Crazy in Love

It’s quick, like I was, leaving my breath heavy in my chest but feeling so good. How does he already know my body so well? I pull my skirt off his head to reveal him resting his forehead against my lower belly. His breathing matches mine, his shoulders rising and falling as well. He looks up. “Did you call me Decker when you came?”

Laughter escapes me as he lowers my leg, steadying me. “I did.”

He’s chuckling as he straightens my skirt and holds me by the waist. “That’s a first.”

Fisting the front of his shirt, I pull him closer, kiss his lips, and then whisper against them, “If you’re not careful, I could get used to this hanging out business.”

“As long as you’re only hanging out with me, I’m good with it.”

Veiled jealousy perhaps. At least I know I’m not alone in it.

I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him close. “Want to hang out in the bedroom so I can return the favor?”

“No. I’m good,” he replies casually as though he doesn’t want to be a bother.

News Flash: I’m happy to be hot and bothered if I’m with him.

Staring at him in astonishment and a little horniness I was hoping to satisfy, I ask, “What do you mean you’re good?”

He cups my face and kisses me softly, my scent lightly coating his hands and mouth. “I mean, I’m good, baby. It gets me off to get you off.”

“But—”

“No buts, remember?” Stroking my hair away from my face, he tucks it behind my ears. “Unless you insist. I won’t deny your needs. Not ever.”

I’m touched by his generosity and the sincerity in his tone, but then I say, “Yeah, I insist,” because I need to feel him inside me again like last time. No walls or barriers—physically or emotionally—both of us in the raw, in this together.

He brings out something I never felt with anyone else, a craving to deepen the connection. I’ve never been this way, gone without a condom before, and now I’m hoping he didn’t think to stop at the store.

I’m not above begging if that’s what it takes. We’ve now climbed over that wall.

For me, there’s no going back with him.

He sweeps me into his arms and walks into the bedroom. I can tell he’s going to drag this out, probably to be romantic and stuff, which is sweet but not necessary for me.

Setting me on the bed with so much care that I’m afraid he thinks I’ll break, he stands beside me and starts to undress. “You sure you’re up for more?”

“I’m up for so much more,” I say, running my hands over my chest.

I sit up and pull the ribbon holding the straps together on one shoulder, watching his reaction. His body gives him away, his erection growing in his pants.

He cups my face. Damnit. I don’t want sweet.

I know how to spur him on because one thing I’ve learned is that Harrison Decker loves dirty talk. “Do you remember when you bent me over that counter in Catalina?”

“There’s not one thing I don’t remember about that night.”

“I want you to do that to me again.”

“With the mirror?”

“Yes.” A wry grin appears on his face, so I add, “Yes, there’s my bad, bad boy.”

“Not a boy, babe.”

Rubbing my hand over his cock, I reply, “Feels like all man to me.” I pop the snap of his jeans and slide the zipper down. Peering up at him, I lick my lips and then ask, “May I? Just one taste?”

His shoulders straighten, so commanding, so sexy, and he replies, “No sampling the goods. You take it all, or you don’t get any.” He has a naughty mind to match mine. “What do you say?”

“Yes, and please.”

“Fuck me,” he growls, tugging his jeans down.

Why is it such a turn-on to role play with him?

I lie across the bed on my stomach and settle in just as he frees his dick. Bobbing in front of me, I take hold with one hand and then wrap my lips around the tip.

The feel of his fingers dig into the hair at the back of my head, encouraging me, but now that I’m in control, I intend to have some fun. I swirl my tongue around several times before allowing him to push past my lips. He’s slow, calculated, letting me lead and cover the distance with my hand.

The sound of his moans mixed with mine, the struggle he has not to take control of my head, light touches accidentally push, causing me to gag, but only one time. He’s a quick learner, too. I go deep and then tease back again until I find a rhythm that I can get lost in.

His body moves against my mouth, and his breathing becomes labored. It’s not but a few minutes before steady turns erratic, and etiquette goes out the window. He’s guiding me like a missile on a mission, and I take it, every bold inch of him like a hometown hero.