“Reese, baby. Is it getting worse?” He starts to pull out, but I wrap my legs around him.
“No, they are happy tears. You’re so dang sweet.”
“Sweet is all you should ever have to know.” He presses his mouth to mine.
“What I want to know is what it feels like for my man to come inside of me,” I respond. Blake’s whole body stiffens, every muscle flexing as a deep rumble comes from him.
“Reese.” That one word is filled with warning.
“Move, cowboy. I want to feel you.”
“You’ll be feeling me for days.” He pulls out, thrusting back in. I gasp at the sensation.
“Don’t stop,” I rush to say.
“Never,” he growls as he pumps in and out of me. I meet his every thrust, lifting my hips to match his rhythm. Blake's eyes stay locked with mine as he makes love to me. He fills me with every inch of him. I’m stretched full, a small burn mixing in with the pleasure, but the pain is erotic. It only adds to the pleasure.
I moan his name as my orgasm starts to build. “Reese. Need you with me, baby. Please,” he begs.
I shouldn’t like it, but damn, do I love my giant, rough cowboy begging me for something only I’ll ever give him. One of his hands slips between us. His rough fingers find my clit. “Come with me. Lock that pussy around my cock. Take me with you,” he demands as he claims my mouth in a hard, possessive kiss.
I cry out against his lips, my orgasm taking me. This one is more intense than all the others. It explodes throughout my whole body. My sex locks down around his cock as I feel his warmth start to spill inside of me. Blake gives one more hard thrust, pushing all the way inside of me as he keeps on coming. He groans my name, burying his face in my neck.
I cling to him, wrapping myself completely around him as my own orgasm still cascades throughout me. He finally lets go, letting me take his weight and trapping me under him. I’m definitely not going anywhere now.
Not that I wanted to, anyway. Why would I when I’m finally home?
CHAPTER 21
BLAKE
“R eesy! Reese’s Pieces!” calls an annoying voice from the doorway.
Over the architect’s drawings, Reese and I meet each other’s gaze. The one-week stay with Angel has turned into two, and the girl is bored. She’s mowed through the few eligible bachelors left in Edison, discarded all of them but Simon, who I think is just lonely. Poor Scooter got caught up in her web after she spotted him having biscuits and gravy at the diner. Everyone tried to tell her he was gay, but she kept saying he was too good-looking to be gay, and that she could change him. The last statement kind of put the whole town off her, and she’s been getting a chilly reception ever since.
If I were her, that would be my signal to go home, but Angel isn’t good at reading people. Or what faces her back home is worse than the cold shoulder here in Edison. Could be both.
Reese puts a paper weight on her side of the table so that the plans don’t roll up, and greets her sister, who is looking uncharacteristically frazzled. “What’s up, Angel?”
“Mom called again. I think she’s coming here.” The younger woman squeezes her hands together. “I told her that everything was going well, but she didn’t believe me.”
Reese pushes her hair away from her face and blows out a long stream of frustration. “Probably because she called me last night and asked when I was coming home, and I told her never.”
Most days, Reese is cheerful and easygoing, but when her family comes into the mix, she turns into a bundle of nerves and tension. I come up behind her and squeeze her shoulders. Despite only being twenty-two, Reese has had to handle things for too long on her own. Her mom was married to her job. Her stepdad didn’t have much interest in her, and Angel was too young to bear any burden, and by the time she could, she didn’t want to.
“Why’d you say that? Just lie to her, and she’ll forget about you for another month.” Angel stomps inside and sits down on one of the director chairs in the empty living room. “She’s not going to like this mess.”
“I don’t care,” Reese replies, and she sounds like it. “Let’s get back to work. I really like the idea of sourcing the banister pieces from another house. This wasn’t the only home built in that time period, and while we could get an artisan to carve out a new banister, it would be in keeping with the spirit of the restoration to source an original good. It might be expensive.”