Page 41 of Best of Me

“Yes!” she shrieks. “You have to read it! A deal’s a deal. Please?” Right there, it’s that single word that breaks me.

“I’ll start it tonight.”

“Promise?” she asks as I park outside of the gym. “No, wait. Pinky promise?”

“What are we, five?” I laugh.

“Might as well be. I mean, I spend five days a week with five-year-olds; their antics are bound to rub off on me.” She balls her left hand into a fist with her pinky finger sticking out. “C’mon, pinky promise.”

I link my little finger with hers. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go check out the gym.”

Inside, we’re greeted by a male receptionist I’ve never seen before. His too-light-to-be-natural blond hair is slicked back away from his face; he’s dressed in a pair of workout shorts and a compression top so tight I’m pretty sure I can make out his individual strands of chest hair. “Welcome to Bay Ridge Fitness. How can I help you today?” The guy only has eyes for Mallory, speaking to her—and only her—as if I’m not standing right beside her with my hand on her damn back.

She offers him a small smile. “Hi, I was hoping to learn a little bit about your membership options and maybe get a tour.”

Mr. Receptionist places both of his palms on the desk and leans forward, invading Mallory’s space. “I’d be more than happy to give you a personal tour.” The way his eyes slide over her body tells me his tour would most likely end in either the locker room or an empty office.

Luckily my girl doesn’t take the bait. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you to offer. But I brought my boyfriend here with me.” She reaches for my hand and tugs me forward. “He’s already a member and said he’d be happy to show me around.”

As if he’s just noticing me, Mr. Receptionist’s eyes flick my way. “Great.” His entire demeanor changes now that he knows he doesn’t have a chance in hell with Mallory. He’s all business now. “We have three plans: bronze, silver, and gold.” He covers the ins and outs of each tier before signing her in as a guest and leaving us to our own devices.

I walk her through the gym, pointing out things I think she’ll appreciate—like the multiple water coolers and towel stations. The tour is relatively quick; I mean, a gym is a gym, right? But Mallory seems to like it, so she signs up for the base level membership.

“Wanna grab something to eat?” I ask as we walk back to my truck.

“God, yes,” she moans, the sound shooting straight to my dick.

We hit up a drive-thru, eating our food straight from the bag as we drive back to her house, laughing and cutting up the whole way.

When I pull into her driveway, she turns to me and asks, “You wanna come in?”

Fuck yeah.Instead of a verbal reply, I hop out of the truck and start up the front steps. “C’mon, Cricket!”

She breaks into a run behind me, scrambling up the stairs. The toe of her shoe catches on the top step, sending her flying my way. I reach for her just in time, pulling her into me. With our bodies flush, Mallory’s breathing hard—though if it’s from her fall or our proximity, I’m not sure. What I do know is with the way she’s clinging to me, her big eyes pleading, I have to kiss her.I have to.

Gently, I lean down and capture her lips with mine, sucking and nibbling, until she’s writhing in my arms. “Duke, I need more.”

“I’ll give you what you need, Cricket. Open the door, baby.”

I release her, and she has the door unlocked in the blink of an eye. Once we’re in the house, I take a seat on the couch. “C’mere,” I murmur lowly, crooking my index finger her way, commanding her to close the distance between us. Mallory nibbles her lower lip in an alluring mix of innocence and sin. She moves to sit beside me, but that won’t do. “Nah, right here.” I grip her thigh, pulling her down onto my lap so she’s straddling me.

Aside from the sound of our breathing, the room is completely silent as her soft hands come up and cup my cheeks, her fingers brushing over my stubble. Mallory gives me a soft, tender look—one that looks a whole lot like love—before brushing her lips against mine.

As her kiss turns from tentative to exploring, I can’t help but marvel over how now that we’ve worked out our shit, everything with Mallory feels effortless in a way I never had with Valorie. I know I’m a shit for even thinking it, but there’s something about this woman that fucking sets me on fire.

All thoughts of love, lust, whether what we’re doing is wrong or right—of everything except the here and now—flee my mind when her tongue tangles with mine once again.Fuuuuuck. I can’t remember anything that’s ever felt as good as the feeling of her on me. This may not be our first kiss, but somehow, this one seems different, like we’re on the verge of crossing some invisible line we’ve been toeing.

Our kiss becomes frantic and feverish as she rolls her hips, rubbing herself against my hardness until we’re both panting. “You still need more?” I ask, nipping at her juicy bottom lip.

She moans low, this hungry, throaty sound as she presses her hips into mine again, rolling them faster in search of friction. I spear my fingers into her hair, gathering it into one hand. With her strands tightly grasped in my fist, I pull her head back, baring her neck to me. I lick, kiss, and bite my way down the smooth slope of her neck as I work my other hand beneath her shirt.

“Yes, please.” Her voice is tight with want as I tweak her nipples over the lace of her bra, wishing like hell it was off and on the floor. As if she can read my mind, Mallory pulls away from me and whips her shirt over her head. I waste no time ridding her of the offending lace, dipping down to lick and suck at her rosy buds, one after the other.

I’m about ready to throw her fine ass down onto the couch and show her just how good I can make her feel, but suddenly she shoves away from me. “Take off your shirt,” she rasps, sounding like molten sex.

Her cheeks are rosy from my stubble, and her lips are swollen from my kisses; she looks like a goddess. I’m all too happy to oblige and tug my shirt overhead, depositing it somewhere on the floor. With both hands to my chest, she pushes me into a reclining position and pops the button on my jeans. “I want you. I…I want you.” Bold as fuck, she reaches for me, wrapping both of her hands around my hardness. A groan fights its way past my lips, and my eyes damn near roll back into my skull as her small, warm hands work my dick like she was put on this fucking earth to bring me pleasure.

Her pace increases, and my hips buck, causing me to thrust up into her hands...and all I can think is if her palms feel like heaven then sex with her must be nirvana. God, I’m close,so close—and then she leans down, engulfing my crown with her pillow-soft lips, and I’m a goner. Before she can even really suck—before I can warn her—I’m coming, shooting my release straight down her throat.

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