Page 27 of Heart of Stone
She pressed her finger against my mouth. “You’re still talking.”
“I was just?—”
She sighed. “Oh my god. Nothing. Not a word.”
I leaned my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. She pressed a long bandage over the cut. Having her so close was sending my body and pulse into overdrive. I hadn’t been with her since the night in the office, and I ached for her now. She was my one constant. She was the only thing that still always made sense, and having her warm body brush up against my arm as she cleaned the gash reminded me just what a fucking drug she was for me. There was nothing I craved more than Amy, and it had been a long, harsh stretch of withdrawals. But I’d blown it with her so often, she had no reason to give me what I wanted most, her silky, naked body in my arms.
She stood up and returned the first aid kit to the compartment. Then she walked back and stood in front of me with an admonishing look. I was sure I was going to get a lecture for disappearing and not calling. Instead, she unzipped her sweatshirt and pulled it off. She dropped it on the floor. She gazed down at me, her bottom lip looking just a bit angry, as she reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt. She lifted it up and off and dropped it to the floor.
The air that had been squeezed tight in my chest rolled out in a long shuddering breath. I gazed up at her as she reached back and unclasped her bra. It fell to the ground and the round, white breasts and rose colored nipples that I knew so well pointed at me. My cock was tight as granite as she unbuttoned her fly. I watched and swallowed hard with anticipation as she pushed her pants and panties to the ground. She stepped out of them.
I’d seen her naked so many times, but I couldn’t takemy eyes off of her. “I take it all back. You’d put angels to shame. Come here, my Street Corner Girl. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life.”
She straddled my lap, and I wrapped my arms around her.
“I just need to feel you in my arms. Baby, I?—”
She lifted my face. “Shh,” she whispered. Her lips pressed against mine. Then with quiet, deliberate movements she kissed my nose, the tender skin above the bandaged cut, my eyebrow and my forehead. She was in control, and I was fine with that tonight. I was bone weary, and my heart ached so badly for the girl sitting on my lap that I could feel the pain all the way down my arms and legs.
As I smoothed my hands over her skin, it warmed my fingers and sent my pulse racing. I had to hold back. Tired as I was, if I didn’t check myself, if I didn’t tamp down my almost explosive urge to take her, to pull her under me, naked and open, then I would ruin this whole thing. And I was fucking things up too much lately.
She bit her bottom lip as she reached down and worked open the buttons on my fly. Her small hand slid down my pants. I pulled in a breath as her long fingers wrapped around my cock. It strained against her grasp as she stroked along its hard length.
She hopped off long enough to shimmy my jeans down to my knees. She swung her long, sleek thigh over my lap. Her long lashes fluttered as she stared down at my chest, running her fingers along the edges of my tattoos and up over the scars on my shoulders, scars left behind by an angry, sharp belt buckle. Her hard nipples rubbed against my chest as she leaned forward and kissed the ridges of thescars.
“We’re not Hunter and Amy tonight.” Her warm, sweet breath caressed my skin as she spoke. “No history, no pain or heartache, no anger, just two people whose bodies were made for each other.” She rose up on her knees, reached between her legs and took hold of my cock. She slid down over it, her head rolling back as if drunk from the feel of it. “Just two people made for each other,” she whispered as she lowered herself down.
She was slick and hot as my cock impaled her. Her arms wrapped around my head and she pulled my face against her. My tongue traced circles around her nipples as she pressed her perfect, round tits against my mouth. I gripped her ass as she moved up and down over me. We were one body connected at the core. It had always been like that with Amy. I’d always felt it with her. It was that strong, almost raw feeling that we belonged to each other that always scared the shit out of me.
“Oh, Hunter,” she moaned as she squeezed her thighs and tightened her pussy, milking my cock with each movement. She ground her clit against me as she writhed faster and harder on my lap. I met her hungry pussy with hard thrusts, filling her deeper each time. Her thin arms tightened around me, and she pulled my face against her naked breasts. “Yes! Fuck yes,” she cried out. A long string of erotic sounds followed, pinging off the walls of the pilot house.
Her skin was flushed pink as she caught her breath and smiled down at me. She began moving wildly, lifting up and plunging her hot sheath down over my stiff cock. The bench creaked and wobbled against the wall as ourmovements sped up. I met her wet pussy each time, impaling her with a force that made her squeak with pleasure. Then my soggy head cleared and my fingers dug into her hips as my cock exploded, releasing my hot seed inside of her. “Fuck yeah, baby. I needed you tonight,” I groaned. “I need you every night.”
Her body relaxed, and she dropped her face down to my shoulder and gazed out the side window. I smoothed my palm over her naked back and held her tightly against me.
“I thought something had happened to you.” Her voice sounded small in the empty pilot house. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I couldn’t survive that.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I was in a bad place and the poker game got started and I just shoved all the shit that was bothering me out of my head.”
She lifted her face and kissed me. “Don’t do it again, or Slade and I are going to kick your ass.”
“Yeah? You and what army?” I kissed her again.
SEVENTEEN
AMY
Ipulled the rake across the dry, empty yard, kicking up a respectable cloud of dust in my wake. There was no grass, only parched earth scarred by the weeds that had once covered it like a bristly green and brown rug. But even without a lawn, it looked surprisingly better. I’d already made arrangements for a landscaper to come and fix the sprinklers and plant grass seeds.
Hunter walked out onto his front porch, wearing a tight white t-shirt that seemed to be working overtime to contain the mass of muscles beneath it. Sometimes the man looked so ridiculously intimidating, it was a wonder that the crows and squirrels in his front yard didn’t all flee for safety. He picked up his toolbox from the porch and walked down the steps.
Nothing had been settled or untangled after the night in the pilot house. I still couldn’t reason my own actions when I’d walked up there and nearly jumped naked into his lap. I’d been so damn relieved to see him back safe that everything else, the anger, the hurt, had all but vanished. I’d missed him so much, and he looked so miserablesitting there with his empty bottle of whiskey, dark expression and open gash, all I could think of doing was something to make him feel better.
There had been plenty of selfish motive too. Seeing him sit there without his shirt, looking irresistibly hot as usual, my body had reacted instantly. If nothing else, my physical desire for Hunter Stone never wavered. In a way, it was a curse because it seemed the best way to protect myself from heartbreak was to say no to him. But I hadn’t found the self-discipline I needed to turn him away. For now, nothing had been resolved, but we were talking again. And I needed that. I needed him to still be a part of my life.
I watched him from beneath the wide brim of the straw hat I’d been wearing to keep the sun off my face. The weather had been unseasonably warm, but I loved it. It was always easier to coax myself outside into the yard when it wasn’t shrouded by a layer of cold fog.
“Where are you headed to with your box of tools, Mr. Handyman?”
