Page 12 of After Party

“God, Scott,” she moaned. “Only you can make me feel this way.”

Damn.

This woman, in spite of all her craziness and trouble and mischief, was smart as a whip and she saw everything. She saw him. She knew exactly the buttons to push to get what she wanted.

He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, tossed it onto the hood of the car and with one hand withdrew a condom all without letting go of her. He stepped back only enough to unbutton and unzip his pants, push them and his underwear out of the way and then roll the condom on.

Her gaze took in every detail and she licked her lips. “Finally,” she breathed softly.

That was all it took for him to step close, grip her butt, pull her close and slide home.

They moaned together and Scott literally had to stop for a moment and just breathe. She was…perfection.

He pulled back to look down at her, stunned for a moment. How could one thrust feel this amazing?

“And this is wish number three,” he told her gruffly.

Then he couldn’t help but move. And move. And move. He took long, slow, deep thrusts, but soon it wasn’t enough. His body wanted more and wanted it fast and hard. A year of pent-up want seemed to be rushing through him and he gripped her harder and moved faster.

“Yes. Oh, yesss,” she hissed

“You with me?” he asked between gritted teeth, hoping he could hang on,needingher to come first, desperate to hear her cry out his name, but his climax was closing in on him like a freight training barreling toward the station and he was very afraid he was going to get plowed over.

“I’m so with you,” she breathed.

He willed himself to slow down. There was no way she was getting there already. He should have taken care of her first. He should have just taken his fucking time. It’s not like he didn’t want to kiss and touch and taste every damned inch of her.

But thinking about that—about all of the inches he hadn’t even really seen, not to mention enjoyed thoroughly—was no way to slow his pending orgasm.

“Damn, Peyton, hold on.” He grabbed her hips and tried to hold her still, tried to stop or even pull back, but she wrapped her legs around him tighter, linked her ankles at his low back and seemed to pull him in deeper.

“Don’t stop,” she panted, her breath hot against his neck as she squeezed him everywhere she had a hold of him—with her thighs around his waist and her sweet heat around his cock. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

It was her voice, her needing him, finally having her in his arms, knowing that he was what she wanted and needed right now—all of that spun into one huge, fist that squeezed his heart and wouldn’t let go.

He moved, thrusting deep, unable to hold back and as a hot, perfect, absolutely shattering orgasm rolled up and through him, he knew he was going on without her. And he couldn’t have stopped if his life depended on it.

Several long moments after the best orgasm of his life, his breathing finally began to slow and he became aware of their position. Peyton’s face was against his neck, her legs still around his waist, her chest against his, as if she was trying to keep every available inch of her against him. He reached behind her and unlocked the cuffs. Immediately her arms went around his neck. She was hugging him, holding him, not letting go, clearly not willing to let a centimeter of space between them, in the aftermath ofhisorgasm.

His orgasm. Nottheirorgasms. Just his.

Fuck. This was bad.

A cold ball settled in Scott’s chest and he was amazed at how quickly and completely his sanity had left, and how quickly and completely it was coming back to him.

Fuuuuck.

He had messed this up. So, so badly.

And he didnotwant to let her go either. Because she felt amazing in his arms.

And because he was afraid he wasn’t going to have her there again for a very long time.

So he held her. He couldn’t be the one to pull back first. He couldn’t let her go until she was ready to be let go. He couldn’t go home and mentally beat the shit out of himself until she was ready to be let go.

That would all happen way too soon.

A few minutes later, she sucked in a huge breath. “Holy crap, Hansen,” she said, letting it out. Her arms slowly relaxed from around his neck.

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