Unbreak My Hart (The Notorious Harts 4)

That’s a question for another time. Right now I want to fill myself with Barrett and all the pleasure I know he’ll bring me.

‘Fuck me.’ It feels good to issue that directive, good to remind him that, first and foremost, this is a physical thing. Tonight was sweet, but I don’t want sweet. I just want to be alone. Me, my business, the charity, my life. Predictable, ordered, familiar, mine.

His smile is slow to unfurl. ‘I thought we were swimming.’

‘I mean, we can swim if you want...’

He reaches for me, lifting me easily, in a way that drives me wild, pulling me to his waist, wrapping my legs around his back and then he’s kissing me, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that can’t be faked. His desire is as red-hot as mine. He carries me across the pool deck and I lose myself in that kiss—so much so that the first indication I have that he’s moved towards the pool is when we splash right into it. He laughs as we hit the water, breaking our kiss to look at me, to see my reaction. Shock, confusion, amusement.

‘Hey!’ I punch his arm. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

He catches me, brings me back to his body and deepens the kiss, his body beneath the water warm and strong. I groan, needing his kiss

and him, pleasure radiating through me.

Beneath the water’s surface, I push his boxers away then curl my hands around his cock, letting my fingers run the length of it, enjoying the sensation of its strength and hardness, wanting him so badly. Condoms are nowhere nearby so I have to be patient—not really my strong suit—but I make do, kissing him, pressing my body to his until we are both panting and ragged from needs that can’t be met right now.

I’m almost at breaking point when finally he draws me from the water, disappearing for the briefest moment possible to grab protection. He comes back, his eyes on mine as he sheathes himself, so I look away because there’s something so powerful in his gaze, something unspoken and fierce and demanding and I can’t—won’t—answer it.

He brings himself over me, and I reach for him at the same time, still not looking at his face. Instead I concentrate on how this feels, on every flicker of sensation his body’s contact sparks within me. I close my eyes, feeling him, committing parts of this to memory. He spreads my legs, his touch so familiar and perfect, and drives himself inside me so I writhe and arch my back, pleasure infiltrating my soul completely.

‘Barrett...’ His name spills from my lips again and again, a plea in its syllables. But a plea for what? Release, yes. The release pleasure can bring and the release of knowing this is over. I can’t do this. I need to put an end to it. And I will—later.

As his cock takes possession of me his hands run over my breasts, my nipples, then one returns to my clit, stroking it, his fingers moving over me until I’m driven to the point of insanity. He takes a nipple in his mouth, rolling it with his tongue. His stubble, his warmth, my body wet from the pool, the night warm, the air thick; every sense is heightened by this. I twist beneath him, my body craving greater contact with his.

‘Fuck, Avery, I’m—’

He doesn’t finish the sentence. His orgasm explodes between us right as my own crests through my body, so our cries mingle, our breathing frantic, our hands digging into each other’s backs, bodies, as though we can control this. He buries his head in my shoulder, his body weight on mine divine, his breath rough in the hollow of my neck, and he stays there for a long time, so long that pleasure has seeped from me, leaving me with a hollowness in my chest.

His laugh is a little unsteady. ‘Well, that was...’

‘Great.’ I press my hands to his chest, barely able to breathe now, needing him to go. What the hell have I been doing? The question keeps circling through my brain. Why did I let him take me out today? Why do I keep doing this?

‘Quick.’ He says the word with a hint of apology. Holy crap. Barrett can’t seriously be thinking there was anything even remotely defective in what just happened between us? I have never been with a guy who can get me off so fast, so thoroughly, so reliably.

‘Fast isn’t a bad thing in my book.’

He tries to catch my eyes but I don’t look at him.

‘No?’

‘I’m a computer programmer. I value efficiency.’

‘Avery?’ His voice is low, deep, and it brushes against me, sparking all the sensations I just experienced all over again. I look at him now, because I feel like it would be churlish and rude not to.

‘Are you okay?’

I swallow, his concern almost unpicking the resolve I’ve made. ‘I’m fine.’ I push at his chest once more, a little harder this time. ‘But I have a huge day tomorrow. I’m going to have to call it a night.’

I stand up, grabbing my clothes from the deck and moving towards the glass doors. Panic is inside me, quickening my step, but there’s coldness too, a commitment to my decision that’s reassuring. ‘Thanks again for tonight,’ I call over my shoulder, placing my dress inside the laundry door then moving back to the lounge in time to see him walk in from the deck, pants on, shirt being pulled over his head as I watch.

When he looks at me I see concern on his face. I hate that. ‘I’m fine,’ I say again, smiling. ‘Just tired.’

‘And you want me to go?’ He says the words in a way that’s measured and calm, but I know he’s feeling a thousand things. Annoyance, impatience, anger, confusion.

‘Yes.’ I tilt my chin towards him, daring him to argue.

He tries to pin me with his gaze, to read me through my eyes, but I blink away, looking towards the door. ‘Thanks again for tonight. I had fun.’