Page 174 of Things We Left Behind

Seeing her splayed out beneath me like a banquet to be enjoyed had me counting my lucky fucking stars. A few more fucks and a few more mind-­blowing orgasms, and we’d finally be sated. But not yet.

I gritted my teeth and sheathed myself in her with one vicious thrust. Those green eyes slammed shut as every muscle in her body tensed around me, under me. Her body teased me by both welcoming me and trying to fight me.

I wanted to touch her everywhere. To memorize every inch of her. The full curves of her breasts and hips, the taut flesh of her belly. All that velvet-­smooth skin that begged for my teeth.

“Tell me what you want,” I rasped, withdrawing just far enough to slam back in, forcing the final inch inside her.

Her feet moved restlessly against the sheets. “So good,” she rasped. “I hate that you’re so damn good at this.”

“Tell me what you want, Sloane,” I insisted, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

Her eyes were open now, hands reaching for me, drawing me down against her. “Just you. Give me you.”

I lost myself inside her, in the grip and pull of those smooth muscles. In the emerald green of her eyes. In the wayshe breathed my name as I drove us both up. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t pull back. Not with the way she was gripping me.

“You better get ready to come because I’m about to go off,” I warned through clenched teeth.

“Shut up and fuck me harder.”

I obliged, knowing that my orgasm would force hers. She hitched her thighs higher around my hips and took me even deeper. As her breasts bounced against my chest, she reached behind me and sank her fingers into my ass cheeks.

“Lucian,” she whispered.

I came.

The churning in my balls fired up the shaft and erupted in a heart-­stopping burst. And then she was gripping me, rippling and writhing. We were coming. Each wave all-­consuming, each crest higher than the last as our bodies fought for every last drop of ecstasy.

Jesus, she was beautiful when she came.

It was perfect.Shewas perfect. The way she fit me, the way she begged for what I had to offer. The way she reacted to my basest needs. Every time we let this happen, I convinced myself it would be the last time. And every time we finished, I knew it wouldn’t be.

Her arms came around my waist and held there.

“Good God, man. Do you have to register that thing as a weapon? Ugh. Where’s my root beer? I’m dying. Valentine’s Day sex killed me. You can put it on my tombstone.” Sloane’s muffled voice came from beneath me.

I smiled into her hair and decided I’d worry about what this seemingly never-­ending need meant later.

29

Getting Stupid

Sloane

Honky Tonk was loud and crowded. There was a band occupying the small stage in the corner, and almost every table was taken. I spotted my friends at the corner of the bar and made my way toward them.

Naomi and Lina had their heads together, laughing over something. Knox and Nash stood guard behind them, beers hanging loosely from their hands, sharing wry smiles over something they both found amusing. Stef the Chicken had apparently returned to town and was two-­stepping with Jeremiah on the dance floor in the middle of a crowd of burly bikers.

I felt like a big, dumb idiot at the wave of disappointment that smacked me right in the face.

Lucian hadn’t said he was coming. It was silly to think that he’d make the drive on a Wednesday night. It was stupid to have even wanted him to. But that was me. Silly, stupid, and now downright disappointed. I’d dressed up for no reason, wasting a perfectly good matching bra and underwear set under the short skirt and tight sweater I thought would make his blood warm.

Of course, I hadn’t actuallyaskedhim to come. We should be done. Finished. Finito. No more sex-­o. Though we were still flirt fighting over text. But I sure as hell wasn’t putting myself out there on a limb. Not with him. And not when I should be focusing on finding my future husband and father of my future children.

I tried to shake off my mood as I approached the bar. This was for the best. Lucian was nothing but a distraction from what I really wanted. It was time to forget about his gigantic dick and focus on my future.

“Lookin’ hot tonight, Sloane,” Sherry “Fi” Fiasco called from behind the bar where she was helping Silver the bartender sling drinks. She saluted me with her lollipop.

I fluffed my hair and blew her a kiss. And on the inside, I wished I’d gone with sweats.