Page 26 of Wake Me Up (New England Bay Sharks #5)

I can’t hide the disappointment on my face, and I almost push her limits and bring my mouth closer to hers.

I want to so fucking badly, but I know this day has been a lot for her, and I don’t want to make it worse.

So, reluctantly, I give up on kissing her pouty lips.

For now anyway. Even though I know she’s feeling this agonizing tension that I am. She has to be.

Slowly, I begin to set her down on her feet. The mascara she had on for our wedding is smudged under her eyes, her hair is completely soaked, and yet she’s breathtaking.

Looking down at herself, she pats her hands on her wet clothes. “This fleece is soaked,” she mumbles before suddenly peeling it over her head. “Do you have a plastic bag I can put it in so it doesn’t drip everywhere?”

I’m so in awe of the sight before me that I can’t even muster up an answer.

Through her long-sleeved black shirt, her nipples are on display, and it’s hard not to stare, though I know I need to stop being a fucking pervert and go get my wife a plastic bag before she catches me.

Her tits are perky, and I wish I could motorboat the fuck out of them.

“Uh, yep.”

I force my eyes down and walk toward the kitchen. After grabbing a bag, I return a few seconds later to find her folding her hands over her chest.

She cringes when her eyes take me in. “I forgot that I didn’t … well, when I changed out of my sweater dress, I took my bra off, too, because it wa s digging into my sides.” She blushes, biting down on her soaked lip to stop her from talking anymore.

“Oh, that’s no big deal.” I try to pretend like I didn’t see, even though—let’s be real—how could I not have noticed a set of perfect, plump tits through soaked fabric and two nipples poking out to say hello to me?

An image flashes in my mind of my tongue running over them, and I shift on my feet as my cock begins to swell.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into,” I say, jerking my thumb toward my room, hoping like hell she doesn’t notice that my dick is hardening with every passing second. “Do you want to pick them out, or should I just grab you something?”

“Anything’s fine,” she utters. “Thank you, Tripp.”

Her gaze lingers on me, and I fight the urge to look at her chest again when her hands dip down.

“If you want to take a shower, you can.” I try not to rasp out the words.

Thinking about her naked in my shower has my cock twitching even more, but I try my best to be respectful. She doesn’t look at me that way, even though there’s no way in hell she’s not feeling this fucking pull between us.

“That’s okay,” she answers softly. “Clothes are fine.”

I nod, swallowing down my hunger for this woman. I turn and walk into my room and look through my stuff. It’s fucking huge, but I pull out a Sharks crewneck and a pair of sweatpants and socks before heading back to her.

When I return a few minutes later, she’s in the living room, looking around. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and she shivers slightly before she sees me walking back in.

I hand her the clothes and turn to point down the hallway. “There’s a bathroom right down there to the left. If you change your mind on showering, feel free. There’s a pretty nice bathtub in there too. You’re welcome to use anything you want, Freya.”

She holds the clothes in her arms and looks me over. While her eyes are raking over my face, I’m trying to figure out what the hell she’s thinking right now.

“I’m sorry that I wouldn’t kiss you,” she finally whispers, looking down at the ground. “This is all just … a lot. ”

Her bringing it up again is a direct hit to my ego, but I brush it off as best as I can and grin. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Going into this, I knew what it was and what it wasn’t. You were clear on that so you have nothing to apologize for.”

I expect her to nod and walk toward the shower, but instead, she stands there and lifts her eyes to mine again, suddenly looking bashful.

“Yeah. And if we kissed again … it would just complicate things, you know?” She shifts around nervously. “I think you and I could be friends, and I know my kids love having you around, but kissing?” She bites down on her lip. “Obviously, that would make everything complicated …”

It’s almost like she’s asking more than she’s telling.

Her eyes move down to my lips, and I watch her pupils dilate.

She wants to kiss me; she just doesn’t think she should.

The last thing I’d ever want is to make her feel like she’s betraying her husband, but she deserves to find love again, even if I’m not the one she finds it with.

At least I could make her see it’s okay to move on.

I push my luck, taking a step toward her and nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. If we kissed … it could lead to something else. And if it led to something else … well, we’d have to talk about it after.”

I watch her throat work to swallow, and she clenches the dry clothes a little tighter in her arms.

“Yeah …” she practically whispers. “This situation is already complicated. Kissing would just …”

“Make it worse,” I say, finishing her sentence and taking another step toward her.

Now, here we are, standing damn near toe to toe, staring at each other. I watch her chest move with every nervous breath, and my cock strains against my zipper. I want to kiss her and have my hands all over her perfect body.

The silence is damn near suffocating, and we stand here, both trying to come to our senses and walk away. But that’s not what I want, and I don’t think it’s what she wants either. So, I reach my hand out, cupping her cheek.

