Page 72 of Curveball
“Yeah, baby?”
“Gonna come, Max. God, I gotta . . .”
I drive into her and give her a slap on the rounded flesh of her ass that turns her skin a nice shade of pink. Then, I lay over her as I continue to plunge in and out, my chest to her back, skin to skin, and reach between her thighs to help her find her release. Her clit is engorged and juicy, wetness from her pussy flooding her channel and seeping out. I rub tight circles over her sensitive bud and she bucks, screams, curses. I change my movements to wider circles, and then long, firm strokes, and Palmer comes undone.
She’s still rocking back against me, but I’ve been holding off for a minute. In no time, I’m pulling out and pulsing, coating her back with thick streams of cum as a satisfied growl rips from my throat.
Before I can hop up to get a washcloth from the bathroom, she’s rolled over to her back and kicked the bolster off the bed. Her arms reach for me and I slide into them, then smoothly pull her naked body into the length of me, holding her closeand soothing her until her breathing is deep and even and she’s fallen asleep.
I set a timer on my smartwatch and let myself unwind, nestled with my girl. We no longer have a physical connection, me inside of her, but this peace—this trust—that’s settled in my soul, is every bit as precious.
I tighten my arms around her and hold off a yawn. My girl has made a good life for herself and her son and that took bravery, and courage. But she went through a shit ton of grief to get what she wants. My last thought before I doze is that this is where I want to be—here, to support her, to provide whatever makes her happy—for however long she’ll let me.
Chapter 24
Palmer
I rouse to the sound of Max in the shower, the steady splash of the spray hitting ceramic tile, and a twisted mess of comforter and cool sheets beneath my palm. Late afternoon light streams in at the edges of the closed blinds and I squint against it. I didn’t mean to doze off, and I wonder if Max did too.
Max is awake, preparing to leave for tonight’s flight, and he left the bathroom door ajar.Nice. I push my hair off my face, and scoot so the covers are pulled to my still-naked chest and I’m sitting against the headboard, awaiting his naked reflection in the plate glass mirror once he steps out. Yes, like a perv. Because, apparently, I’ve become addicted to the sight of this man with no clothes on—his colorful tattoos, his gloriously firm muscles. But then, I remind myself—he’s leaving soon.
I maneuver a pillow for support between my back and my antique iron bed frame, and reach for my phone, one eye on my peep show, enjoying him while he’s here.
I didn’t miss anything from Dylan, though I didn’t expect him to reach out so soon. Assembling a polyester tent in thewoods and cooking over an outdoor fire were high on his list of anticipated adventures. Checking in with the woman who birthed him? Somewhat lower.
The water stops and the shower curtain scrapes back on its rod. Max steps one foot over the side of the tub, and then the other, the me-sized towel that’s nowhere big enough for his large frame caught in his hands as he uses it to dry his hair. There’s no way that thing will fit around his waist without gaping, and I smirk behind my hand, quietly so I don’t betray myself and draw his attention. With a shrug, he drapes it over his shoulders and pads into the bedroom, buck-ass naked.
And pulls up short with a wicked grin when he spots me watching him.
“Enjoying the show?”
“Possibly,” I say. I’m lying. Iwouldn’t be mad if he returned to the bathroom and then walked back in. “Were youbeat-boxing?”
He goes a little pink from the neck up. And braces himself over me on the bed.
“We don’t tell a soul,” he growls into my neck, and I laughingly cringe when the low rumble of his voice causes goose bumps to rise on the flesh of my bare shoulder.
“Are you kidding? I was about to video it for later and watch it with popcorn.”
He pops his face out of my neck, his nose inches from mine, his expression earnest.
“Come with me.”
I pull my head back. “What?” It’s a natural reaction to say that. I know perfectly well what he just said, and the idea is crazy. Tempting, but?—
“On my trip. Come to Michigan with me for the weekend.” His eyes light with excitement. “Look, Nat’s with Adele. And Dylan is with his friend. When was the last time you got away?”
Pretty much never, that’s when.
Without waiting for me to respond out loud, he tackles me, rolling over me and pulling us down so we’re flat on the mattress together and tangled in already-rumpled sheets.
“We could do grown-up things together. You know . . . later.”
“I . . . ” My mind is racing.Can I do this? What if Dylan needs me?
He’s ripping the covers from my body, working his lips down my naked chest, pausing to tease one nipple, and then its neglected mate.
“Palmer, I want your pussy in my mouth and I want it devouring my cock,” he mumbles with his mouth full of breast, his eyes hot and zeroed in on mine, and my core tenses in response. “Every goddamned night. And day. All weekend long.”
