She moaned into my mouth and the sound of her pleasure cracked my willpower in half. All I wanted in the world in that moment was to hear her make that sound over and over again. She pulled back with a sigh, blue eyes glazed over with desire, eyelids heavy with need. “We shouldn’t.”
“Probably,” I breathlessly agreed. “But we will.”
She nodded. “Yeah.” And put her mouth to mine again, almost as if she was throwing caution to the wind and choosing to be with me, at least in this moment.
Coming together this time should have been calmer, more sedate since we’d already done this once before recently. But it wasn’t calm or sedate, or any other word that didn’t mean wicked and wildly out of control.
Pippa tore at my clothes the same way I tore at hers, fabric ripping in our hurry to get naked and come together before the fire burned us completely. When she was naked, I took a step back, still unable to believe that twenty years had passed and she still looked so perfect.
“Pippa, sweetheart, you are a painting. No, even better, a song.” I could hear the strains of that song as I pressed kisses on every inch of her skin, a low drumbeat as her body vibrated each time my lips landed on her overheated skin. Quiet, gravelly moans as I found my way to her core made up the chorus of the song.
Every cry, every moan, every shudder, came together in perfect harmony. “Ry,” she growled when I pushed into her body, rocking slowly to build her up. Gasping breaths, heaving chests, skin smacking together combined with the sounds of crickets and frogs in the distance.
It was absolutely perfect.
Our bodies fit together perfectly, moved in sync to give and to receive as much pleasure as we could. Pip arched into me and dug her heels deep, urging me to give her more. “Pip,” I growled when another, taller flame of fire licked at my skin and my spine tensed along with my sac.
Her lips curled into a smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I grunted.
She licked her lips and pulled me down so our foreheads touched. “Let go, Ryan. Let’s see if you still remember how.”
The challenge in her words fired me up and I took her mouth, kissing her deeply. My tongue flicked in tune with every thrust of my hips, growing faster and more frantic with every thrust. I went deeper and she got wetter, driving me out of my mind. Her legs tightened around my waist and she nibbled my bottom lip with a moan. “Pip,” I grunted again and again as my mind grew full of this woman, her sounds and the way her skin flushed when she was turned on.
When she was close.
My fingertips dug into her hips and she met me, stroke for stroke, limbs tangled as we both fell over that mountaintop together, gasps mingling on the air and added to the beauty all around us. “My goodness,” she said on a laugh mixed with an exhale.
“Your goodness, indeed.”
She fell back against the grass and laughed. A genuine laugh flushed her skin even further.
And I could only think of one thing.
There she is, the girl I fell in love with and never fell out.
Chapter 16
Pippa
I did it again. Somehow my clothes fell off and I ended up doing the naked dance with my high school boyfriend. Again.
It was wonderful. No, wonderful was too tame a word for the way Ryan made my body feel. It was hot and magnificent, it was really intense like two lovers reunited after decades apart.
Which is the truth, my mind added sarcastically.
I sighed with satisfaction, ignoring the cooling ground underneath my body. He was an old lover, but sex with Ryan wasn’t like it had been back then when we couldn’t get enough of each other. This wasn’t just both of us being insatiable, horny teenagers, happy to just be naked with someone else. This was magnetic, it was explosive. It was almost as if once we touched—lips or fingertips, it didn’t matter—there was no stopping the inevitable progression of what came next.
White-hot sex, that’s what came next.
Always.
“That’s a whole lot of thinkin’ when I’ve just boinked your brains out.” Ryan’s deep, amused voice came from right beside me, his fingertips brushing against my sensitive skin.
“Boinked?”
“Banged seemed to crude, and screwed seemed too juvenile.”
He was right, on both accounts. “Then I guess boink shall stand.”
“So, you gonna tell me what’s on your mind?”
You. “Nope.”
“Regrets?”
“No,” I answered on a sigh. My life would be a hell of a lot easier if I did. “I don’t regret it, even if I probably should.”
“Because you still hate me, Pip?”
I cringed at his continued use of the name I hated so much. “We already talked about this. I don’t hate you.”