Breaking Even (Sterling Shore 5)

I push back into her, and her eyes roll back in her head until she cries out again. This is so fucking stupid, but no thought makes sense when I’m with her. I’m not me. I’m some idiot who thinks it is okay to do this thing I can’t define. I’m some moron who is picturing things that contradict the reality I have. I know what happens when fuck-ups like me find girls like her.

They leave them broken.

“Harder,” she whispers, and I lose it. All restraint is gone, and I pound into her with everything I have, biting my lip when I start getting too loud. It’s a moment of pure abandon, and nothing outside of our bubble gets in. I’ve never made any fucking noise during sex until today, but this girl is driving me bat-shit crazy, and I’ll be damned if I don’t love it.

My hand slides up her stomach, pushing the shirt with it as I grab one of her perfect tits and squeeze. She moans, proving she enjoys my touch, but I have to let go and return my hold to her hips to drive in as hard as she wants me to.

When my name tears through her lips and echoes through my bones, I explode inside of her, groaning as her muscles clench and milk me. Nothing has ever felt so good, and I’m pretty fucking ruined in this moment.

I drop my head to her chest, refusing to disjoin our bodies just yet, and her hands go to my hair. She runs her fingers through the strands affectionately, and I kiss her skin that is showing, nudging her shirt up farther so I can taste as much as I want to.

“Mmm,” she finally says. “I really love that piercing.”

I chuckle against her while nipping at her skin, and I pull out while helping her sit up. My table has now been christened just like so many things in my room.

“I’ve never done that,” I admit, enjoying the way her smile crawls up.

“It was stupid,” she says, grinning bigger.

“It was. But I want to be stupid again some time.”

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them, because I see hope form in her eyes. I shouldn’t be making future promises, because I don’t know what’s going to happen. This isn’t me.

But her grin turns mischievous as quickly as her eyes shed the hopeful glisten, and she hops off the table, letting my shirt slide back down and cover her body.

“You might have to beg next time. My body is a little overwhelmed by all the stimulation. I’m not sure it can handle much more, and right now, I’m pretty exhausted.”

She walks back to my room, and a sick knot forms. She’s going to sleep in my bed? Fuck. What have I done? I can’t just ask her to leave. It’s Brin. I’ve never had a girl in here. I’ve never fucked anyone in this house... until her. What the hell am I supposed to do about this?

When I make it to the bedroom, she’s pulling her cotton panties back on, my shirt is across the bed, and she’s leaning down to pick up her own clothes.

She’s leaving?

“Are you packing?” she asks, motioning toward the three boxes I’ve yet to go through. I had put them in the corner, and now Brin is staring at pieces of my past that I don’t want to remember but can’t seem to let go.

“It’s just some old stuff,” I say dismissively.

She starts working with her shirt, trying to untangle it. She is leaving.

This is exactly what I wanted, but as she slides her arms through her shirt, I feel myself moving toward her. I tackle her on the bed in no time, and I’m kissing her as she giggles against me.

“I need to go. I have to be at work early.”

Go. She wants to go. She’s not planning to stay, and I should be relieved. But it actually pisses me off. Fucking confusing bullshit.

“What time? I can set my alarm clock.” What the hell is wrong with me?!

She goes still in my arms, but after a few seconds, her leg wraps around me.

“You want me to stay the night?” she asks curiously.

No. Yes. No. Fuck, yes. This is really starting to irk the hell out of me.

“Yes. You’re already here. You’re tired. I’m tired. And I have an alarm clock. Besides, I’ve seen you eyeing my shower at least five times today. If you stay, you can take a shower in there tomorrow morning.”

When she grins, everything makes perfect sense. I can do this. I think. I fucking hope. Shit, I really hope I can do this for at least a little while. I know it can’t be permanent, but we can be happy for a little while. There’s nothing at all wrong with that.

“I do want to take a shower in there, but I have a feeling you won’t get up early enough to take one with me. And that’s why I’ve been eyeing it.”