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Where We Belong (Alabama Summer #3.5)

Page 8

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Understated. I like that.

Spinning in front of the mirror, I glance over my shoulder and blush a little at the sight of my bare ass. I stand on my toes and pop my hip to watch it jiggle.

Mm. Maybe I won’t make Ben wait until tomorrow . . .

Blowing out a quick breath, I reach for my shorts on the small bench and dig out my phone.

I’ve sent my fair share of dirty pictures to Ben. He always responds with something equally vulgar, words I’ll read over and over until I’m trembling against my hand, dropping my phone and panting his name. The moment he sees me, he’ll pull up whatever it is I sent him and we’ll both look at it while he beats into me from behind.

Maybe this is cruel, since I know we won’t have that time together tonight. I’ll get him hard and leave him even more frustrated, but we’ll have tomorrow. He doesn’t know it, but I’m going to make up for every interrupted opportunity tomorrow.

Every. Single. One.

Pushing my hair off my shoulders, I lean forward a little and snap an up-close shot of my breasts, my hand squeezing one of them. I attach the photo to a message.

Me: Yours.

After setting my phone down, I unclasp the bra and slide it off my shoulders. I step out of the panties and grab the other ensemble I brought back to try on, a black sheer babydoll.

The silk slides over my skin, clinging to my hips and brushing against the top of my thighs.

I run my hands over my stomach as I stare at myself in the full length mirror.

I like this one too. Again, massive boob appeal. My legs look never ending. Plus, I love how soft it is against my skin.

I palm my phone again, studying the screen and waiting for Ben’s reply.

It never comes.

Maybe he’s busy?

After tossing my phone back onto my pile of clothes, I glance at the tag, then do a quick calculation of the two outfits together while tapping my finger on my lip.

When was the credit card paid? Two, three weeks ago? I should be able to charge both, right?

“Mia?”

My head snaps to the right. I stare at the closed door concealing me, the bottom stopping at the floor. I’m completely hidden.

He’s here.

My stomach flips wildly.

“Ben?” I whisper. Twisting the knob, I pull the door open an inch.

His dark blue uniform is the first thing I see, stretching wondrously across his broad chest and shoulders, then his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly.

Why that makes me wet, I have no idea.

My gaze moves over the sharp angle of his jaw, dusted in light stubble, and as I lift my head and our eyes lock, the last thing I see is the hunger sparking there, his irises practically vibrating with need before he pushes the door open and pins me against the mirror.



“The boys,” he growls, slamming the door shut, ducking his head and nipping at my jaw, his large hands grabbing my hips and squeezing. His chest heaving, pressing hurriedly against mine, pushing me higher and higher up the mirror until my feet come off the floor.

My head rolls back with a gasp. “Tessa has them. They went to get ice cream.”

“Jesus. That picture, Mia. I’ve never driven so fast in my fucking life.”

He roughly kisses me, burning my jaw with his stubble but I hardly care.

I slide my tongue into his mouth and grip his biceps, digging my nails into his hard muscle.

We kiss and kiss and kiss, until my head is spinning, until I can’t see or feel or taste anything besides Ben.

Only Ben.

“I need you. Fucking need this. I can’t breathe,” he says.

I moan and fall limp into his arms.

He’s here. It still isn’t sinking in that Ben’s touching me, that his hands are roaming down my back and pulling up the material of my lingerie, grabbing my ass, the hard line of his cock pressing against my stomach while he licks and sucks my neck, while he hitches my legs around his waist and drops his hand between us, working at his belt.

He’s here. He should be at work. He should be out patrolling with Luke. And instead he’s initiating public sex . . .

This never happens.

“Whoa, wait.” I push against his chest, just enough to make him lean back and look at me. “You want to do this now? Here? Someone could hear us.”

“Baby,” he rasps, staring into my eyes. “Yeah. Here. Right fucking now. You can be quiet. And no one can see shit from out there. I couldn’t see you before you opened the door.”

“What about Luke?”

“What the fuck about him? He’s in the car, where his ass needs to stay until I’m done.”

“But . . .”

But? Why am I protesting this? SHUP UP, MIA!

“Damn it, Mia,” Ben growls. “If I don’t get inside you, my balls are going to fall off. I’m dying here.”

Grinning, threading my fingers through his short hair and tilting my head up to kiss his jaw, I tighten the muscles in my legs and draw him closer.

“What are you waiting for then? Get that monster out.”

His entire body shakes, a shudder rolling through him. “God, I fucking love you.”

I smile wider, pressing my lips against his mouth and sucking at his lip.

Fumbling between us while supporting my weight, Ben frees his cock, leaving his pants up, his shirt on, everything in place except his belt, the button on his slacks, and the zipper.

Like my fantasy, I think, squirming and clawing at him, begging for it, my voice quiet and urgent.

He cups my pussy and slips two fingers inside.

“Ben,” I whimper as he stretches me. “Please . . . please, I need it.”

“You need what?”

“Your cock.”

He grins that beautiful, heart-stopping grin, the one that altered the course of my life that night in the bar three years ago. The only one he ever gives me.

“Yeah, you do,” he growls, slipping his fingers out of me and holding the base of his cock, leaning forward and pushing the tip inside. “You fucking need it. Need my cock fucking this sweet pussy, don’t you, Angel?”

I close my eyes, feeling him, feeling nothing but him.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He slides in so slowly, barely moving.

A little more . . . my legs shake. A little more . . .

“Hey! That guy’s stealing stuff! Hey, stop him!”

My eyes snap open.

Ben freezes, barely inside of me, every muscle in his body tensing while his hot breath bathes my face, bursting across my skin in sharp pants.

“Hey!” Someone else yells. “Hey, wasn’t there a cop in here? I saw him! Where did he go? Hey, help! This guy is stealing stuff! Help!”

“Fuck!” Ben yells, his voice echoing off the walls as he puts me on my feet and tucks his erection away.

Growling, his entire body radiating an anger unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst and his teeth clenched so tight he’s hissing his breaths now, he grabs my face and kisses me hard before wrenching the door open and storming out of the dressing area.

“Mother fuck!”

Grabbing my shirt, I cover myself with it and follow behind, staying shielded by the wall and looking out into the store.

“Richardson! You piece of shit! Come here!” Ben rounds on a big bald guy hunched over a table and tucking handfuls of women’s panties into the neck of his shirt.



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