Love Song(105)

Pouring myself a pint, I notice AJ and Gray smirking at me.

“What?” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Are we seriously not gonna address this Blake thing?” AJ demands.

“Seriously,” Gray agrees. “We’ve been so patient.”

“Giving you space,” adds AJ.

“Trying to be cool about it,” continues Gray. “But…dude. It’s been three days.”

“I know you like to live on the edge,” AJ says in amusement, “but pissing off Logan by banging his baby girl? You’ve got balls of steel, bro.”

I notice Beau draining more than half of his pint glass—which he filled literally five seconds ago.

“Slow down,” I murmur.

That gets me a derisive snort. “Why? I’m on fucking vacation.” Then, as if to spite me, he chugs the rest of the glass and pours himself another.

Okay then. If he wants to get loaded, go nuts, buddy.

I end up drinking more than usual myself, at least compared to this past month. I started the summer pounding beers like mints, sometimes before noon, but I’ve cut back significantly since getting a handle on the insomnia. However, after three days of nonstop tension and feeling like I’m under a microscope, I’ve earned the right to let loose.

I’m unsteady on my feet by the time we leave the bar. AJ’s girlfriend is our designated driver and surprisingly patient as she helps her boyfriend into the passenger’s seat. Tara’s been nothing but bitchy and entitled since they got here, so it’s nice to see she actually cares about the guy.

AJ is even drunker than I am. He collapses in his seat and cranks open the window, then passes out with his arm hanging out of the car. I sit in the back with Gray and Beau, texting Blake because I’m drunk and horny and I miss her.

Be home in 15. Meet me behind the boathouse.



FRECKLES

Ooh, we’re taking risks again?



Yes.



FRECKLES

Thank God.



It’s pitch-black later when I stumble through the shadows behind the boathouse. I find her leaning against the wall, wearing a loose T-shirt that hangs over her shoulder, no bra strap. That’s my girl. And she’s in a skirt. Definitely my girl.

“Hi—” she starts, but my hands slide under the hem of her shirt, and her hello dissolves into a quiet sigh.

She smells so good. Like summer and sex and lavender. My lips skim her neck, and I drag my tongue along her soft skin, tasting her. Meanwhile, I’m already pushing my hips against her body, trying to get closer.

When she reaches down and squeezes my ass, I groan. Loudly.

“Someone’s going to catch us if you do that again,” she whispers, even as she’s wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me even closer.

As much as I want to take my time with her, sink down on my knees, bring her pussy to my face, and fuck her with my tongue, we’re on borrowed time, and every second we drag out this encounter, we’re in danger of someone catching us.

“Freckles, you know I could spend the rest of my life on my knees making you come…” My hands slide under her skirt, and I stroke her thighs before gripping her ass cheeks. No panties. God, she’s perfect.

“But?” she prompts.

I lick my lips, trying to remember what I was saying before her ass distracted me. “But tonight I need to be selfish and use this tight body before I fucking explode. Are you gonna let me do that?”

With a tiny smile, Blake rises on her tiptoes and leans in until her mouth is a scant inch from mine. “Wyatt?”

“Hmm?” I’m still squeezing her ass.

“Give me your dick.”

And then my good, obedient girl turns around and lifts up her skirt.

Goddamn perfect.

I undo my pants and slip my fingers in the crease of her ass, dragging them lower until I find her pussy. She’s wet and ready for me, and while I’d love nothing more than to slide my bare dick in there and feel her soaking me, we’ve already been there, done that, gotten the Plan B T-shirt. I’m not taking that risk again.

I fish out the condom I stashed in my back pocket and roll it on, then follow through on my seductive threat—I bend her over and thrust deep inside her. When she moans, I curl my arm around her body and bring my hand to her mouth to cover it. She bites my palm, and I have to choke down my own moan.

“Be quiet,” I say. “Just let me use you.”

Rather than take offense, she bucks against me, her inner muscles clamping tight.

I smile. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

The back of her head moves as she nods.

“Can I take my hand off your mouth?”

She nods again.

I move my hand and slide it through her hair, wrapping a hunk of it in my fist. And that’s how I fuck her—fast, deep strokes, one hand pulling her hair, the other hand squeezing her tits. I drive my cock into her until we’re both breathless. I come without telling her, jerking with pleasure, my teeth digging into her shoulder to stifle a groan. I don’t know if she has an orgasm, but she looks sated when she twists around to kiss me.

I pull out and wrap the condom in a tissue I also brought for this exact purpose, then shove it in my pocket.

“That was fun,” Blake murmurs, and I grin.