Bucking Bear (Pounding Hearts 3)

I squeeze my knees together as I remember some intense sensations. Whatever we did last night it was good, too good. I’ve never felt such things before. Flashes of intense, throbbing pressure and my fingers clawing at his head.

Fuck. Don’t tell me I had my first orgasm and I don’t even get to remember it.

I peek over at him again, he’s still sleeping peacefully beside me.

He’s so… My eyes roam over him from head to toe. Massive.

What did he say his name was? Oh, yeah, now I remember—Max.

Max is gorgeous. I roll over to my side and hold my breath, waiting for my movements to wake him.

He keeps on sleeping.

I don’t know why but I feel like I already know his body, and I have the strongest urge to get reacquainted with it.

Scooting closer, I drink in his face. Smooth forehead, straight nose, and a thick brown-black beard that I remember tickling my thighs.

Oh god, how did his beard tickle my thighs? Unless….

I shove that fantasy away and continue my visual exploration. He’s tall and strong, built like a tank. He’s got the kind of muscles that can’t be simply chalked up to genetics, you know he works hard for them.

I’m pretty sure he’s an MMA fighter like Mandy’s ex-boyfriend Brett.

His chest is bare, sculpted and covered in tattoos. I watch it for the longest time, almost hypnotized as it rises and falls with each soft intake of his breath.

I have never been with anyone like him before. Never would dare to dream I could score someone like him. I’m a twenty-two-year-old single mother. Guys my age who are interested in long-term relationships avoid me like the plague because of my “baggage”. As if Hope could ever be baggage. And the guys that are interested in me think I’m an easy lay because I had a baby when I was a teen and only want sex.

I haven’t had sex since I got pregnant, five years ago.

Did we have sex?

My eyes drag down; his chest is bare but the white sheet is covering his waist.

Do I dare lift the sheet and check to see if he’s naked?

I scoot down the bed a little and glance up at his face. So far, he’s still sleeping.

I watch his face as I extend my arm and slowly, carefully grab the sheet. His breathing continues in its soft steady rhythm. I ease the sheet down a few inches and glance over at what I revealed. I get an eyeful of his defined abs and the deep groove of his V, the lines pointing towards his groin like a roadmap.

I lick my lips. Those lines are practically begging me to keep going, to see where they’re pointing.

I still can’t be sure he isn’t wearing any underwear. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

And seriously, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

I peek back up at his face. His thick lashes are still fanned against his cheeks. My movements haven’t stirred him yet.

Watching his face for any sign of waking up, I ease the sheet lower.

And lower.

And a little lower.

Thinking it should be low enough, I glance back over, meaning only to do a quick peek. After all, I’m not a complete pervert… I’m just a little perverted.

What I see causes me to suck in a sharp breath.

Holy fuck, I didn’t think they made them that big.