Love and Lingerie (Rockland Falls Book 2)

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Love and Lingerie (Rockland Falls Book 2) Page 15

by Lacey Black


  “No one hates Tammy Wynette.” His voice is deep and gruff with exhaustion.

  “Well, when you have to listen to the same song on repeat for four hours, you might change your tune.”

  “I thought after five minutes you’d be beating down my door.”

  I exhale. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think it was you for a while. Not till Free showed up. She’s the one who walked over and unplugged the external speakers.”

  Latham snorts a laugh. “Sorry, not sorry. You deserved it.”

  “Payback’s a bitch, Latham Douglas,” I whisper, as I wrap my arm around his bare chest and drift off to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Latham

  I sneak back into my apartment, using the back entrance from the alley so I don’t have to deal with my dad, and set the bags down on the counter. Though I’m anxious to get back in bed with Sleeping Beauty, I head to the bathroom to hit the head. Just as I’m starting to zip up, I hear a thump in my room. I pause for a second and listen, not hearing another noise. Maybe I just imagined it…

  Washing my hands, I hear the door smacking the wall across the way. I barely have time to dry the water from my hands. As I open the door, I encounter Harper’s back, making a break for the front door.

  “Going somewhere?” I ask, leaning my hip against the doorway and watching the way her luscious backside moves in her black pants.

  She startles, whipping around and facing me. “Oh, I thought you left.”

  “Which is what you were doing, apparently,” I state, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her. My cock is already hard and ready for round two.

  “I have to go back to work,” she states, crossing her arms over her chest. My mouth starts to water.

  “You were sneaking out.”

  “Was not!”

  “Were too. You were slipping away again, but this time, I wasn’t sleeping.” Her eyes widen in recollection. Direct hit.

  “You were the one to leave first,” she sputters, stammering for a rebuttal. She hates being wrong or called out. My little pistol has to be right, all the time.

  “I went to get dinner,” I answer, grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head.

  Her eyes instantly drop to my bare chest. “What are you doing?” she whispers.

  “I’m going to show you exactly why you don’t sneak out of someone’s house.” I shove my shorts down to my ankles and kick off my tennis shoes. Her eyes follow my every move, especially when I push my boxer briefs toward the floor. “Turn around.” Her eyes are wide and her jaw drops, but she doesn’t hesitate. Harper slowly turns around at my command.

  I take in the sight of her ass before grabbing the hem of her shirt and gently pulling it over her head. It’s dry, which tells me she threw it in the dryer for a few minutes before getting dressed. Tossing it on the floor beside me, I realize it looks just as good on the floor the second time as it did the first. Reaching around, I unbutton her work pants and give them a little push as well. “Where are your panties, Sweetheart?” I whisper in her ear, making her entire body shiver.

  “I…I don’t know. I didn’t see them when I was getting ready.” I can hear the excitement, the anticipation in her voice.

  “So there’s a red lace thong in this apartment somewhere? Do you have any idea how hot that is?” She shrugs her response as I unclasp her bra. My hands are slow and deliberate as I slide them down her arms, removing the last scrap of material from her body.

  When I step forward, pressing my hard, hot body against hers, I feel goose bumps pepper her soft skin. She shifts her ass, rubbing it against my swollen cock, short-circuiting my brain (the big one, not the small one making all my current decisions). I run my nose against her shoulder and up her neck, inhaling the scent of jasmine and vanilla as I go. She smells so fucking good.

  “I’m going to fuck you. Do I need to suit up?” I murmur, running my tongue against the pulse point in her neck.

  “What?” she gasps, arching into my body.

  “Condom, Harper. Do I need a condom?”

  “No. Just do it.”

  “It?” I ask with a whisper, running both of my hands down her arms.

  “Me, jackass. Just fuck me already,” she growls, wiggling her ass against my cock once more.

  “My pleasure,” I agree as I align myself with her wet pussy. I’m fully seated in one thrust, her tightness wrapping around me and refusing to let go.

