Change of Hart (Wells Ranch, #3)(81)
After a quiet meal of toast with jam in a kitchen lit only by the glow of a stove light, I handwashed the dishes and led Denver back upstairs. Since we’d changed into pajamas after our shower, we climbed into bed and I wrapped my arms around him. Praying he’d fall asleep, so all the pain could stop for a little while.
But he kissed me. A soft, closed-mouth peck good night. Then his hands slid to either side of my face, pulling me into him with a deeper kiss, his tongue forcing its way between my lips. The moment a small whimper left my lungs, he was feral. Kissing me and pulling my legs to straddle his waist. I couldn’t breathe, giving him every bit of oxygen I had in my lungs with an all-consuming kiss. It seemed like he needed the air more than I did, anyway.
His touch trailed down my body, snapping the waistband of my pajama pants, and his fingers slipped underneath. I broke free of his kiss, giving him a confused look. “Denver, I don’t think you want to do this.”
“Please, baby. Please. I need to feel you. I need things to feel normal—like this is a regular sleepover—just for a little while.”
I’d give him anything he asked for. So I nodded, shimmying my shirt off and letting him kiss my breasts while I grinded my hips against him.
“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmured into my neck, slipping his hand between my legs. “I missed touching you like this.”
“I missed it, too.” I rolled my hips, forcing the heel of his hand to graze my clit, needing friction. “Denver, I love you.”
I hovered above him while both of us slid our pants down, and when I felt his hard cock graze my inner thigh, I nearly came undone. It had been too long, and no amount of sneaky phone sex when my roommate wasn’t around was enough. Nothing like the real deal.
So lost in the feel of his lips on mine, and the way his eyes were welling, and the need to make him happy for a single moment of this godawful day, I didn’t think twice before sliding down the length of him.
“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, lifting his hips to push his cock deeper. “Holy fuck, this feels so fucking good.”
“So good,” I moaned in agreement.
There was something special about having him bare inside me. Nothing, not even air, between us. And I leaned down to kiss him, tugging his lip between my teeth while I rocked my hips.
“This—so incredible.” His chest heaved against mine.
“We’re never using condoms again,” I said. “I’ll get on the pill before I come back for Christmas.”
“God, yes.” He drove upward, and I nearly buckled at the sensation flooding through my hips.
With each thrust, I watched the sadness leave his eyes, replaced with lust and need. And when I started touching my clit, rubbing with my middle finger while getting lost in his expansive eyes, he threw me off of him with a low rumble in his chest.
“I’m going to come, and if you’re on top, I’ll end up coming inside you.” He gulped, shifting to lay me down and spread my thighs wide. Then he shoved back inside me with an attempt at a quiet moan that came out strangled and hoarse. “Holy fuck, Blair. You feel so fucking good.”
Circling a fingertip over my clit, I arched my back, relinquishing power to the tidal wave rushing over me from head to toe. Moaning—loudly—and not giving a single fuck because Denver and I were adults now. We were adults, he’d lost his mother mere hours ago, and fuck it if we wanted an orgasm to get us through the pain.
His breathing stuttered and he pulled out of me, pumping his dick in his hand until spurts of cum fell on my stomach.
“Thank you.” He collapsed on top of the sheets, tears and sweat dampening his face.
“I love you, baby.” I kissed his forehead, swiping my thumbs under his red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
Wrapping one of his oversized hoodies around me, I cracked open the door and, seeing no one in the hall, slipped out. Mid-dash toward the bathroom, I nearly crashed into Kate as she stepped out of Jackson’s room.
“Oops, sorry.” I grabbed her bare shoulder. Then it dawned on me. Kate sneaking out of Jackson’s room, wearing a blanket. “Oh. Um…go ahead and use the bathroom. I’ll, uh, use it later.”
Not even thirty seconds had passed, and Denver was already asleep when I shut the bedroom door behind me and crossed the dark room to his bed. Telling myself I’d get up again the moment I heard the bathroom door, I snuggled under the covers next to him, tucking his heavy arm across my chest. And fell into the best sleep I’d had in ages.
Blair
Sitting in a chair off to the side of the dance floor, my body sways naturally to the melody of a slow country song—“I Cross My Heart” by George Strait. With Hazel tucked in my arms, a heavy warmth on my chest, I swallow down the emotions bubbling within me. Couples move around the wooden dance floor in the center of the tent, lost in the music and each other.
I guess I’m lost, too, because I don’t notice Denver until he’s settling in next to me. “I don’t think any of you understand what low-key means. There is nothing casual about a fucking make-your-own-sundae bar.”
“The flower girl is very demanding, and her Uncle Austin has a hard time saying no.”
He holds a white bowl in front of my face, backdropped by the cutest dimpled grin I’ve ever seen, and I start questioning if it’s too much to tell him I love him because of some ice cream.