Page 19 of Sure Shot
Bess steps back to do exactly as I say, and I feel another rush of gratitude, followed immediately by a wave of white-hot desire as she lays herself out for me on the white duvet.
It’s like being handed a full platter of food after a year of near starvation. I don’t even know where to begin. I prowl the bed, lean down, and take one of her pert nipples into my mouth.
“Oh, Tank,” she moans, arching off the bed, threading her fingers into my hair.
The sound makes meache. I can’t even remember the last time I heard my name as a moan. I’m trembling now as I kiss my way across her chest, swirling my tongue around her other perfect breast, taking the pebbled tip against my tongue.
My cock is as stiff as a pipe, bobbing heavily against the bed as I lick and kiss and nibble my way down her body. I part her legs with shaking hands and then drop my mouth unceremoniously onto her pussy. She sobs my name again, and I’m drunk with the taste of her on my tongue, and the tug of her hands in my hair.
This is everything I forgot I needed. I bury my face between her thighs, losing myself in the clutch of her legs and the slide of my tongue against her slick heat until she’s shaking and sobbing my name.
She has no idea at all what this means to me. I haven’t felt desire like this in years. Haven’t beendesiredin years.
When I can’t stand it any longer, I hoist my hungry, desperate body over hers. I grip her hips, knowing that if I hesitate, we’ll both just think too much. I slide inside her tight heat, my jaw clenching against the sudden, unbearable heaven. We inhale sharply and in unison.
Propping myself on my elbows, I look down at Bess. She’s staring right back up at me as if she’s just woken from a dream, her breath fast and warm against my face. We both blink at each other as if we can’t quite believe our luck.
Being here again with Bess? Miraculous. I’m overwhelmed by all the intimate, familiar details of this moment. The texture of her hair against my skin is just the same. She still has freckles on her chest, and I want to kiss each one of them. She still has a strange, round scar on the inside of her arm.
That look on her face is the biggest miracle of all, though. She’s just as stunned as I am. We’re the two craziest, luckiest people in the world right now. And it makes me feel wild.
“Hold on tight,” I grunt like the caveman I’ve become. “Gonna be a rough ride.”
Breathing hard, eyes still locked on mine, Bess reaches up and grips my shoulders. And I finally let myself go. My hips draw back on their own volition, and I begin to move.
This is a moment that deserves to be savored. But there’s no way either one of us could manage to go slow. Within seconds I’m picking up the pace, until I’m thrusting like a stud horse—more power than finesse. Our mouths join and our teeth click and our tongues tangle. It’s rough and graceless, but I’ve never been more alive than I am right now.
The last nine years never happened. There’s only heat and Bess’s knees clamping around my eager hips. She tastes like red wine and sex and everything I ever wanted in my whole goddamn life.
She’s on the same page, straining against me, boobs bouncing, hips lifting to meet mine stroke for stroke. She takes a deep, hungry breath and then gives me exactly what I need—a high, keening moan, followed by the telltale clench of her pussy around my rock-hard cock.
That’s what finishes me—the utter joy of making Bess come. My balls tighten, and I experience a bright, energetic wave of jubilation as I pour myself into her quaking body. Once. Twice. Hell, I need one last hard thrust to wring myself out. And then I collapse like a sweaty dead man, sliding halfway off her body and onto the bed.
“Holy shit,” I gasp. I let out an exhausted chuckle.
“Holy shit,” she echoes, her chest rising and falling like she’s just run the hundred-meter dash.
My brain is full of static. I smile as I close my eyes and stroke Bess’s skin, enjoying the rhythm of her heart beneath my palm.
“Tank,” Bess whispers before I’m ready to talk.
“Hmm?”
“Is this a terrible time to say that I was sorry to hear about your divorce?”
A bark of laughter escapes me. “It’s as good a time as any.” I try to slow down my breathing. I roll my head and glance at her pink-cheeked face. “You’re not feeling guilty right now, right? If you are, don’t.”
“Okay,” she says, sounding unsure.
“Really, don’t,” I repeat. “You have no idea how badly I needed that just now.” I raise my head to look at her. The room is lit only by the city lights outside, but it’s enough to see the uncertainty in her eyes.
“I would never want to make your life more complicated,” she says softly.
“You couldn’t possibly,” I insist. She doesn’t know the magnitude of the gift she just gave me. I haven’t been to bed with a woman who didn’t resent me inyears. I’d forgotten how it even felt to use my body for pleasure and nothing more. But I can’t explain all that to her. I won’t ruin the bright, shiny moment we just had. “Please don’t make me talk about my divorce right now.”
“Okay,” she says, smiling. “Sorry.”
I shake my head before settling it on the pillow again, willing to forgive her anything. “Can I ask you a question?”
