Page 60 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer

He feels exciting and new, familiar and safe. I grab his hair to pull his head back so I can see his eyes.

“This changes nothing,” I pant.

“This changes everything,” he grunts.

I’m fighting for control I didn’t know I wanted and melting from his touch at the same time. Noah moves a hand down my pants, and I realize he hasn’t even really touched me yet. Either I’m pathetic or I’ve forgotten how great we are together. But when his fingers breach my panties and push inside me, I forget everything altogether.

His hand is everywhere at once. Heel rubbing against my clit, one finger pulsing against my g-spot, another pumping smoothly in and out, and another breaching my ass. I’m not even sure how he has enough fingers for all those places at once, but I’m not questioning it.

The man has always had magic hands, and this is just a reminder. Because I’m going to come again.

I bury my face in his neck and bite down hard. His entire body shudders with mine as I ride out my orgasm, the sounds of his enjoyment of me, his heavy breathing, his desperation to have more of me, it all just makes me hotter and feeling more out of control. We haven’t been together in over two years. I haven’t been with anyone else. I know the same is not true for him. And I don’t care. At the very least, I don’t care right now.

I paw at his jeans to undo them and release his cock. We both groan as I grab it around the base. Thick, hot, long, hard… and sticky.

I look at him, one brow raised.

He leans back slightly and throws his hands up. “Yeah, okay. You did it. You made me come in my pants like a kid who can’t control himself. Happy?”

His expression is a cross between embarrassed and exasperated, making me laugh.

And laugh.

It occurs to me I haven’t laughed like this in a really long time. Where everything is fucked up and perfect. Where I feeloppressed and free. And I remember just how good this man makes me feel, not only sexually, but all the time. It only takes a second before he’s laughing with me. I grab his chin and force his mouth to mine. We kiss until I’m ready to pass out from lack of oxygen and pull away gasping. I have no idea how much time has passed. I don’t think I care. I want to lose myself in this man and never be found.

Until his phone rings.

I groan, “Ignore it.”

He chuckles against my lips. “Not mine, baby. I think it’s yours.”

“Still ignore it,” I mumble.

“Could be the kids,” he says, taking a step back.

Fuck. First, I drive my kids around with a corpse in the back of the car. Now I’m willing to ignore them so I can fuck their dad.

Horrible mother.

I grab my phone off the counter. But it’s not the kids. It’s Amy.

AMY: WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME? ARE YOU DEAD TOO?

AMY: Your kids are fine, btw.

“Who else is dead?” Noah asks from over my shoulder.

“No one!” I slam my phone face down on the counter.

“Aren’t you going to answer her?”

“Yes.” I roll my eyes, and grab my phone back, then walk away from him to catch up on the dozens of text messages Amy sent while I was, er, napping. The gist being she’s got an idea she thinks will work and we can go after it gets dark. At this time of year, it won’t be dark until closer to eight or eight-thirty, so we’ll have time to kill. I’m getting good at killing things.

ME: Sorry - sleeping. Awake now.

I look up, Noah is on the porch on a call of his own. He’s pacing and rubbing the back of his neck. A sure sign that something bad has happened. I throw a K-cup in the coffee maker to brew a single mug. It’s ready by the time he hangs up and comes back inside.

“Want one to go?” I ask and hold up the mug.