Page 85 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

“Need lube.” Pierce stroked himself as he stood and offered me his free hand. “Come.”

The caveman grunts and tube socks were an amusing combo, but I wasn’t capable of speech myself. I took his hand and followed him into the guest room we’d already wrecked earlier in the day. The sheets and comforter were a tangled mess in the middle of the mattress. I kicked them aside as I wriggled out of my pa-jajas and boxer briefs.

Pierce slicked his fingers with lube, then lay next to me, scooting till his head was in my lap. I moaned like a ho when he pushed my legs open and slipped a single digit inside just as he bent to swallow me whole.

I tugged his hair and fucked his mouth while riding his talented fingers…plural. Three fingers in, I was frantic with need.

“Now, please. Now.”

Pierce added more lube, pushed my knees to my chest, and inched his way inside. We had a system of our own and knew how to read each other. He knew when to stop, when to slow his roll, and when to move. And I could tell when he was hanging on by a thread, but holding it together for my sake. Like now.

He kissed my knees and caressed my thighs, and when I lowered my eyes and nodded, he rocked his hips. “Fuck, you’re so…so good. So hot, so tight, so…good.”

“Yes, yes, more!”

I hummed, lapping up praise as I arched into him. And this was all I needed. This was everything I never thought I’d feel with anyone ever again. The give-and-take, push-and-pull were steps in a dance we’d mastered in a relatively short time. I scratched his sides as I wrapped my arms around him.

He hoisted my legs over his shoulders and pumped faster and harder. The bedsprings protested with every thrust. It was comically loud—like a small aircraft attempting to land loud—and after a few minutes, we both chuckled.

That could have, should have been an erection killer, but something completely unexpected happened instead. We sobered with a sigh and found a new rhythm—sweet and slow, patient and deliberate. Every stroke resonated deep within me, igniting a spark that went beyond the physical.

There was something in the way he looked at me, the way he held me, the way he smiled. He seemed almost dazed and protective, as though he couldn’t believe I was real and that I was his…if only for now. It was a heady, beautiful thing to be the one Pierce wanted, needed, but this was more. This was unfettered affection, so soft and warm, it felt like home.Hefelt like home.

That was dangerous thinking. Home was a fantasy, and he could never love me like I—

Oh, no.

I was not that big of an idiot. No way would I fall for him.

No way, no way, no—

“Open your eyes, baby. Let me see you,” he purred. “So fucking pretty. My sweet, sweet Lo.”

My eyes burned and welled with every sweet nothing that felt like everything. I had no power here. This was a runaway train, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I could only hold on and hope for the best.

So…I surrendered.

I came with a force so strong, it zapped breath from my lungs. I panted, gulping for air when Pierce pinned my hands near my head and joined me, roaring as he filled me, pumping his hips with abandon.

This was where he’d joke about someone hearing the bedsprings in the next county or slip his hand between my thighs to feel his cum dripping from my hole. Pierce had a gift for mixing humor and wonder. What should have seemed ridiculous or downright nasty became an inside secret—an absurd, silly moment for two sealed with a smile that made my heart race.

Oh, fuck.

I was in trouble.

15

PIERCE

The ocean breeze rustled the leaves of the lemon trees. I flopped onto the hillside bench facing the ocean in Jasper’s backyard, turned my baseball cap backward, and waited for Lo to join me. He was cold from our walk on the beach and had insisted on grabbing a heavier sweater.

We’d become vampires, venturing out to explore the town early in the morning or after dark. The only stores open now would be coffee shops and at 6 a.m. on Sunday, I figured we could get away with popping in for a cup of joe and a donut on Ocean Avenue. It wasn’t like we were going to make out in the middle of the street.

And if anyone noticed us, we’d go with the assistant story. No biggie.

Buzz buzz

I ignored my cell. I inhaled deeply, hoping to stave off an itchy, panicky feeling when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Again.