Not what I expected.
“I’m intrigued,” she whispers. “I haven’t really lived in years and I want to try what I missed out on. And if you promise not to hurt me…”
“Goddammit, of course I won’t hurt you. I’m not a douchebag.”
“No, you’re not. You’re like a spark.”
She doesn’t explain what she means, but she kisses me again, and as for me, I have nothing else to say. She’s still here, I’m still here, and she gives me hope.
Chapter Five
Hailey
He’s moving inside me, and I shudder with a second orgasm when he reaches between us and unerringly finds my clit and rubs it, his cock pushing inside me so deep I have no option but to come.
His mouth comes hard over mine, capturing my cries, and then he starts to shake as his cock twitches and bursts inside me.
My body is trembling with fatigue, my pussy aches, but I feel good. My body is awake after years of slumber. He’s a spark and I’m alive again.
He rolls off me, but he pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. I snuggle closer and it feels… warm. Safe.
Again he’s thrown me off. This isn’t the guy I met at the bar, the brooding bad boy with the police charges, or the rough biker who brought me home two nights ago, pushed me against the wall and fingered me until I came.
He’s… very human.
Even though his biceps look kind of superhuman. Rawr. I lift my hand to feel them up. Jesus, this is real life arm porn.
He makes a sleepy sound that sounds like laughter. “You like?”
“I like.” Most definitely.
“I lift some weights.”
“Like, small cars?”
He laughs outright. It’s a nice, deep sound. “I run, too. Have to keep in shape.”
“Because the chicks dig it?”
Another peal of laughter. “That, too. But mostly because guys get into fights and being strong is a good thing.”
“Did you and your brother fight?”
He doesn’t laugh this time. “Sometimes. In the past.”
He’s probably thinking that he won’t see his brother this year for Christmas. The thought makes my heart feel heavy.
I lower my hand to rest over his chest. Why do I feel so comfortable with a guy I barely know, even if he’s given me the most toe-curling orgasms of my life?
“I had a fiancé,” I say. “For a very long time. Too long. I always felt I wasn’t enough for him, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. How can you not be enough? He’s a son of a bitch if he made you feel that way.”
I’m startled at his vehemence, but also pleased. “Thank you.”
He’s quiet for a bit. Then, “What else did that motherfucker do to you? You’re running from him, aren’t you?”
“I ran from him,” I correct. “It’s done. I like it here. I may stay.”