Page 66 of Cutter's Hope

“What do you want to do?” I asked her softly.

“You’re gonna love it,” she dumped her bag from the drugstore out on the couch, boxes of pesticide shampoo falling out and bouncing to the floor.

“Preemptive measures?” I asked.

“Full tactical assault,” she affirmed.

“Hell you know I’m all about those…” and so that’s how we spent our first night as a fuckin’ couple with her moved into my place. Drinking beer and shampooing and combing the hell out of each other’s hair looking for any stray head lice accrued from her sister.

Ain’t love fuckin’ grand?

31

Hope…

I closed my eyes. It had been years and years since anyone had combed my hair for anything other than a precision trim. I’d forgotten how relaxing, how meditative it could be. Cutter’s fingers were sure but very gentle as he combed my hair carefully. Since it was less likely that he had anything I’d done his first. Not so much as a nit.

“Anything yet?” I asked and my voice sounded dreamy and relaxed. Between the hair combing and the buzz I had going on from my beer, I wasn’t in a bad place right now, but leave it to Cutter to make it better. He pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder, I sat on his floor wrapped in a towel, peeling the label off my beer, holding it awkwardly in my casted hand.

“A few,” he murmured, “No eggs that I can tell, I think you’re safe.”

“Hmm,” I huffed a laugh, “My hero,” I said softly. He drew the comb through the long strands of my hair, and I sighed.

“Hell of a way to get you moved in,” he commented dryly.

“I don’t recall agreeing to live with you,” I said and took a deep swallow of my beer. I wanted to. I wanted to put down roots so bad but I was afraid. I wanted to maintain my independence too. I felt like I was relying on Cutter entirely too much by this point. I wasn’t, nor would I ever be, a woman who couldn’t handle her own shit.

“Let’s get something straight, Sweetheart. I said you were mine back there and you didn’t disagree so that makes you mine.”

“Oh, does it?” I asked amused but my temper was also getting a good start, fueled by alcohol and the sense that I was somehow being cornered. Except how could I be cornered into something that Iwanted?

“Yep,” he cradled me back against him and pressed his lips a little more insistently against my skin, and of course he had to say the one thing that would unravel me completely…

“I love you,” and just like that I came completely undone all over again.

I took a deep breath and fought down the welling tears but he’d more than earned it, more than deserved me saying it back and so I said, “I love you too,” my voice cracking.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” he tugged on me and I stood up, turning around. He pulled on my towel and it fell to the floor and with a final guiding tug he pulled me down across his lap, I straddled him, and his towel was very much in the way.

His arms snaked around me and our lips met, carefully at first, then more insistent, hungry then ravenous, we devoured each other. I loved his wandering hands on my body, how they teased me how they gripped my ass and the appreciative and very enthusiastic noise that occurredwhenthey gripped my ass. He pulled me tight up against him, one arm pinning me against his body the other teasing my pussy, fingers rubbing, looking for a way in though he couldn’t see what he was doing the way he had a hold of me.

I held my casted arm against me, my other hand tangled, fisted, in his long, damp hair as our mouths attacked each other. The fact his towel separated us quickly became infuriating. Cutter reached between us and gyrating his hips shoved the terrycloth out of the way and in a perfect moment of synchronicity pushed himself so I could glide down over the top of him.

I moaned into his mouth as he filled me and sighed in satisfaction as he became fully seated inside of me. He broke the kiss just long enough to look up at me. He leaned back and with a soft sigh said, “Take your pleasure Baby, I wanna watch you move.”

So. Hot.

I rode him, slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact, and the depth of the emotion in his eyes left me breathless. He talked me up, his voice low and intense telling me things every woman wants to hear but never really believes. He told me that I was beautiful, that I was tight; that I felt so fucking good. That he loved my body, that I was everything good, and perfect for him and when he spoke, I listened and I couldn’t stop myself frombelievinghim if I wanted to.

It heightened the experience like nobody’s business, a warm glow suffusing me from the inside out until I felt positively radiant. When his hands smoothed over my skin I tightened around him and it brought me that much higher. When his thumb found my clit, gently stroking, teasing me there, the world stopped spinning, the universe held its collective breath, my pussy gave a deep, satisfying throb and all that time that stood still, caught up all at once and I was spinning, hurdling back to earth, beautifully free falling through space and time and sensation, until I came back to myself, safe in Cutter’s arms.

God damn, orgasms with him were the most intense thing I had ever felt in my life. I shuddered with little aftershocks as he held me, blinking stars out of my vision, yeah, stars, as in blotches and fire bursts of color swimming across my vision, obscuring the room. My head lay on Cutter’s shoulder as I panted and his arms held me to his body. I was up on my knees and he took full advantage of that, thrusting lazily but evenly up inside me, drawing out the crashing waves of my orgasm until they gently lapped at my edges, the tide of intensity receding gradually.

“Holy God!” I half gasped half groaned and Cutter chuckled.

“Can you hold onto me? I want to finish this in my bed,” he murmured into the side of my neck, kissing me there, lips, tongue and teeth worrying at the erogenous zone, sending a wash of tingling bliss skittering along my edges, washing over my skin.

It took me several moments to get my shit together enough to wrap my arms around his strong shoulders in any kind of grip that left him secure enough to lean forward and propel us up with his strong legs. The cast on my arm made it awkward at first and I thought for sure I was going to slide off him and crash through the coffee table at one point, before he got his hands under my thighs and hitched me up so I could wrap my legs around him.

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