Page 45 of Love Fast

Here in Star Falls, the only ones who care what I do with Byron are me and Byron. And I’ve never wanted anyone more.

I scoop up two mugs of hot chocolate and pad back into the bedroom.

“That shirt looks sexy on you,” he says. I’m wearing his navy plaid shirt and his socks.

I pause and cock my head to the side. “How sexy?”

His eyes grow hooded, instantly renewing the wetness between my legs. Byron makes sure I’m more than satisfied, but I can’t help wanting more of him. Part of me wonders how long we have left before either we have to make a quick exit to the shelter, or worse, the storm passes and life goes back to normal.

I slide the mugs onto the bedside table and undo the buttons on his shirt, letting it fall open a couple of inches.

He shakes his head disbelievingly, then leaps out of bed and wraps his arms around me from behind. With his face burrowed in my neck, he asks, “You ready for more?”

In answer, I twist my hips against his hardening cock. In one swift movement, he shoves me down to the mattress, my feet still on the floor and my ass still pressing against his thick length. “You like to tease, don’t you?” His hands press on my back to keep me in place and he lifts up the shirt, then smacks a kiss on my ass. A waft of fresh air follows before he lands his palm on my cheek with a sharp slap.

I squeal at the unexpected contact. It kinda stings, but not in a bad way. Actually, it’s kind of hot.

“You have such a perfect ass.” He sinks to his knees and positions me so I’m over his face.

Really?

This is new for me. Frank never went down on me and no one has ever done it like this. It feels… I’m so on display this way. But if that’s what Byron wants, that’s what I want. Not because I want him to like me—although I do. And not because I’m submitting to him because I have no choice. I want what Byron wants because being desired by him is the sexiest I’ve ever felt. I choose to give him what he wants.

He circles my thighs with his hands and his thumbs nudge at my entrance. My knees weaken at his touch. He can see how wet I am. If I wasn’t so turned on right now, I’d be embarrassed. His breath is hot on my skin, and when his tongue lands in my folds, I struggle to keep my weight on my legs. I grab on to the covers on the bed, trying to stay in place.

His tongue darts into me, swirling and pushing, and I press my face into the mattress and cry out. I’m laid out for him and he’s devouring me. It feels so good. The vibrations from his moans travel up my spine and my breasts push into the quilts. I’ve developed one hundred million more nerve endings than normal. My entire body buzzes with feeling. The clamp of his hands around my thighs, the insistent push of his tongue, his stubble everywhere. It’s all too much.

He pulls away, and before I have a chance to figure out what’s happening, he’s over me. He flips me to my back, spreads his shirt wide, then my legs. “You taste fucking delicious. I’m hungry for you.”

He sinks to his knees again and buries his head between my thighs. My fingers find his hair as he brushes and strokes me with his tongue, over and over, while I get wetter and wetter. His beard scratches against my thighs and the contrast between the softness of his tongue and the sharpness of his beard is almost unbearably good. I arch my back and begin to float up, up, up. He circles my clit before sliding first one thumb in, then a finger, working them together, making my hips lift off the bed.

My orgasm tears through me like it’s been held captive for a decade and has just broken free. My body shakes and I cry out. I chant Byron’s name like it’s the answer to every question I didn’t know to ask.

Finally he’s lying next to me. “I’m here, baby,” he whispers. “I’m here.”

I turn into him, hiding, scared at how distant I feel from who I was before I walked into his cabin tonight. How close I feel to him right now. How I never want tonight to be over.

He scoops me up in his arms and pulls me closer. “I’m here,” he says. “I’m here.”

I inhale and let myself sink into him. Eventually, I drift off to sleep.

I don’t know how long I’ve been out when a blaring alarm wakes me.

“Quick,” Byron says. “We need to get into the shelter. It’s the tornado warning.”

I bolt upright and scan the room for clothes. Even if Byron’s the only other person in the shelter, I still want to be wearing panties. We both dress quickly, pull on our boots and coats, and head out. Byron grabs the crate by the door and leads me outside with his other hand.

“Wait!” I say. “We need Athena.”

Like she heard me say her name, she’s at my feet. I scoop her up and we head out.

It’s almost impossible to notice the rain because the wind is so ferocious. The silhouettes of the trees that line each side of the road are swaying like a crowd with its arms outstretched, raging against the sky. We crouch and head across the porch and behind the cabin. Thankfully Byron’s here. I wouldn’t have known where to go. I’ve never faced a tornado before. Never worried about the weather, other than to wonder whether I’m ever going to see the sun again after days of relentless Oregon rain.

The shelter is only ten yards from the cabins, but it’s far enough to get covered in mud from the rain-soaked grass. The shelter has been built into the ground. He flips open the doors and nods for me to go inside. The doors are at an angle, but rain sluices inside in sheets. I don’t have time to ask all the questions I have: Are we going to be able to breathe in there? How big is it? What happens if a tree falls on the door?

My feet slide on the steps as I find myself inside the dark hole. Byron flicks on a light.

He must see something in my expression, because he moves to cup my face and presses a kiss against my forehead. “It’s going to be fine. We’re safe here.”

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