Page 63 of Tear Me to Pieces
Probably love him.
The kiss is sweet and soft and careful. The way he’s always been with me. But I don’t feel sweet or soft or careful right now. I feel cleansed. Purged. Free of the ties I allowed to restrain me.
And ready to take off running.
I thought I lacked direction, but I think Simon’s right. I’ve known where to go. What I wanted. I just had to be sure I was finished with where I’d been. That I’d faced it. Learned from it. It might not be completely behind me, but it’s no longer breathing down my neck.
I loop both arms around Simon’s neck, pulling him closer. The kiss between us turns on a dime. Like he can feel the change in me.
It wouldn’t surprise me if he did. I’ve spent months watching Simon. Cataloging everything about him. And it seems like he’s been doing the same. Waiting for the day I might want all the things he’s been ready to give.
And that day has finally come.
Pulling back, I manage to get my lips off his for just a second. “I want all of you.” I grab at his shirt, shoving it up his chest. “Now.”
22
SIMON
I really wishthe couch I ordered for Myra’s living room was here because her bed is way too fucking far away right now. But there’s no way in hell the first time I’m inside her is going to be on a countertop or a floor, and those are the only two options down here, so that means we’ve gotta change locations.
I lean forward, bending enough I can grip the cheeks of her ass. “Hold on tight.” It’s all the warning I give before picking Myra up, bringing her legs around my waist as I stomp through the house. Past the family room I’ve almost finished. Past the front room she still hasn’t decided a purpose for. Past the front porch that now has a light bulb illuminating the space and a camera doorbell to identify anyone who might come knocking.
All things I’ve done. Ways I’ve worked to make Myra’s life better in case I had to leave her on her own again. Had to walk away because she wasn’t ready for this.
For me.
Myra’s legs cinch tight at my waist as I start up the stairs, struggling to keep moving as her lips move over the side of myneck. I don’t know that anyone has ever kissed me there, and holy hell is it a sensitive spot.
Almost as sensitive as the damn nipple she seems to be obsessed with.
Stumbling into her bedroom, I fumble around as I kick off my boots, glad I grabbed the pull-on pair instead of the ones with laces.
Myra’s got her hands in my hair and her teeth pinched on my earlobe when we tumble onto the bed. A tangle of flailing limbs and grabbing hands.
She wasn’t exaggerating when she said she was ready now, and Myra wastes no time peeling my T-shirt up and fighting it over my head.
The sweatpants and T-shirt she changed into when I sent her upstairs so I could deal with Butch are too big for her, making them easy to divest her of. In a few quick motions, Myra is naked beneath me.
It’s happened before. Many times over the past week, but I’ve never been naked with her. I’ve kept my dick on a tight leash, knowing how quickly things would spiral out of control the second my skin was on hers.
And I wasn’t wrong.
The second my pants and underwear are off, Myra’s small hands are grabbing at me, her long fingernails digging into my skin as she pulls me up her body. One leg hooks at my hip as her blue eyes fuse to mine. “Get inside me.”
There’s not a hint of fear in her gaze. Zero hesitation in her demand.
And it is a demand. One I obviously don’t follow quickly enough, because her hand snakes between us, soft palm gripping my length and positioning it so all it will take to give her what she wants is a flex of my hips.
And that’s what I want to do. More than anything. To sink into her warm, wet, willing body and lose myself in the pleasure of making her mine.
I can’t. Not this time.
Straightening away, I fight her hold as she tries to pull me back down. When it doesn’t work, Myra wiggles around, attempting to do work her way over me. To accomplish what I haven’t.
Yet.
“Patience, My.” I hook my hands behind her knees and open her legs wide. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
