking and then bolting forward as her fingers trailed down my abs, to the knot of the towel.
She looked up, eyes hungry. My cock jerked in response.
“What would you say,” she asked, voice sultry, “if I wanted to thank you for the most perfect night out?”
15
Impossibly Possible
LEIGHTON
“I’d tell you there’s not a fucking chance. We do this my way this time.”
Before I could reply, he surged forward, scooped me into his arms, and pivoted toward his bedroom.
“Ollie!” I squeaked—right before his mouth crashed into mine, urgent and ravenous, licking deep until every painstaking hour of education melted into a slick puddle of brain-goop.
All sense? Gone.
Independence?Haven’t seen her.
I was waist-deep in a rush of heat, thighs squeezing together as he carried us somewhere—who cared where? Oliver Hart was kissing me.
And he kissed like I’d starved him of oxygen, like the world began and ended right here beneath the sure command of his mouth and the possessive grip of his hands. I looped my arms around his neck, tugging him closer, shuddering when he bit my lower lip in invitation. My fingers buried in his hair.
“What are you doing?” I breathed.
“Taking my time.” His words brushed my lips before he dove back in. “I was going to do this the right way, Leighton. I was going todate you.”
“You’re my best friend in this city, and I’ve already sucked your dick, so that’s wildly unnecessary.”
“Jesus Christ, Trouble.”
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