Tap (Men of Lovibond 1)

“You. Always you.”

“Slow and sweet or fast and furious?”

I guess most women would choose to make slow, sweet love but I’m in the mood for something different. Heated passion. I crave it. Need it. Now. “I really just want you to fuck me hard.” We can take our time making love later.

“Woman, you’re hotter than a damn firecracker. Let’s try something a little different.”

“Okay.” The word different has never frightened me.

He kisses up my neck until his mouth covers my ear. “On the bed. Hands and knees. Ass up, baby.” Oh, my. That sounds dirty. I like it.

He slaps my naked ass. It stings a little, but not enough to hurt. Whatever he has in mind, I’m in.

“Do it now, Wren.” His voice is gruff. Demanding. Hot. “Face the headboard.”

I twist around and do as he instructs.

I feel the bed dip when he crawls over me from behind. Hot skin is all I feel, except for the huge erection pressing against my butt cheek.

He presses his lips against the back of my neck and peppers me with kisses as he slowly moves to my shoulder. His teeth graze the skin there and chills erupt over my entire body. My back arches as though it has a mind of its own. The way he makes my body respond is crazy.

I’m squirming beneath him, rubbing my bottom from side to side against his erection. His hand creeps around to my stomach and then lower so he can stroke me in that delightful place. Each and every nerve ending from my waist down is ignited.

“Hands on the headboard. Lock your elbows or you’ll hit your head.” Oh, shit. What is he going to do to me?

His hand abandons me in the front, temporarily, so his fingers can enter me from behind. They slide in and out softly and slowly at first but then he changes maneuvers and uses quick, jerky motions very much like tapping vibrations against the pleasure center nestled beneath my pelvic bone. Holy shit, what is he doing? It’s magnificent.

The tension in my body builds until I’m stiff as a board. Trembling. Waiting. Biting my lip in desperation for whatever is coming. “Wren, you are about to come so hard.”

Fuck, he ain’t lying.

More tapping. Slowly in and out. Quick tapping. More vibrations. Shit. This is so good. Can’t. Hold. On. Much. Longer. Tap. Tap.

I’m a shuddering mess when the first wave hits. “Ohh . . . ohh.”

The quaking starts in my core. Heat spreads. Nerves tingle. Muscles deep inside vibrate a series of contracting and relaxing. It’s too many sensations to withstand at once. I’m on a cliff, about to fall. Or jump. I don’t know if my parachute will open. And I don’t care. I hear Brou tell me I’m his, and I let him push me over the edge.

This orgasm owns me. And so does he.

“Tell me, Wren. I want to hear you say it again.”

I know what he means. “I’m yours, Brou,” I groan through gritted teeth as the sensation radiates down between my legs to finish me off.

He kisses me between my shoulder blades. “Good girl.”

I collapse face down on the bed, panting. “Not yet; we aren’t done.” Oh, shit. What have I asked for?

I rise onto my hands and knees. “Lock ’em against the headboard. Whatever you do, don’t bend them.”

“Okay.” I’ll do whatever this man tells me in this moment.

He pushes my knees apart with his and positions himself at my entrance. He burrows into me hard and fast. I understand now why he told me to keep my arms locked against the headboard—to hold me in place, so he didn’t send my head crashing into it.

He grasps my hips, his fingertips holding my flesh tightly as he pounds into me over and over from behind. I told him to fuck me hard. Well, he listened.

He slows to a stop and panting fills the room. “Get on your stomach.”

I move to lie facedown. His body stretches over mine, his chest and stomach wet with sweat so his skin sticks to me. He grips my chin, turns my head to the side, and kisses the corner of my mouth. “You are so precious to me.”

His knees go to the outside of my thighs forcing my legs together—not his usual method of spreading me wide. He rubs his tip through my slit and pushes against my bottom but he doesn’t go in. “Arch your back and tilt your ass up.”

Brou glides in easily once we achieve the perfect position. Oh my . . . this is different. And fucking good.

He’s pushing my legs together instead of apart but it feels incredible. He presses my hips into the bed, pounding me into the mattress each time he thrusts deeper.

His breath is ragged in my ear. His thrusts are slower but still hard and deep. “I’m gonna come inside you.”

I lock my arms extra tight. “Do it. Fill me up.”

He drives into me hard as he growls. “I am. Two weeks’ worth.”

