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Flock (The Ravenhood #1)(98)

Author:Kate Stewart

I smile. It’s not at all what I expected to hear, but it’s Sean, and so it’s perfect. He adjusts me to wrap around him as I sniff into his shoulder, ruining his T-shirt. It’s when I inhale his scent that I bury my face in his chest, unable to fully muffle my sob.

“Don’t cry, baby. Please stop, fuck,” he hangs his head, “this hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” I say through a snot-filled nose, looking over at him. “It’s just. You smell like wood.”

He cracks a smile a mile wide and chuckles. “What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. You smell like wood, like cedar and sunshine and I love the way you smell, and I would hate it if I couldn’t smell you anymore. And I do take you ser-ser-seriously.”

He stares down at me, his eyes full of affection as my breath starts to hitch in a way that lets me know I just ugly cried.

“It was just a fight.”

“You cut me back,” I say, my breath hitching making me do that involuntary head and chest twitch. I’m humiliated I’m reacting this way. “And it hurt. But I deserved it.”

“Maybe, but I’m still going to make it up to you,” he assures, grabbing a slice of watermelon. He takes a bite and offers it to me as I sniffle and turn my head. “I’m good.”

He takes another bite and repeats his offering, and I shake my head, denying him. By his third slice, we’re sharing while I start to come down from the most excruciating emotional high.

“I went girl on you,” I admit, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment.

“Yeah, well, I went raging dick on you, so we’re even.”

I palm his jaw. “I’m sorry, Sean.”

“Me too, baby.”

He presses the watermelon to my lips, and I bite into the juice-laden fruit. He licks the remnants of tears along with juice off my face before he pulls me into a deep kiss. “Sorry about the fireworks.”

“I don’t care about the stupid fireworks. Just…” my breath hitches again and I can see it pains him. “Just don’t forget about me while you’re out saving the world.”

“Impossible.”

I look over at him imploringly. “I need you to believe me. Because I do believe in you, Sean. So much. I saw my father today, and I think he was trying to bridge the gap, and all I could think was that I don’t respect him enough to try. No matter what excuses he gives. I don’t respect him. And then I thought about you, and I realized I have this respect for you that I’ve never had for any man in my life. I want you to know,” I exhale a shuddering breath as my eyes water, “that. I need you to know that.”

He tosses his watermelon and palms my face, holding my gaze for long seconds before he presses the gentlest of kisses to my lips. He pulls away slightly so our foreheads touch. “What do you say we make up now?”

“I thought we did.”

“We did, but this, right here, this is the best part,” he captures my mouth in a deep kiss. Sinking into it, our tongues dance as I start to lift his shirt, my breath hitching against his mouth, disrupting our kiss.

“Baby,” he murmurs, biting his lip and running gentle knuckles across my chin as he gazes over at me. Then he dips, his descent slow and deliberate before he again presses his lips to mine. Leisurely, he slips the straps of my dress down before lowering the material to free my breasts. Nipples tight, he runs a rough, warm hand along the whole of my chest. Following his pace, I unhook the button of his jeans and unzip him, pulling his ready cock free. Eyes locked, I pump him in my hand as he fishes a condom from his wallet, before he crushes my mouth with another consuming kiss. Positioning me, he pulls me to the edge of the counter before rolling the condom on. Pressing his forehead to mine, eyes cast down, we collectively watch as he slowly pushes into me.

“Sean,” I rasp out as he exhales a pleasured breath.

Emotions zing between us as his hands flatten me to the counter while the rest of the forgotten watermelon slides to the floor. His strokes are deep, his eyes full of love, as his sticky hands palm my breasts trailing down my new dress. It was worth every penny.

He leaves no place untouched.

TYLER EXITS HIS TRUCK WHEN he spots me pulling up, that natural swagger of his greeting me at my driver’s side door.

“Hey, beautiful.” His dimple appears, and I drink in the sight of him. He’s let his hair grow a little longer since I met him, only adding to his appeal. It lies in a mess of short waves on his head. His rich brown eyes sweep me as he pulls me into a friendly hug.