Page 24 of Sparrow

“Harder,” she begged. “Please, just fuck me.”

“I want to savor you.”

“You’re killing me.”

“I promise you.” He kissed her softly on his inward thrust. “It’s worth it,” he said when he pulled out again.

And it was. Holy fucking Christ, it was.

She’d read somewhere the French referred to orgasms asla petite mort, or the little death. Lying beside Jacob, with his arm draped over her middle, his beard tickling the back of her neck, the heat of him warming her to the point she wanted to throw off all the blankets, she realized she must have died a thousand deaths before he fell asleep.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t join him. She couldn’t move either, and it had nothing to do with the massive two hundred something pound biker at her back. He’d worn her out in the best way and she didn’t want to.

Closing her eyes, she enjoyed it. The scratchy feeling of his chest hairs on her back, his rumbled snoring, and the way when he moved, he pulled her back against him. She never wanted it to end.

Saudades de você.

Even though it’d been her mother who had explained the concept to her, she heard it in her father’s voice. Jacob was the one—saudades de você—and she needed to do something about that. She’d wasted enough time.

Chapter 15

Romeo

“Rise and shine, fuck-o,” Dash sang as he kicked Romeo’s bed, startling him awake.

Rolling over, he held a hand up to block the beams of sunshine spilling through the fully opened window, Romeo squinted. “What the fuck?” he croaked, his voice laced with sleep.

“Never seen you sleep so hard,” his brother commented as he peeled a banana.

Ignoring him, Romeo reached back and swiped his hand over the cool, empty half of the bed. Turning away from his sponsor, he scanned the room.

The bathroom door was open with no one inside. The floor held only his boots and jeans. His leathers were still laid over the chair. Blinking, he looked back to Dash, who arched a brow at him.

“Lose something?” The amused tone meant he wasn’t nearly as clueless as he led on.

Sitting up fully, Romeo rested his forearms on his knees while his jaw slid side to side. She’d left him in the middle of the night, or the morning. Who the fuck knew? He’d lost track of time, but knew it was dark when they’d finally worn themselves out, and he’d been satisfied he’d familiarized himself with every freckle. At one point, he’d tried counting them. She didn’t let him get past eighty-four.

“When’d you get in?” he asked Dash before scrubbing his face with both hands.

“Little bit ago.” His sponsor shrugged. “Here, this is for you.”

Dropping his hands from his face, Romeo peered at his friend, holding a folded piece of paper with his name on it. “Did you see her?” he asked, swiping the paper from him.

“Her who? Lollipop Girl?” The mattress squeaked when Dash dropped his thick body on the opposite bed. “Nah.”

“Then how do you know it’s from her?” he asked as he lifted the folded flap.

“Who else writes you notes?”

Jacob,

There are no words. I have to take care of a few things, so I’m sorry for just cutting out on you. I don’t want to lose contact again. So, I can finally give you my number.

Text me,

Sparrow

She did. After nine years, she’d given him her phone number. A smile spread on half his face when he lowered the letter.

---