When he’s done, Brou relaxes and rests his forehead on the back of my head. His warm, quick breath permeates my hair. “Fuck. That was something.”

He pulls out and rolls to his back, taking me with him to lie against his chest. I hitch my leg over his, and he rubs his hand up and down my thigh until he reaches my cheek and squeezes. “Damn, baby. That was good. I may not mind the miles if it means we get to reunite like that every time.”

“I’m not crazy about the distance but it does initiate some damn good sex.”

“Not too rough?”

My fingers make a game of twirling the hair on his stomach. “It was a wee bit on the aggressive side but I liked it.”

He cups his arm around my shoulder and moves it up and down my arm. “I like how you’ll let me be crude and ungentlemanly with you and then gentle and tender the next time.”

“I enjoy the polar opposites of both.”

His hand finds mine and intertwines our fingers. I love when he does that. Feels so affectionate.

“Bridgette is very fond of you. She told me I should hold on to you tightly.”

“And you said?”

He squeezes my hand. “Bridg, it’s going to be tough but I plan on holding her as tightly as she’ll let me.”

“Good answer.” We have a lot of things working against us. I’m not sure we have a fighting chance but I still want to try.

“What are our plans for tomorrow?”

“The options are endless so anything you want.”

I try to remember some of the things I’ve done on my other visits to Birmingham. “Ollie took me to the farmers’ market one time. I wouldn’t mind going back.”

“We can do that.”

“I’d love to get fresh ingredients and cook a vegan meal for you.”

“Yeah, that would be great.” No hesitation. I like that.

“What about inviting Bridgette, Warren, and the kids? Or would you prefer it were just the two of us?” I like being around them. I’m probably the first girlfriend in history to ever like hanging out with her boyfriend’s ex-wife.

“I’d love to invite them. They have me over all the time and I never return the favor. I’m sure it’ll be a nice treat to have someone cook dinner for them.”

“Tomorrow is supposed to be beautiful. You should invite them to the farmers’ market too.”

“I’ll ask.”

A long yawn escapes my mouth. “Someone’s tired.”

“Very.” The long drive and our night out drinking have stolen my pep.

Brou turns in the bed, cueing me to twist with him so I’m lying on my side with him cuddling behind me. Spooning. I like that.

He kisses the back of my head. “Sweet dreams, Wren.”

* * *

“Any requests for dinner?”

“Piz

za,” Ava says.

Brou pats her on top of the head. “Wren is preparing dinner for us tonight. She wants to cook something special.”

“Pizza,” she squeals.

Bridgette huffs. “That child and her eating habits are going to be the death of me.”

I’m no gourmet chef but I want this dinner to be delicious and satisfying. “I was thinking grilled vegetable galettes. I can make a pizza version for Ava.”

Bridgette stops pushing Tripp’s stroller. “Wren, you don’t have to go to that trouble.” I like how Warren and Bridgette have chosen to call me Wren as well.

Mom and Dad have never been one to use nicknames, but Law, said with their doting affection, has always made me feel loved and cherished. Ollie calls me sis and Lawry, which has been something he’s done since he was little. Being called Wren by people Brou so clearly considers family is . . . inclusive, accepting. It’s nice.

It’s nothing to throw together a little tomato sauce mixture. “It’s no trouble and I like to call it being deliciously deceptive. I guarantee I can serve her the healthiest pizza she’s ever had and she’ll love every bite.”

“Please. All she wants to eat are hot dogs, French fries, and pizza—the unhealthy kind.”

I lower my voice so Ava can’t hear me. “I’ll puree her vegetables in the sauce, make a smiley face with the soy cheese. She’ll never know she’s eating something good for her.”

“I will seriously kiss you hard if you pull this off.”

The look on Warren’s face is priceless when he covers Ava’s ears and whispers, “Ooh, girl-on-girl action?”

Bridgette covers her daughter’s eyes with her hands. I’m thinking to myself all she needs now is her mouth covered when Ava places her own hand to her lips. She’s been trained well to see, hear, and speak no evil. “Shut up, jackass. She’s going to think we’re kinky weirdos or something.”

Brou puts his arms around me from behind. “Both of you can forget it. I’m the only one who kisses this woman.”

Bridgette shakes her head as she stares. “Who are you and what have you done with our best friend?”

“Same ole me, Bridg, but improved.”