“Tell me to step back,” I croak. “Say the words, Freya, and I’ll do it.”

Her eyes are dazed, and she stares up at me. “You should,” she breathes out. “You really should. ”

“I know,” I agree, but don’t move my hand because she didn’t say the actual words.

And when she drops the clothes from her arms, I know that’s her way of giving me the green light—I think so anyway.

I bend down, slowly moving my hand to her chin and angling it upward. Her lips are a mere inch or two from mine, and she’s looking up at me like she’s equally as scared as she is desperate.

“Fuck it …” She croaks out the two words that change everything.

“Fuck it,” I growl back, and instantly, both of our eyes flutter shut.

I bring my mouth against hers, kissing her slowly and feeling her lips in every part of my fucking mind, body, and soul.

Kissing my wife.

I’ve kissed a lot of women in my day, but when we kissed, that’s all it was—a kiss. When I kiss Freya, my cock may be hard and swollen, but she’s also got my heart beating quickly and my knees weak when her lips work against mine.

A soft moan escapes her mouth, and I eat it up, kissing her even harder, feeling her body buckle against mine. We might have kissed at our ceremony, and that was a damn good kiss. But this? This is out of this fucking world.

I slide my hands down her waist, gripping the wet fabric of her shirt and digging my fingertips into her. I’m painfully fucking hard, and my head is fucking spinning. I desperately want to take it further, but not so far that she hates me for it once she snaps out of this desperate trance.

Her hands find my chest, clawing at my shirt like a madwoman, and she moans against my mouth just before her tongue swirls against mine. I can feel how fucking needy she is just in the way that she’s kissing me. And I can hear it in the sounds she’s making too.

I take a risk and step back, bringing her right along with me and propping my ass on the armrest of the couch. I lift her and swing her leg around my leg, making her straddle my thigh before sliding my left hand into her wet hair and using my right to slowly push her back and forth on my thigh.

Within seconds, I don’t need to thrust her back and forth because she’s riding my leg on her own, grinding her pussy back and forth on me.

I know she needs this, but what I don’t expect is for her to take her hand and rub it over my cock through my jeans.

But between the friction of her hand on my cock and her humping the fuck out of my leg …

I know I’m going to come right in my jeans.

“That’s it, baby. Ride,” I growl into her mouth. “Rock that hot little pussy against my leg. Give yourself what you need.”

Her moans become insatiable, and so do my groans against her lips. When her other hand slides under my shirt and digs her nails into the flesh of my back, I know she’s close to coming.

Another loud moan that’s almost a scream comes from her lips as she keeps rubbing her palm over my swollen cock, and that’s all it takes.

My cock explodes inside my briefs at the exact second she tosses her head back, riding her orgasm out on my leg.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, and I didn’t even get to actually fuck her.

But moments later, when she’s finally coming down from her high and she realizes what we just did, her face falls, and her lip trembles. When her eyes fill with tears and she begins to wiggle away from me, I hold her still.

“Freya,” I say quickly. “Hey, it’s all right. Talk to me—”

“Let me go,” she whimpers weakly, holding in a sob, but when I keep my hands planted on her, anchoring her against me just before she grows angry. “Let me go!” she hisses.

Reluctantly, I drop my hands from her body, and she shoots off my lap.

She turns quickly, gathering the dry clothes and sprinting down the hall. I don’t run after her because I know I’ve done enough harm for one day.

I knew better, but I wanted her anyway.

I let the hot water run down my body as I stand under the spray and cry. My shoulders shake uncontrollably, and my chest heaves up and down. Since the very first day we got together—until a few minutes ago, I had been faithful to Jamie. And now, I’ve broken our promises.

I understand that he’s gone, but that doesn’t matter because I never planned to move on from him. And then Tripp Talmage came along, clouding my judgment and invading my brain .

I don’t know what came over me. He was being so kind, offering me clothes and a warm shower.

My eyes floated down, and through his jeans, I saw that his cock was swollen—all from seeing my breasts through my shirt, I think.

That did something to me, and then the air between us changed, and I began to play with fire, letting him move closer.

The next thing I knew, I was dry-humping his leg, rubbing my hand over his swollen cock.

And when I orgasmed—because … oh, how I did—his dick leaped under my touch, and the wetness of his cum spilled through his jeans.

Even knowing I fucked up, I shiver when I remember that moment when we came together.

I turn the shower off, knowing that I need to get back to my car and pick up my kids soon.

Tripp may be my husband, but I’m going to avoid him like the plague until further notice. I have to. If not, I’m going to end up humping him again.

Only next time, I fear my clothes will fall off.

I’m so sorry, Jamie. I’m so, so fucking sorry.