Fortuity (Transcend 3)

“Yes!” I can’t hide my emotions any longer. My fingers dive into my hair as I tug at it, feeling overwhelmed with frustration. They go from my hair to her face, framing it as I back her into the bathroom until her backside hits the vanity. I bend down forcing her to look at me. “I’ve traveled for eight years and countless miles to get here. Right. Here. It’s my turn to get the girl. I’ve earned it. So … yeah … I call dibs. Dibs. Dibs. Dibs! I will fucking level anyone in this life or the next that tries to steal you from me. So just …” I blow out a breath and close my eyes. “Say it.”

She grins. “I’m still having an affair with the young male nurse at the nursing home.”

My desperation slides into a smile as I close the distance to claim her lips. “The fuck you are.”

She giggles into the kiss. “Don’t think you can be alpha with me,” she mumbles as I kiss my way down her neck while ripping away the wadded-up shirt from her grasp.

“Nate!” She grips my hair as my teeth tug at her cold, stiff nipple.

“Nate …” Her voice softens as her body surrenders.

“Dibs …” I whisper along her stomach as my fingers curl around her panties.

Her breaths fly out of her mouth like violent gusts of wind as she leans back and lifts her hips to let me slide her wet panties down her legs, dropping to my knees.

“Dibs …” I whisper again, spreading her legs and kissing my way up the inside of her thigh.

“Dibs …” she moans, closing her eyes when my tongue claims her.

She falls apart on the counter, calling my name. Poor Andy must not have known what the fuck he was doing.

“You are so mean.” She grins, staring at me with a drunken gaze as I stand and unfasten my shorts. “Kiss stealer. A bully claiming dibs on me forever. And then taking me to the edge and making me beg.”

I smirk. “Guess that makes me the alpha, no matter how many fistfuls of hair you try to yank out of my scalp.”

Her gaze falls to my hand tugging down my zipper.

“No condom. No sex.” She crosses her legs and gives me a challenging look like she’s won something.

My other hand slides into my pocket, retrieving a condom. “Condom. Sex.” I toss it onto the counter. “But let’s shower first. I don’t want you to get sand in your mouth.” I throw open the shower curtain and turn on the water.

“How would I get sand in my mouth?” She eases off the vanity.

I step out of my shorts and briefs, knowing her shameless gaze will go right to my erection, and her tongue will instinctively swipe along her lower lip.

Her gaze shoots to mine, filled with realization.

I smile, tapping my teeth together. “Gritty.”

She flips her hip out, crossing her arms over her chest. “What makes you think I’m going to do that?”

I stroke myself several times, gently, really fucking gently because … sand. “Just a hunch.”

“Dream on. You threw me in the water.”

“Get in the shower.”

She narrows her eyes. “You get in.”

She’s her own little firecracker. Anything less wouldn’t be half the fun.

“Fine by me.” I get in and slide the curtain shut, wasting no time squirting soap into my hand and sudsing up. I’m entirely clean by the time she peeks inside. “Come on in.” I shrug. “But only if you want to.”

She rolls her eyes, stepping inside. “It’s my shower.”

“Then you should have called dibs.”

Before she can work another word out of her smart mouth, I kiss her. We kiss until her fingers curl into my chest. We kiss until they slide down my abs like she’s counting them. We kiss until she grabs my cock and strokes it. That’s when she lets go of my mouth and kisses her way down my body.

When whisky eyes find mine, a breath before she takes me into her mouth, I don’t smile. I’m not stupid. Nope. I close my eyes and wonder if the day will ever come that I can really have her. Words mean nothing if another man forever holds her heart. I close my eyes and dream on …

Like forty-somethings pretending we’re still in our twenties, we use that condom within minutes of getting out of the shower—again against the vanity since her parents sleep in her bed. I guess that proves we’re not in our twenties. A couple of twenty-somethings wouldn’t think twice about having sex on someone else’s bedsheets.

God … I miss my twenties.

For lack of another choice, I have to slip back into my wet, sand-covered briefs and shorts as Gracelyn slides on clean, white panties then pulls on a black cotton T-shirt dress. She won’t look me in the eye, and her teeth work her lower lip overtime. I brace for what she’s working up the courage to say to me.