Page 13 of Hot Hearts
“You excited to have that inside you?” I say as I move down from the reddened patch of her neck to her rosy tits. “I’m going to fill you up.”
“You might break me apart.”
The way I’m reacting to her touch, I’m the one who is going to be in pieces soon, not her. “And then I’ll put you back together, tenderly.” I squeeze her breasts, pushing them until a deep, fuckable valley forms.
“I appreciate that you added tender.”
“Always a gentleman,” I lie. I’ve never been much for putting ladies first and all that shit. Everyone is the same in my kitchen, man or woman. But Slater is all woman, all tits, hips, and ass. She has the body of a girl who likes food. Lush and welcoming. Full of life. I drag my hands down her sides, my thumbs skimming lightly over her belly until they stop at the top of her lightly trimmed bush. “You sore anywhere? I’ll be careful.” I should’ve asked Doc, but it’s too late. I can’t stop now. I rip her panties and brush the delicate lace away.
Her clit peeks out, eager and ready. When I thumb it, her body jerks.
“Stop playing with me,” she orders.
“No.” I wet my thumb and reapply it to her greedy little button. Her whole body goes tense. I drag my thumb lower until I reach the dew of her sex. I dip two fingers inside. My mouth goes dry at that first touch. I’m filled with an insane thirst for her. This obsession is greater than anything I’ve ever felt before. I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean. She inhales swiftly. I dip into her well again. “If I could replicate this, I’d make billions.” But the thought of someone else tasting her enrages me. I curl my fingers and tighten my grip on her hip.“But this is mine. No one else gets to eat you.” I thrust my fingers higher into her tight cunt. “Do you hear me?”
A cry of pleasure bursts from her, and my hand is flooded with her cum.
“Stop talking,” she pants. “Just…take me.”
I don’t need to be asked twice. I strip off my jeans and enter her in a swift, hard motion. My hands hold her hips in place while I drive into her again and again. Ecstasy burns behind my eyes. Furious need wraps itself around my frame. I feel like one solid beam of steel piercing her softness, her sweetness, her lush body.
She is so slick and tight around me. My head wants to blow off. But she needs to come first. I drag her legs around me, lick my thumb again, and pinch her clit. “Come for me, Slater. Come for me now.”
She arches her back, digs her heels into the back of my legs, and screams as her orgasm overtakes her. I let my own release burst out of me, filling her up like I promised. If we hadn’t made a baby before, I know we would have this time.
Chapter Nine
SLATER
This bed is way too comfortable to be mine. I open my eyes to only find darkness, except for a sliver of light spilling out from the bathroom. I know it has to be nighttime. I sit up, glancing around. I don’t remember moving to Brooks’ bed. The last thing I recall is the killer orgasm he gave me that must have knocked me out.
I stand to head toward the bathroom, forgetting that I’m naked. I quickly rush in and shut the doors behind me. Not that Brooks hasn’t seen me naked, but that’s all been horizontal. Things are different when you’re vertical.
When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I don’t let myself do a double-take. I don’t need to to see that I'm a hot mess right now. Wait, maybe a cold mess. I use the bathroom before I steal a robe off the hook, putting it on. The thing engulfs me.
That is one of the things I enjoy about Brooks. I’m not a tiny girl; I’m curvy and tall. Two things most men aren’t into. With Brooks, however, I feel small and dainty.
Speaking of, where is Brooks? I step out of the bathroom. “How do I turn the light on?” The lights flicker on. I spin around, thinking Brooks turned them on, but he’s not standing in the doorway.
“Light off,” I say, and they flick off. Damn that’s cool. “Light on.” That is fancy and matches the rest of this place. I can barely get Siri to tell me the weather.
I don’t spot my clothes anywhere. They must still be in the living room. I make my way there, the lights flickering on at my feet as I go down the hallway. Still no Brooks, but I do see my clothes folded nicely on the coffee table. Along with my purse. All of my crap that had spilled out has been put back.
I’m so out of place here. I’m new money, and I don’t even mean big money. It’s enough so I no longer have to live paycheck to paycheck. My social media does well, but I do have old debt I’m paying off. I did two years of college to get an associate’s degree that I’ve never used, but that doesn’t mean you get to skip paying for it.
I spot a note on the table with Brooks’ phone number on it.
Went down to The Plate to check on things. I’ll bring dinner back. Text me when you wake, if I’m not back.
Your fiancé,
Brooks
The man is dead serious about this marriage thing. It doesn't help that I fall into bed with him anytime we're together. Which might be only twice, but it's becoming a pattern. The first time ison me; I'm blaming the second time on baby hormones. I know it's bullshit, but I'll be using that excuse while I can.
I shove the note in my bag because I do need his contact info. I’m not ghosting him again; I’m merely going home. Going to do my walk of shame. I need to get my thoughts together, and I can’t do that here.
Thankfully, I don’t need a fancy key to get the elevator to go down. When the doors open onto the bottom floor, three women in server uniforms for The Plate turn my way, their expressions filled with surprise.
