Page 46 of Highest Bid

He plunged into her, jerking her wide awake at the hot, pulsing fullness, the friction that was far too real to be a dream. Her senses instantly buzzed with raw lust, her pussy flooding with wet heat, as his big hands held onto her hips and he hammered in and out.

She mewled with pleasure, welcoming his savage, relentless strokes, needing the primal intensity of it so that her mind shut down to everything but the thrill of the moment.

Ecstasy clouded her body seconds before it infiltrated her brain.

She cried out at the overwhelming pleasure, her climax like a bird freed from its cage, soaring into the endless blue of the sky. Her inner muscles clenched and released, and Galan’s grip tightened almost painfully as he bellowed out her name, his seed pulsing inside her.

This time, Galan didn’t roll onto his side. Instead he stayed connected to her as he spread his weight on his forearms on either side of her head. She twisted a little more to the side, and he took advantage and covered her mouth, kissing her slowly, luxuriously, before he murmured, “That more than made up for my disappointment when I discovered you weren’t waiting in my bedroom.”

Her digital alarm clock clicked over to three a.m. and gave off enough light to see the glitter of his eyes. She reached back, and ran a hand over his side, loving the flex and shift of his muscles, the heat of his sweat-dampened skin. “I didn’t feel compelled to stay there knowing you didn’t trust me with the truth.”

“I do trust you,” he refuted quietly.

“But?”

“But I made a vow to someone, and I can’t break that. Not for anyone.”

“I see.” Except she didn’t see, not at all. If he loved her, wouldn’t he share all his secrets with her? Just like she’d shared hers with him.

“You’re having doubts about us...about me.” Balancing on one forearm, Galan traced over her miniscule nightwear, his big hand then lingering on her buttocks, his cock thickening again inside her. “And yet you were expecting me,” he said throatily.

She bit into her bottom lip. Despite those same doubts, his touch stirred up another bout of wanton need. Maybe she had been expecting him. The lingerie wasn’t something she’d wear otherwise. In fact, a fuddy-duddy oversized T-shirt was her favorite thing to sleep in.

You gave him your key. At the back of your mind, you knew he’d show up.

“All I knew for certain was that you left me because of a family emergency. I wasn’t entirely sure about anything else.” He carefully disconnected and lay on his back beside her, and she just barely withheld a moan of discontentment at the loss. Instead she turned on her side to face his shadowed silhouette and added, “Just tell me the emergency wasn’t anything to do with another...love interest.”

A dark chuckle slipped from his mouth even as he snaked an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her scalp. “If you don’t believe anything else, at least believe you’re the only woman I want in my bed,” he said softly.

She sighed, then snuggled closer to him as her doubts drifted away like smoke in a sea breeze. “You’re the only man I want in my bed,” she said drowsily, her eyes fluttering closed.

But sleep hadn’t yet dragged her under when he murmured, “And that’s the way it’s going to stay, firecracker, if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

Chapter Seventeen

Galan nodded thanks to the new waitress who delivered his light beer to him with fluttering lashes and a contradictory shy smile. He didn’t experience even a twinge of lust for the redhead who displayed her DD assets in a crimson lace bustier and a sheer over-gown.

His one temptation was a floor above him, overseeing her first-ever wedding reception, and doing a fine job, too. He took a big swallow of the beer. Who’d have thought he’d miss Layla in her black T-shirt and Doc Martens, miss having her deliver his drink with her usual sassy aplomb.

He smiled. Layla had challenged and intrigued him from the very start; he’d just been too arrogant and pigheaded to acknowledge they made a perfect team. His smile widened. But now that he had her...he’d do everything in his power to never let her go.

Aiden appeared from out of the crowd of dancing and drinking partygoers. Mock-punching Galan on the shoulder, he shouted above the band, “Looking smug there, Gal.”

Galan grinned. “And jealousy’s a bitch, little brother.”

Aiden threw his head back, his laugh ringing out even above the thumping bass and drums. He pushed his hand into his pocket and held up a wad of money. “I was banking on you looking exactly like you are right now.”

Galan’s grin widened. “Well played.” Few people lost against Liam in a bet. Clearly, Aiden had recognized the very thing Galan had refused to acknowledge. His love for Layla.

Aiden nodded. “I could get used to beating Liam at his own game.” The band finished their song to wild applause. As the singer explained a little about the next song’s background, Aiden added in an undertone, “We’re both beyond happy to finally see you alive again. Layla is good for you.”

Something in Galan’s chest squeezed tight. Aiden was right. Galan had been nineteen when their parents had died, too young to lose a mom and dad, and way too young to console his younger brothers. Perhaps that was why the night their parents had died, a piece of Galan had died too...until the night he’d become as one with Layla. Now she was his light, his hope, and his dream for the future. “Thanks, Aiden.”

“Hey, don’t thank me.” He took on a cocky stance. “Actually, do thank me. I’m the one who concocted the auction idea with Layla, and encouraged her into doing the very thing guaranteed to get your attention.”

“You couldn’t have talked her going on a dinner date with me, something more normal and mundane?”

Aiden smirked. “And where’s the fun in that? Besides, she wanted you to really notice her for once, and she achieved that goal.”

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