Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

Another growl, this one bordering on frustration.

“Unless you don’t want me,” I said and took a step back, wanting to be absolutely fair to him. I’d never force something he didn’t actually want, but from the way he’d touched me last night…

I reached toward the sheet on the floor, ready to cover myself again.

Cannon stopped me with a gentle hand on my wrist. “You know that isn’t true,” he said, his voice low, raspy. He guided my hand to his athletic pants and situated it over his very hard, very large cock. The feel of it, even beneath the fabric, sent a pool of heat between my thighs. “Clearly, I want you. That’s never been the problem.”

I looked up at him, my eyes hooded, needy. “Then what is the problem?” I squeezed him gently, and the hiss he gave me sent chills along my bare skin.

“The problem,” he said, taking my hand and putting it back on his chest. “Is that we have an expiration date. And I don’t want to get hooked on you only to have you ripped away.”

The truth, for both of us.

“Too late,” I practically purred. Another truth. I had a Cannon craving I wasn’t sure any amount of time with him would ever satisfy.

Another, wider smile.

“Why think about the future?” I asked. “When the present is so much more appealing?”

He leaned his head back against the wall, banging it slightly over and over again. “I need to think about it,” he said. “For both our sakes.”

I knew that. I had anticipated that. Cannon thought everything through, usually for other people’s benefit. Not that he’d ever tell anyone that. But I knew him. Just like I knew if he were a selfish man, he’d take and take what I offered with no regard for the state of my heart when this did eventually end. But he wasn’t doing that. Wasn’t taking what I so freely offered. He wouldn’t, not without a proper think on all the pros and cons and what-ifs.

So, knowing that, knowing him, I smiled up at him and nodded. “You do that,” I said. “And I’ll just be in the shower thinking about it.” I let my fingers graze down the center of my breasts, showing him exactly where my mind was. Thanks to him.

I brushed past him, leaving the door to the bathroom wide open as I turned on the shower.

He didn’t follow me in, but I heard him grumble, impossible woman, before I stepped into the water.

“Are you sure you want to take another shot?” Harper asked from her seat to my left. “You know what happened the last time you were this drunk,” she teased.

Langley laughed from my right, Delaney on her opposite side, and Echo hiss-chuckled from behind the bar. Annabelle and Faith were on the other side of Harper, sipping their own drinks.

“One,” I said, holding up said shot. “I wasn’t drunk when I married my own personal Hades.” A warm flutter shuddered through me at the thought of him. “Two,” I continued, throwing back the shot. “You’d be so lucky if we ended up married tonight.” I nudged Harper’s shoulder playfully.

“Touché.” Harper held up her shot, as did Langley, and threw them back at the same time.

“Like this one is ever going to set a date,” Faith joked, her hand covering Harper’s engagement ring.

“Nothing wrong with a long engagement!” Harper fired back.

“I agree,” Annabelle said, eying her own ring.

“It’s been too long,” I said, lightly smacking the bar. “I needed this girls’ night.”

Langley grinned. “Well, we hadn’t officially gotten to initiate you into the Queens of Reaper Village club yet. You’ve been married over two months! It was high time.”

Two months?

Had it really been that long? The time with Cannon had been a blur—one big blissful blur and after last night? God, I wasn’t sure I ever wanted it to end.

A sizzling chill zinged down the center of me, and I had to shift myself on the barstool to relieve the pressure. It didn’t work, and I knew there was only one thing that could satisfy this driving need.

Cannon.

That is if he ever decided to touch me again.

“Another shot!” I waved to Echo. “Please,” I added with my best smile.

Echo laughed. “You’re a mess,” she said, but poured the shot. “What’s going on up there?” She pointed to my forehead.

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t use your super-cool-understanding-bartender-voodoo on me. Not tonight. Tonight is about fun. About spending time with you girls.” I sighed. “You’re all just so damn wonderful, and I’m happy you’ve accepted me into your tight-knit circle.”

My statement was met with a collective aww and followed by a massive girl-group-hug that had me feeling the love so much it hurt. There was something about having a proper group of girlfriends—women who wanted nothing more than to build you up, have your back when shit went down, and smack some sense into you when you needed it. I’d never known true girl-friendship until I’d met these wonderful women. My girlfriends prior were all social climbers, more using my status and name to advance themselves than to be my actual friend. They never had my best interests at heart, not like these women.