“You can say that again.” His big hand slid up her stomach until he cupped one breast against his palm. “Perfect fit,” he muttered before he began teasing her nipple, playing, plucking, and rolling it between his fingers until she was writhing around his thick cock.
“Feel good?” he asked, still lodged deep.
“It’d be better if you’d move. I can’t take it.” She clenched her inner walls around him, hoping to entice him to fuck her hard.
“You can.” His finger tweaked her nipple once more, and she shuddered, pushing back against him.
She’d expected him to pound into her. Instead, he rocked gently, hips swaying back and forth, the rhythm forcing his cock against that sensitive spot inside her. The one no man but him had ever reached.
Small ripples that felt suspiciously like the beginning of an orgasm swelled inside her. But he wasn’t gliding in and out, wasn’t doing anything except cradling her against his big body, rolling his hips against hers. And despite the fact that they weren’t face to face, it was gentle and intense—seriously emotional—and a lump formed in her throat.
His hips rocked against her ass, and he was right. She felt him everywhere. She swallowed a sob, not understanding the emotions overtaking her. She didn’t know she was so sensitive, so—“Close. Oh God, I’m close.”
She felt her juices sliding between them, coating him, and suddenly his hand droppe
d lower, the pad of one finger pressing against her sex. “Come on, sunshine. Come for me just like this.”
He ground his cock deep, and she cried out, the orgasm that hit her more explosive than any before, because he wasn’t fucking her, he was loving her, and she’d be a fool to deny the obvious. Not when there was so much emotion washing over her.
She might still have been mid-orgasm when he pulled out, tossed the pillow, and rolled her onto her back. She raised her arms over her head and out of the way just as he thrust back into her with a tortured groan.
“Livvy, fuck.” He jerked inside her once, twice, and she buried her face in his neck and inhaled him while she came, and he followed her over.
Chapter Eight
Dylan awoke to an empty bed. Olivia had showered and was packing her suitcase when he dragged his ass out of bed. She shot him a smile, one he returned, but neither of them spoke.
He didn’t know what to say. Last night had been intense. Serious emotional shit had passed between them, and he needed time to process. If her silence during the rest of the morning and trip to the airport was any indication, she felt the same way.
He’d told himself he was all in with her, ready for anything. But apparently, it was one thing to be so head over heels for a woman he couldn’t think straight and another to deal with the emotions the kind of sex they’d shared brought up.
She slept most of the flight back home, her head on a pillow against the window. Not on his shoulder. He swiped a hand over his eyes and leaned back against the uncomfortable seat.
He’d never, ever felt so much, and it scared the shit out of him. Not because he wasn’t sure of his feelings but because he was.
He’d fallen in love with a woman who hadn’t dealt with her past. If there was one thing he knew, old ghosts always showed themselves eventually. And he didn’t want to be a casualty when Olivia’s returned.
* * *
The week after Arizona flew by. As usual, while she’d been away, work had piled up. Olivia didn’t mind. She thrived on doing her job. Dylan had to travel out of town mid-week for an unexpected meeting with the hotel chain the team did business with. With him on the West Coast, where the main offices were located, and Olivia on the East Coast, they managed a few short phone calls in between his meetings.
Their last time together had been … intense, scary for a woman who rarely let herself get involved so deeply. She’d pulled back a bit, just needing time, and then he’d left on his trip. After twenty-four seven time with Dylan, this break gave her more time than she’d wanted or needed away from him. She missed him like crazy and couldn’t wait until he came home. He wasn’t sure of his timing yet.
Friday night, she was so exhausted that she crawled into bed and fell asleep soon after her head hit the pillow. Too soon afterwards, crazy knocking sounded from outside the bedroom door.
Olivia pulled the pillow over her head and groaned, but the noise didn’t let up. “Go away!”
“No.”
A peek revealed Avery—who else?—walking into the room. She jumped into the bed beside Olivia, the way she’d always done on the weekends when they were kids.
Olivia managed a tired smile for her sister.
“Why are you still in bed? You never sleep in.”
“Let’s see, there was a time difference in Arizona, and I’ve worked nonstop this whole week to catch up. I’m tired.” Beyond tired. Even now, she couldn’t stifle a yawn.
“Well, now you’re up! And it’s a good thing too, because the day doesn’t wait for anyone.” Avery jumped up and opened the blinds, letting the sun stream into the previously darkened room.