This woman is magic.
She props her hands on my chest, which is good because it distracts me from the ache inside it. She leans down and kisses me. Against my mouth, she whispers, “Okay, cowboy. Giddyup.”
She arches back, giving me a beautiful view of her body. Full tits, soft belly, curved hips. Dark hair flowing around gleaming shoulders. Then she curls her hand around my dick and guides me inside her with a wicked grin.
And I want to kill her ex all over again.
The audacity of that prick. Hurting her. An angel with a sensitive soul, a smart mouth, and a dirty mind. I should rip that selfish idiot’s arms and legs from his body, throw him off the Santa Monica Pier, and wave at him while I watch him sink into the Pacific.
Picturing it, I smile.
“My, my, now that’s a devilish grin.”
“You want devilish? Hang onto your hat, sweetheart, cause here we go.”
I grip her hips in my hands and thrust up into her wet heat again and again, watching those gorgeous tits bounce every time our bodies meet. She shakes her hair off her shoulders and makes the single most sexy, feminine noise I’ve ever heard, a laughing little gasp of pleasure that pulls an answering growl from my throat.
She’s soon moaning. Sinking her nails into my skin. Begging me to go faster, harder, deeper, to give her everything I’ve got.
“You first, baby.” I press my thumb against her clit and stroke it up and down.
It might be the broken cry of ecstasy that leaves her lips that pushes me over the edge. It might be the way her thighs clench around my body. It might be the way she arches back and squeezes her own breasts, pinching her hard nipples.
Or it might be that I’ve caught a glimpse of how my life could be if only I were a different man.
A better man.
A man who deserves a woman like this.
Whatever the cause, my orgasm crashes into me so fast and hard, it steals my breath. I lie beneath her, convulsing with pleasure, my fingers sunk into her sweet flesh, staring up at this beautiful stranger who’s given me a memory I already know I’ll return to over and over for the rest of my life.
Yeah, sex is great. But connection? Real connection?
It’s so valuable and rare, some people would kill for it.
A fact I’m all too familiar with.
Shay
I open my eyes and look down at Cole to find him gazing up at me with an expression of such complete adoration, it makes my heart flip.
He rasps, “Goddamn, baby,” then tips his head back, closes his eyes, and releases a guttural groan from deep within his chest.
My own orgasm is still pulsing through me, but watching Mr. Dark and Stormy lose control and give himself over to pleasure is so enthralling, I can’t look away.
His abs are clenched. The veins in his neck are popping. His whole body strains upward into mine as he clutches my hips and shudders. He moans again, but this time the sound forms the shape of my name.
“Shay. Fuck. Shay. Oh God, sweetheart—fuck—”
I feel like he plugged me into a socket. Electricity surges through me, crackling hot. Along with it comes a sweet, unexpected tenderness that makes me want to kiss him all over his handsome face, take him in my arms, and promise him I’ll never let anything hurt him again.
Then I give myself a bracing mental slap across the face.
Snap out of it, dummy! It’s just sex!
I know it’s more than that, at least for me, but I’ll be damned if I’ll admit it aloud. I’ve done enough caretaking of men for one lifetime. I’ve given enough of myself away for nothing in return. Tonight is about taking back my power and shoring up my battered self-esteem.
The fact that I’m using a sexy stranger with a magnetic personality and a big dick to do it is just the icing on top of the cake.
He pulls me down to lie on his chest and sinks a hand into my hair. Holding my head steady, he kisses me with searing passion, stroking his tongue against mine as he releases himself in jerks and shudders. After one final moan and a full-body twitch, it’s over, and he’s bathed in sweat.
And still kissing me.
It turns from desperate and passionate to slow and sweet. His big hands cradle my head. His ragged breathing returns to normal. He explores my mouth with his tongue until I’m dizzy, then tucks my head into the crook between his neck and shoulder and heaves a tremendous sigh.
He’s still buried inside me. Still hard.
Closing my eyes, I smile.
After a while, he stirs. His voice husky, he says, “You okay?”
“Okay is far too weak a word for what I am right now. Job well done, cowboy.”