Page 60 of Puck Love

When I open my eyes,I’m curled up in Van’s bed, hugging his pillow to my chest. The man in question is nowhere in sight, but the scent of eggs and toast wafts in from downstairs. I smile to myself. Sex with Van was incredible, and he hadn’t been lying when he said he planned on making me come all night. I stretch out my aching muscles. I’m sore everywhere. I guess sleeping with a pro-athlete who happens to have a giant cock will do that to you. It takes me far too long to get out of bed and, I hobble a little as I walk to the bathroom. When I’m done freshening up, I throw on his Crushers hoodie and slowly pad downstairs, taking them one at a time because . . .ouch. Van is in the kitchen dressed in a pair of sweats, and nothing else. I wrap myself around him from behind and rest my head against his broad back. He stills for a second and then runs his hands up and down myarms.

“There’s my snuggle bunny,” he says, turning in my embrace. “How are youfeeling?”

I groan. “I think you brokeme.”

He chuckles. “I didn’t breakyou.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you did. I don’t think I’ll ever be having sex again. Every muscle in my body aches. Is it supposed to hurt thismuch?”

“When done right, yeah. You’ll get used toit.”

I stretch on tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek, morning breath and all, and then because I’m embarrassed I didn’t brush my teeth before coming down here, I turn away. Van’s arm shoots out to stop me, almost knocking the hot pan from the stove, but he catches it just in time.Goodreflexes.

“Where are yougoing?”

“I have morningbreath.”

He dips his finger into a glass jar on the counter. It comes out sticky and covered in syrup. “Open up and sayah.”

“Oh my god, you’re an animal.” I open my mouth anyway, and he slides his finger in. I lick the sticky, sweet syrup from his skin, and then I hollow my cheeks and suck hard, releasing him with apop.

He groans. “Fuckme.”

I chuckle. “Can we eat first? I’mstarved.”

Van shakes his head and plates up eggs and toast. He adds a side of bacon for himself. I get to work on pouring coffee for us both. I need it after the sex marathon lastnight.

“No Sigi thismorning?”

“Nope. I’m pretty sure we scared her away last night with all the screaming. She comes and goes as she pleases though, so I’m sure she’ll be back.” I decide I may have to do a lot more screaming in the near future to keep Van tomyself.

I sit at the table opposite Van, and while we might be eating in silence, the mischievous glances and half-smiles say too much. When I’ve had my fill of breakfast, I climb onto the table and crawl across the space between us, knocking plates, cutlery, and empty coffee cups to the floor. Van looks surprised, but he catches on quickly and pushes his chair back as I climb into his lap. I kiss his mouth, and slide my sticky fingers into his hair. He tastes like syrup.Delicious. I slip my hand between our bodies and into the fabric of his waistband. I tease his hard cock with soft strokes of my fingertips over the crown, and he jerks against my hand. I grip the head and squeeze, and then I lift my hips and guide him inside. It hurts—my body is too tender from last night’s love-making, but I stay still and allow myself to adjust to his thickness. Van removes my oversized hoody and tosses it on the floor amongst the wreckage of our breakfast. He kisses my neck, my shoulder, and finally dips his head to my breasts. I’m done for. Heat surges within me as I rock my hips back andforth.

“Fuck, country,” Van groans. “I love the way you ride mycock.”

I close my lips over his because I can’t get enough of his taste. Nor can I get enough of the feel of him inside me. It’s so hot and hard, and surprisingly tender. This closeness, the warm wet slide of bodies? It’s incomparable to anything I’ve ever experienced. I search his gaze, silently hoping that he feels it too, and when he looks into my eyes I know that he’s right here with me. He’s not fucking Stella Hart, the country star. He’s not out to use me or sell our story to the tabloids, and we’re not anything more than Van and Stella. Just two people who happen to like each other, and who like getting naked together.A lot. And it’s so sweet it about breaks myheart.

Van’s hand grips my ass as he rocks us faster. His other hand squeezes my breast, pinching my nipple, and I throw my head back as the heat unfurls from the soles of my feet and floods my entire body, sparking my synapses and nerve endings all to life. “Van,” Imoan.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” He pants, as he picks up his pace and what started out as sweet gentle love-making becomes something more, something primal and aggressive, something beautiful and strange. It’s so surreal to be here with him like this, the man who saved my life, and who’s been saving me every second since. A man I’ve fallen hard for, though I know it’s too soon, too much, too fast. I can’t help it. It could just be the incredible sex, or the orgasm talking, but I’m addicted to him like a chain smoker craving her next cigarette. I keep breathing him in. I exhale, and just when I think I’ll be able to let him go, walk away and go back to my life in Tennessee, I find I need anotherhit.

I need to leave. I need to get away, but one look in his eyes and I come undone again. I don’t want to be anywhere else. I collapse against him, our bodies sweaty and spent. I tuck my head into the space beneath his neck and sigh as he traces his fingertips across my back, and I hope like hell I never have toleave.

A few hours later, we lieon the rug in front of the fireplace, naked from head to toe and wrapped up in one another. A blanket covers us both, and we doze in the pristine white light coming in through the huge floor-to-ceiling window. Snow patters against it, and I lie on Van’s chest and stare at the falling flakes as they stick to the glass before melting a moment later. I don’t want to move.Ever.

Van Ross is everything I never knew I wanted. Strong, funny, surprisingly sweet, and fantastic in bed. I never saw myself dressing in white—the very thought is insane, and likely the result of too many orgasms—but as I lie here, my body stretched out on top of his, my ear pressed against his chest and listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, I can see happily-ever-after. With my head full of impossible dreams, I drift into sleep as softly as the snow fallsoutside.

I’m woken a little laterby what sounds like a slamming car door, and boots trudging up the stairs. Panic seizes me, and I shake his shoulder. “Oh my god, Van, wakeup.”

“Eh?”

“There’s someonehere.”

“Go back to sleep,babe.”

Just then, a woman’s voice filters in from the front door, and before I can do anything more than cast my gaze around for my clothes, Emmett and a blonde, elegant woman, most likely in her fifties, are bearing down on us. She covers her mouth. “Oh,my.”

Van shoots up into a sitting position, too fast. The blanket shifts, exposing me to the room and I grab a nearby cushion to cover my naked chest. Van doesn’t seem to notice my distress. He’s too busy rubbing his shoulder. “Ah!”

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