The Takeover (The Miles High Club 2)

“For what?”

“For making me remember what it feels like to laugh.”

I smile softly, and we stare at each other for a moment. Suddenly I’m hit with an urgency to be alone with her. “Are you ready to go home, Anderson?”

“Yes, I am, motherfucker.”

I laugh out loud and pull her from the stool. “And just by chance, you’re a mother. How convenient.”

Chapter 8

It’s late, and we’ve been at it for hours. The arch of Claire’s back as she lies beneath me tells me she’s close. I’m wet with perspiration and holding myself up on straight arms as I drive her into the mattress.

She whimpers beneath me, and I tip my head back and close my eyes in ecstasy.

Her wet body is rippling around mine, sucking me in, and the sound of skin slapping is echoing through the room.

This is when she’s at her best; this is when she has me in the palm of her hand.

On an orgasm high, worn down, and unable to filter what she says.

Vulnerable and soft.

“Tris,” she whispers as she reaches out to pull me down to her. “I need you.”

Our lips crash together, and it’s not just my balls that are about to explode.

It’s my fucking head—this woman fries my brain.

She clenches hard, and we both moan as the wave of an orgasm crashes between us.

She clings to me as we pant and half laugh; our heart rates race together.

I go to pull out, and she clings to me. “No, Tris,” she whispers. “Stay inside of me.”

“Just let me roll you over, baby.” I kiss her softly. “I can’t hold myself up any longer.”

I pull out and roll her onto her side away from me and lift her leg and slide back in. I wrap her tightly in my arms. She smiles sleepily as I kiss her temple. “That’s better,” she whispers. I kiss her neck as I hold her tight.

We fell asleep like this last night, too, our bodies joined. As one.

Claire Anderson.

The high of the orgasm she gives me isn’t half as good as the high after it.

When I’m holding her in my arms like this, intimacy is running between us like a river, and just for a moment . . .

She is mine.

Claire

I wake with a huge stretch and a smile. God. It’s been years since I’ve slept this well.

I roll over to see Tristan on his back. One arm is behind his head, and the other is scrolling through his phone. The white sheet is pooled around his groin, and his rippled stomach is on display.

What a sight to wake up to. “Good morning.”

He smiles and leans over to kiss me. “Morning.” His hand lingers on my jaw as he smiles sexily over at me.