Blurred Lines (Love Unexpectedly 1)

Parker doesn’t answer. She doesn’t have to, because the drawer of her nightstand is nothing but condoms.

“Holy hell, Parks, I think you’re going to be single-handedly responsible for a global latex shortage.”

She bites her lip and looks at me. “I went to Costco after work while you were at the gym.”

I can only shake my head as I pluck out one of the eight million foil packages. “A girl who buys condoms in bulk. We really should have done this sooner.”

I turn back to her, and, despite the urgency of the moments before, I search her face.

This is it.

The turning point.

And although I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want to slide between her legs, I’m not going to ruin our friendship over it. I have to know….

She reaches out. Touches my cock, and it all but leaps into her hand. She strokes me in firm, smooth motions, then licks her lips.

“Okay, then,” I mutter around a groan as I tear open the condom wrapper with my teeth.

She scoots back on the bed as I move over her, her legs spreading as I settle between them. Parker is panting now. Hell, so am I, and it seems crazy that I haven’t been fantasizing about this since the moment I met her, because I’ve never wanted anyone, or anything, this badly.

My hands are on either side of her, her hands are on my waist, and I pause as long as I can, drawing out the moment.

I slide forward, and oh fuck she’s perfect. Tight and wet and ready. I gasp a little as I slide further into her, her nails digging into me, pulling me forward as she moans something that might be please.

When I’m all the way inside her, I pause.

I savor.

Now, I wouldn’t say I rush this moment with other girls, but, let’s face it, once you’ve found your way home, it’s all sort of the downward rush toward glory, right? I tend to sort of get in, get out.

But it’s different with Parker. More important somehow, so I linger just for a moment, feeling her, watching her face, learning her breathing.

And then she says it again. Please.

I lean down, my lips finding hers as I pull out—all the way out—and then sink back in, all the way, our moans mingling together.

I keep the pace slow and steady, at least as slow as I’m able, wanting to make it good for her, because, like she said…three months.

But apparently her sex hiatus has her all revved up and ready to go, because her breathing quickens in no time, her hips urging me on at a faster pace.

I know she’s close and my hand slides down, and that’s all it takes; one brush of my finger against her, and she’s arching, crying out, and clenching around me all at the same time.

The sight and sound of her coming apart destroy me.

I manage only two more strokes before I, too, go over the edge, pulling the soft skin of her neck between my teeth, softly, as I shudder inside her.

I collapse.

She lets me, her arms falling from my back to lay limply out at her side, as I pant into her neck.

I don’t know how much time passes. Seconds? Minutes?

Days?

She turns her head so her mo

uth is near my ear. “So.”