Page 20 of Take Two

“I could never forget.” She removes my shirt, and I toss it to the floor. I lift her crop top over her head and it joins my shirt. She takes off her bra and her breasts bounce free.

She stands, and we quickly finish undressing ourselves. I lie in the middle of her bed, completely naked, and she straddles me again. I trace my fingertips down her spine, and her body floods with goosebumps.

“I like the feel of your skin,” I whisper. “And the taste of your lips.”

She rests her body on top of me and licks the side of my neck.

“I like how you smell and taste.” She kisses and licks her way down my body, gently biting me along the way. She stops kissing long enough to look up at me. “It makes my pussy wet.”

“Darlin’,” I say, blushing.

“And that. I like how you blush whenever I swear.” She reaches down and grabs me. “And this. I love having this inside of me.”

“I love when you gag on it first.” She does what I’ve been thinking about all day and slides down my body and takes me into her mouth. I’m long and thick, so there’s no way she can take it all, but she tries. She takes it as deep as possible, and just like last night, she gags. That makes me harder. She does it again and again, bringing me to the brink of insanity.

She stops and straddles me. I can feel how hot and wet she is. I grab her hips, and when she aligns me at her entrance, she throws her head back as she slowly sinks down.

“God damn,” she whispers.

“Yeah. God damn,” I repeat. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” The curse slips out of my mouth, and I make a mental note to apologize to her later, but for now, I just want to feel myself ensconced in her soft walls. I hold on to her while she slowly grinds and bounces up and down on me.

I need more. I need to feel myself all the way inside of her. I lift her off.

“What the hell?” she complains. I flip us over and put her on her back. I lift one of her legs and slide all the way inside of her. One set of fingers dig into my butt cheek and her other hand glides through my hair.

I take it slow and give her long and deep strokes. She moans, and as firm as her body is from her workouts, she feels soft and pliant underneath me. She’s completely soaked as I glide in and out of her. I might not remember any other sexual encounters, but I’m positive none of them were ever this good.

“Charlie,” she whispers in my ear, “you fuck me so good,” she moans. She starts to talk some more, but I silence her with a kiss so deep she groans, and I feel more moisture gush from between her legs. She starts to shake underneath me, and I feel the pressure in my balls and the friction travels up my spine. I explode inside of her. I know I call out her name, but I’m too far gone to know if I screamed it or whispered it.

“Your phone was buzzing again,” Violet says. I shut her bedroom door with my foot and hand her a bottle of water. Still completely naked, I slide into the bed next to her. Her hand wraps around me right away.

“Cold,” I yell. She drops her hand.

“Sorry,” she giggles. My phone buzzes and I reach for it. It’s a text message from Colt asking if I’m okay. I send him a thumbs up emoji and toss the phone away again.

“What are you doin’ tomorrow?” I ask.

“Dinner with my mother, my mother’s husband, sister, and sister’s husband. It’s Mom’s birthday,” she says. She doesn’t sound too happy about it. Mama’s birthday is like a national holiday in our family.

“You don’t sound very enthusiastic about it,” I say.

“I’m not. Things are complicated between me and them. The only person I get along with is my dad.”

“It’s safe to assume he won’t be there.”

“My parents avoid each other as much as possible. I don’t think he’s laid eyes on her in years. Me and my sister have different fathers. When my mom and dad divorced, she remarried her first husband.” She huffs at the thought.

“How old were you when all of that happened?”

“They divorced when I was thirteen, then Dad’s job relocated him to London. Mom remarried when I was about fifteen. The dynamics changed, and I just started counting the days until summer vacation so I could go be with my dad.”

“You and your stepdaddy don’t get along?”

“Ugh. That’s the under-exaggeration of the year. I don’t call him my stepdad. He’s my mother’s husband, and no, Violet Dixon and Wade Scott do not get along at all.” She stops talking and rests her head on my shoulder.

“Care to tell me more about that?”

“I don’t want to scare you away with that crap.” She turns and starts to nibble my neck. I groan at how good it feels, but I inch away.