Page 61 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell (Rock Canyon, Idaho 7)

“I’m sorry, did you think we were done?” he asked, outrage evident in his voice.

She turned her head away, resting her cheek on his chest so he wouldn’t see her smile. “We’re not?”

He flexed his hard cock inside her. “Hell no.”

Chapter Twenty

“I never understood why in horror movies, when people are faced with danger, they just stand there. Run you idiots! Run!” - Miss Know-It-All’s Gossip Column.

Eric vaguely heard the distant sound of barking, but it was hard to really process much beyond the thundering blood in his ears. As he held Gracie’s soft curves against him, sliding in and out of her warmth, his breathing became ragged. Being with her consumed him. He’d been dreaming of sinking into her, of having her wrapped around him and breaking into a million pieces because of the things he did to her. Because she wanted him.

Now that he had it, he didn’t want to stop. Never wanted it to end.

But he could feel the thread of his self-control snap as she squeezed her muscles around him. Her hips jerked over him, and he sensed that she was close again.

Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and thought of anything else but the slide of her tits against his chest. Of the way his dick vibrated with restraint to the point of pain.

When she mewled loudly, he covered her lips with his and let go. He groaned into her mouth as he came inside her.

He finally pulled away, sucking in air and trying to speak, and realized they hadn’t even talked about birth control. He assumed if she wasn’t on the pill, she would have stopped him, but if he was wrong…

>

“Please tell me you’re on the pill.”

Gracie laughed breathlessly. “A little late in asking, but yeah. We’re good.”

“Good. Good. And I’m clean, if you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t. I trust you not to give me some nasty-ass STD.”

Eric’s chuckle turned into a cough as he realized how dry his throat was. “Ah, you trust me? That’s so sweet.”

She hit his upper arm with the flat of her hand. “You’re ruining the afterglow.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” He kissed her neck, and she pulled away with a giggle.

“You’re gonna have to lose the beard,” she said.

His jaw dropped. “What? You want me to give up my beard for you?”

“Yes, it tickles and scratches.”

“Come on, you know you love the beard. You think it’s hot.”

Gracie pursed her lips. “I do, huh?”

“Hell yeah. Didn’t you call me a sexy lumberjack?”

“Ha, in your dreams maybe—”

The deep bay of a dog made them both jerk, and their heads swung toward the only exit to the little shack.

“What is the matter with you, Brutus?” Mr. Melvin’s gravelly voice was loud enough to be heard through the door, but there was no telling how close he was.

“What do we do?” Gracie hissed.

“I’m thinking.”