Page 31 of Paxton

“Oh,God,” I moan, my senses firing, sparking to life as I hurtle toward release again.

Pax wraps a strong arm around my lower back, holding me so damn tightly as we crash against each other, taking control even though I’m on top of him. He thrusts into me, faster, harder, hitting every spot I possess, as he pushes me over the edge, shoving one release right into another.

“Monroe,” he growls my name as his pace increases, and he captures my mouth as he pumps into me. I wrap my arms around him, drawing him close, holding onto him as tightly as he’s holding onto me, knowing I have no intention of letting him go. “Fuck,” he groans as I rock harder against him, chasing another round of bliss as we find our release together.

I shiver atop him, our kiss turning softer, slower, as we catch our breath.

And as we come down, I slowly draw back enough to look at him.

His eyes find mine, sated and happy, and I swear I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.

CHAPTER 9

PAXTON

I stretch awake,my mind rapidly crashing to reality when someone shifts against me at the movement.

I glance down, my heart expanding in my chest as my eyes fall on a very sleepy Monroe.

She rolls over to her own pillow, her back beautifully bare, the rest of her hidden beneath the crisp sheet over her hips.

Holy shit.

I slept with my best friend last night.

And it was the single most amazing night of my life.

I swallow hard, gently slipping out of the bed so I don’t disturb her and pause only a second to look down at her again. Fucking hell, she’s amazing.

I head to the bathroom, hurrying to brush my teeth and throw on a pair of light cotton pants before padding barefoot through the bungalow, quietly placing an order to room service before heading out to lean against the deck.

The sun is just rising, washing the sky in a beautiful stretch of orange and blue, the ocean going on forever toward the horizon. Salt tinges the air, the humidity clinging to my skin even this early in the morning. But there’s something about this momentthat feels different than all the moments before it, and it has nothing to do with the scenery.

It’s Monroe.

The way she opened up to me last night.

The way she kissed me, touched me, fucked me.

I’ve imagined it so many times, but last night? It was everything.

And I can’t help the fear that creeps up, icy and cold, in my chest at the thought of what will happen when she wakes up.

Will she disappear like after our moment outsideThe Queen’s Rum? Or will she be open and honest with me, like she’d been last night? Will she pretend like it never happened? Or will she want me to take lead on how to behave?

Fucking hell. HowshouldI behave?

The thoughts race through my mind like a looped track, and I do my best to take a giant fucking breath. I have to get a grip.

Another few breaths, and room service is knocking on the door. I let the resort staff in, thanking them after they’ve set up breakfast on the table on the deck before quietly making their exit.

I hesitate only a few more moments, grappling with what to do. I finally decide to just be myself. I’ve always been that way around her, despite hiding my true feelings, and now that that seal is partially broken? All I can do is be me. She deserves that. No games. No bullshit. Just me.

I head back into the room, leaning over the bed to gently wake her up.

She stretches, groaning a little. “It’s so early,” she yawns.

“Breakfast is ready,” I say, knowing food is a surefire way to create a happy awakening when it comes to her.

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