Page 115 of Better Hate than Never

She smiles, all bright teeth and deep dimples and firelit freckles. “Yes. Now.”

I reach for the back of my shirt collar instinctively, but as my hands did with hers, poised over her hair, her touch stops me. “Can I?” she asks.

Heat rushes through me as I stare up at her. “Yes.”

Stepping closer, Kate reaches for my shirt at the hem and lifts it up my chest, over my head. Her hands drift around my shoulders, down my arms. “You’re so... solid.”

I laugh quietly, then stand as she reaches for my buckle and undoes it, then unbuttons my jeans. “Solid?” I ask.

She nods. “You feel like... one time, I was in Australia, and these winds came out of nowhere, so violent, I swore they were going to rip me off the earth and launch me right into space. I panicked, wrapped myself around a tree that was just as thick as my arms could reach, so steady and solid, and I clung to it until the wind died. That’s... you.” She smiles up at me, her touch gently sifting through my hair. “My tree in the storm.”

My hands go to her hips, as I swallow against a lump in my throat.

“Now, stop making me sentimental.” She tugs at my jeans, and I help her, shoving them down, stepping out of them, kicking them away.

Her hands settle at my boxer briefs, drifting along the waistband. I let out a slow, steadying breath.

She peers up, looking worried. “Is this okay?”

“Very.” I cup a hand around her neck, massaging it, soothing her. Then she tugs my briefs down, kneeling as she goes. She stands, eyes averted before they snap up and find mine. A wine-red blush spills up her throat and floods her cheeks.

“Now what?” she whispers.

I smile, gliding my hands along her arms, savoring how beautiful she is—soft and warm andhere. “Now we lie down.”

Kate leaps onto the bed and lands like a starfish, making me laugh. I crawl onto the bed after her, arms caged over her as she smiles up at me, beautiful and a little nervous. “You can look at me,” I tell her. “Touch me. Wherever you want.”

Her eyes dance down my body, then widen as she looks at me, where I’m so hard, my cock is curved up against my belly.

I start to ease onto my side, but she stops me, holding me over her. Then she sets her hands on my chest, her touch smoothing across my muscles, tracing my nipples. “Christopher,” she whispers.

“Yes, Kate.” My voice is tight, my hands making fists with the blanket on either side of her. I have never felt so raw, so hungry, so desperate to touch and be touched.

She drifts her knuckles down my stomach, watching in fascination as the muscles jump beneath her touch. “You are very, very lovely,” she whispers.

“So are you,” I tell her, forcing myself to stay still, to let her learn me like I promised myself I would.

My breath comes rough and ragged as her fingertips trace theline of my hip, the muscles knitting my groin. Tentatively, she strokes a palm up my thigh, then higher, testing the weight of my cock along her palm, curling her fingers around it.

“Whenever we’ve been together,” she says, “you’ve known how to touch me.”

“You’ve told me how, too,” I tell her. “You’ve shown me.”

She nods, a furrow in her brow as she touches me so gently, experimenting with how I feel, how the skin moves over my length as she strokes it. “Can you show me how to touch you?” she asks quietly.

I reach past her for the nightstand and pull out lube. Then I open her palm and pour some in. She squeals quietly. “This feels delightful,” she says.

I snort a laugh. “It feels even more delightful when it’s being used on you.” Lying back, I take her hand, wrap it lower, at the base of my cock, then stroke up, rotating her wrist, working the lube around me inside her hand, then dragging it back down. Heat bursts through me. My toes curl into the blankets.

She watches me move her hand in fascination, then falters when I let go. “Why?” She peers up, anxious. “Why’d you stop?”

“You know what to do,” I tell her tightly, struggling to breathe normally as she eases closer, one leg draped over mine, and strokes me again.

My eyes want to shut. My heart wants to beat right out of my chest. Being touched like this has never felt so incredible.

“Is this okay?” she asks.

I nod quickly, cupping her neck, bringing her closer. “I like being kissed while you touch me, too.”

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