Page 45 of Hush Money
“I’d do anything for you, Keaton,” she whispers. “I’m sorry it took me so long. But I’m here. And if you’ll have me, I’m not leaving you.”
Something about this moment, the way I have turned to putty in her hands, how she has me completely naked—in more ways than one—makes those words hit me like a punch to the gut.
“If I’ll have you?”I ask her. “What on Earth would make you think that was up for debate?”
She clears her throat, her eyes falling down to the water.
“I don’t know what… I don’t know what kind of future you want. Or if…the kid thing?—”
“You, Evie.Youare the future I want. Full stop.”
Her lip quivers as her big green eyes slowly lift back to mine. I stare up at her through narrowed eyes, and I feel a thickness in my chest, crawling up my throat.
I grab her hand and pull it to my lips, closing my eyes and letting myself sit in it all for a moment. I finally open them, and I see that her eyes have tears in them.
“Don’t you cry, Evie Dawson,” I whisper. “Not when I’m about to.”
She lets out a strangled giggle as her voice cracks.
“You don’t cry,” she says. I let a sad smile show, but our eyes meet again.
“I cry, baby,” I tell her, reaching my other hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “I cry over you.”
Her eyes widen like saucers, and I regret saying it. I wasn’t intending to make her feel bad. I just need her to know how much she means to me. What she does to me. What she has always done to me.
I stroke her cheek.
“I need you to stop apologizing to me, Evie,” I tell her. “I mean it. You didn’t owe me anything then. You don’t owe me anything now. You were just a twenty-one-year-old kid making the best decision at the time with the tools you had. No one can fault you for that. It didn’t matter if it took one year, eleven years, or if it took thirty more. Shit, it didn’t matter if I died before I got to have you, Eve. I was always going to be yours.”
She presses up onto her knees and leans over the tub, pressing her lips to mine for a long, hard kiss. I wrap my arms around her, waiting for her to break it off. But she doesn’t. Instead, she leans farther over the tub, the fabric of her shirt dipping into the water as she kisses me harder, devouring me. I rub my wet hands up her back, clutching onto her just as tightly. She lets out the softest moan when I bite down gently on her lip.
We finally come apart, and I pull her in even closer, the fabric of her soaked shirt now pierced by hard nipples. I bend down, sucking one through the pink fabric, and she moans again. Then I massage the other before reaching for the hem of her shirt and pulling it up over her head, dropping it in a heavy mound on the tile.
She stands, and I reach up to unzip her jeans and tug them down, along with the red lace panties underneath them. God, I want to fucking devour her.
I wrap my hands around her waist, tugging her back so her thighs are touching the side of the tub. Then I scoot over so my mouth is just inches from her pussy. I slide a finger through her folds, then I flick my eyes up to hers, big, and round, and pleading.
“You’re soaked, baby,” I whisper, sliding the finger into my mouth. I salivate at her flavor. She moans. “Is this for me?”
She nods wildly, and then I reach around and grab a hold of her ass with both hands.
“Then let me have it,” I say just as I dive in. I lick and suck her clit, letting my tongue glide through her folds, my mouth suctioning against her. She writhes beneath me, and I feel her fingernails digging into my shoulders. She hums and moans with pleasure, one hand weaving through my hair and squeezing a fistful of it.
“I need you, Keat,” she whispers. “Please.”
I hold her to me harder, eating her until her juices are running through my beard, when I feel her legs start to vibrate.
“Please, Keat, I—” she starts, but before she can finish her thought—or her orgasm—I tug her into the tub with me so she’s straddling me. I fist my cock and give it a few pumps, then I guide her hips over top of it. Her eyes alight with this need that sets me over the edge, and then she slides down, taking me inch by inch while I lean back against the fancy tub pillow.
She bounces up and down on my dick, the water sloshing all around us, soaking my bathroom floor. But I couldn’t give two fucks. I press my fingertips into her hips while she goes, her tits bouncing up and down as she drops her head back. I run one hand up her stomach, pressing it between her breasts, holding her steady so she keeps hitting the spot she needs.
She moans and screams my name, one hand slapping down on the cool ceramic, the other pressing down on my chest. She rocks back and forth, and I give my hips a slight lift.
“That’s it, baby,” I growl. “Just hold it steady for me. I’ll get you there.”
She lets out a low moan, dropping her head back. Her long red locks spill into the water as I fuck her, and I’m not letting up. I feel her thighs tighten around me, and when I know she’s close, I slide my hand down. I press gently against the bottom of her stomach and add a little bit of pressure to her clit until I feel her whole body lock up. I have my release, spilling myself into her just as she collapses onto me. We sit like this for a few moments, her forehead against my chest, my hands running up and down her sides gently as we both come down. Finally, we have enough energy to get out of the tub and into the shower, and it’s my turn to wash her.
We get out, dry off, but elect to stay naked, getting into my bed and curling up into each other. I love the way she smells. Her hair, her skin. Everything about her pulls me in, and I am so sick of fighting it. I just want to hold her like this until the end of fucking time.
