Page 73 of The Fine Art of Faking It
“Davis I’m—” Eden couldn’t get the words out because he was plunging his fingers into her, his thumb dragging over her, stroking her.
She came in an instant, an orgasm so quick and fierce that her leg trembled against him. His cock ached to feel her hungry pulls from the inside.
“More?” he asked her.
She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. “God, yes. Please.”
He settled between her legs, his hungry tip brushing that sweet flesh.Home.
Shit.“I don’t have any protection,” he told her, kicking himself for failing his teenage boy pledge to always be prepared for sex.
Eden let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl. But she wasn’t shoving him off of her and storming out. “Vanity. Bathroom,” she panted.
“You do not stock condoms in your guest rooms.”
“Of course I do. Tampons and floss, too.”
He didn’t know why he was surprised. Eden was a professional at anticipating her guests’ needs. And he was literally dying to see if that talent continued in the bedroom. With a wave of regret that bordered on pain, Davis levered up and off of her.
“Hurry!” she called after him.
He hit the bathroom at a dead run and disgorged the contents of the small walnut vanity. He found the condoms under a sewing kit and next to a stain remover pen and extra rolls of toilet paper.
Davis was a little too enthusiastic to get back to the bed. He caught his knee on the open vanity door and pitched forward almost running headlong into the door.
“You okay?” Eden called.
He was too busy destroying the condom wrapper to answer her.
“Davis?”
She was halfway off the bed by the time he made it back to her. If she’d changed her mind, he was going to die from the worst case of blue balls doctors had ever seen.
“Are you okay?” he asked, a little breathlessly. His knee throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the similar sensation in his cock.
She was staring at him dazed and wide-eyed. He realized he was fisting the root of his shaft. There was no romance, no suave charm in his stance. He looked aggressive, desperate,demented. But Eden didn’t seem to mind.
She reached for him and snatched the condom from his hand. “Gimmie.” And with that, she was gripping his dick in the vice of one hand while she rolled the condom on with the other.
Yep. He was a dead man.
Davis dropped his head back and let out his breath in one long, slow exhale. The feel of her fingers, the vision of her eager and naked on her knees, both were seared into his brain. And if he didn’t start thinking about balance sheets and profits and losses, he was going to embarrass himself and disappoint the woman he’d wanted his entire adult life.
With the condom in place, Eden dropped her hands to her sides, and they eyed each other up. Naked, inches from touching. Every nerve in Davis’s body felt alive and ready to report pleasure back to his brain.
“I want you to be sure,” he said, the words coming out thick and heavy.
She nodded, still staring at his naked body.
“Say it, Eden.”
“I’m sure.” There was a weight to her quiet words. And Davis got it. They both knew this would change everything, but neither of them could predict just how. And as carefully as he usually considered consequences, nothing short of a “no” from Eden’s swollen lips would stop him. Not even an impending return to the feud they’d both fought since birth.
When he didn’t move fast enough for her, Eden took the lead, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him in to her. She was still on her knees at the edge of the bed, but now they were skin to skin. It was enough to send his system into overdrive.
“I don’t want to rush this,” he murmured, trailing kisses over the sharp edge of her jaw, nipping at her skin.
She raked a hand through his hair, pausing to give it a sharp tug. “Gates, this has been fifteen years in the making. I don’t think anyone could accuse us of rushing.”
