Finding Him (Covet 2)

Why was it so easy?

“You said to stop thinking.” She brought my attention back to her. I was insane to even look away from her eyes.

“I don’t feel like we have enough time,” I admitted. “Not for what I want to do to you, not for the things I want to make you feel.” I traced my tongue across her lower lip and bit down on it as my hands spread across her breasts. She arched off the bed with each graze of my fingertips. “I would spend hours right here.”

“We don’t have hours.” She sounded as sad as I felt.

“No.”

We were never meant to be.

She was meant for him.

And I had been meant for someone else.

Maybe the universe was playing a sick joke on us to bring us together when we needed it the most, when we were at our most vulnerable, only for the harsh reality of our circumstances to settle in.

Different worlds.

Both in the limelight.

But it could work.

Right?

I kissed her harder and braced her hips with my hands while she twisted her tongue around mine. She tasted like chocolate. Our breath mingled, joined, and I pulled down her pink underwear and cupped her ass. Her skin was smooth against my fingertips as I moved my hand between her thighs.

“Julian.” She whispered my name like she knew how much it meant to be wanted, to be needed. “You’re wasting time.”

“This,” I said and moved my fingers, “is never a waste.”

“Oh.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I know nothing, keep going, I’ll just lie here.”

“You say that like you’re still,” I joked and teased her entrance more while tremors wracked her body.

“Born with a spreadsheet in one hand and extreme talent in the other,” she said under her breath, making a grin spread across my face as she came off the bed and nearly head-butted me.

“Not just a violent sleeper, then,” I teased, pulling her to her knees and kissing her across the mouth, angling a different way to get more of her. I wanted to take it all.

“Hmm, no,” she answered, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I don’t do this.”

“Do what?” I pulled away from her despite the fact that my body was ready to explode.

“This.” She gulped. “I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Who says it’s just one night?” I did it; I put myself out there on the ledge.

Her eyes lit up a bit, and then she looked away.

“Stay with me, Keaton.”

A small nod and then she was kissing me again, testing my strength, my patience, as I pushed her onto her back and thrust into her with one smooth movement.

Her skin was dipped in moonlight, her eyes full of wonder as she clung to me and strained up like she needed more than just our bodies to be linked but also our mouths.

I slowed down my movements and kissed her hard and deep, while her heat held me prisoner, pulsed around me in a way that was damn near magical.

I couldn’t imagine ever looking back on this moment and having a regret, not with Keaton, never with Keaton.

This was different.

We were different.

This was no one-night stand.

This was the beginning.

Just like the book.

The beginning of us.

She broke off the kiss. “This feels . . . incredible, you feel . . .”

Right. She felt so fucking right.

The only thing that had felt right in the last four months was making love to Keaton Westbrook, kissing her, licking chocolate off her face, playing cards.

The only right thing.

I pumped into her again and again, as my body drew up, tightened, begged for release.

I would have sold my entire fortune for that moment to last forever.

I would have given up every fancy car, every suit, every stock.

To spend more time with her in my arms.

She yelled my name.

And I whispered hers reverently in return as I kissed down her neck and felt her release like it was my own. I felt every tremor of her thighs, every rough exhale as she came down from the feeling of flying and found gravity again.

It was too easy to follow her.

To let my feelings claim a protective ownership of her and what we could possibly have.

I chased after her, I kissed her harder and found my release, and I was actually afraid to open my eyes when I moved away from her, out of breath as we both stared up at the ceiling, completely naked, sweaty, sated.

“So . . .” Keaton’s voice cracked. “Did you want another cookie?”

I burst out laughing. “I can’t decide if you really mean that or if it’s code for something else.”

She leaned up on her elbow and smiled down at me. “Can’t it be both?”

Hell yeah, it could.

I moved to kiss her at about the same time a bright light streamed through the window followed by the sound of a helicopter and Keaton pulling away in a rush to get her clothes on, all the while cursing some guy named Gene to hell.