  This. This right here. This is the best fucking feeling ever. Her body wrapped around me like a glove, so fucking hot and wet I practically lose my mind with desire. My movements are precise and hard, a reminder of how good we are together and why you don’t sneak out of my bed while I’m not there. “If you would have left, you would be missing out on this epic orgasm, Sweetheart,” I remind just before thrusting hard into her body. Her palms are flat against the wall as she braces for impact.

  “Awfully cocky, aren’t we?”

  “It’s more of a promise,” I tell her. “You do want to come, don’t you? Or should I just stop now?” I ask, slowly retreating from her body.

  “No! Don’t stop,” she hollers, pushing back against me and taking me all the way in once more. “Just…don’t stop.” Her words are a gasp, a plea.

  “Never.” And I don’t. I thrust my hips and dip my legs, hitting exactly where she wants. She’s purring against the wall, grinding back against me. I can tell the moment she starts to come. Her body grips my cock and my name falls from her sweet lips. It sends me barreling into my own abyss of pleasure as my release slams into my spine and pulses through my body. I don’t even register what I’m saying, but I know words are spilling from my lips. For all I know, I’m proposing marriage. I don’t care. Just as long as I get this, her, for the rest of my life.

  Harper sags against the wall, my body enveloping her as I lean forward and kiss her neck. I could seriously kiss her neck all day, every day. “And that, Sweetheart, is why you don’t sneak out in the middle of the night.”

  She snorts. “It’s almost six in the evening, Latham. Not the middle of the night.” She pauses and stills. “Shit! I have to close up the store.”

  “Free already did,” I tell her, kissing down her upper spine.

  “When did you talk to her?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder.

  “I stopped in after I grabbed the sandwiches. It was just after five, so I wanted to make sure she was all right.”

  Harper glances over her shoulder. “What did you tell her?”

  “That you were currently napping, but would check in with her later.”

  She groans and closes her eyes. “Great, she knows we had sex.”

  “That’s a definite possibility. She wouldn’t stop smiling and commenting about post-sex naptime.”

  “Uhhhhh,” she groans, her internal muscles tightening around my growing erection.

  “Don’t moan like that, Sweetheart, or you’ll find yourself flat on your back on the hardwood floor.”

  I pull out just a few inches and slowly slide back in. “I have to go,” she gasps, pushing back against me once more.

  Reaching around, I gently tug on her nipple ring, loving the way her nipple pebbles against my touch. “You’re free to go anytime you want,” I remind her, making my strokes a little more precise.

  She looks back over her shoulder one more time, leaning forward until her ass is pressed firmly against my waist. I grip her hips and drive in hard, evoking another long moan of pleasure. “Well, maybe after just one more…”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Harper

  “There’s my baby,” I coo as I enter my house, Snuggles happily wagging her stubby little tail, tongue hanging down her chin. She jumps on her hind legs, anxious to receive her first rubdown of the evening.

  “If it isn’t the ugliest mutt in town,” Latham says behind me, entering my house and essentially stealing my dog’s attention. Snuggles takes one look at our visitor and jumps with excitement. She pr
actically pees down her leg as he takes a knee and pets her.

  “Deserter,” I mumble, tossing my keys and purse on the table. “You see I’m home, I’m fine. You can leave.”

  “No can do, Sweetheart. I bought sandwiches, remember?”

  “That was an hour ago,” I remind him, heading into the kitchen.

  Snuggles’ nails clip on the hardwood floor, the light jingle of her tags filling the small kitchen. I open the fridge and find a pound of hamburger and some of Mom’s homemade egg noodles. Digging the rest of the ingredients out of the cupboard, I get to work on one of my favorite easy peasy comfort dishes.

  I toss the hamburger in the skillet to brown and place a pot of water beside it to boil. “Something I can help with?” he asks behind me. When I glance back, he’s leaning casually against the doorjamb, tight black T-shirt molded to his impressive upper body. It’s almost as magnificent as the bottom half.

  “I don’t think so. It’ll just take about twenty minutes to mix this all together.”

  He doesn’t say a word, but comes over and has a seat at the small bar for two. I barely even know he’s there while I brown the hamburger and put the noodles in the boiling water. Once both are done, I drain the water and then add the meat to the pot. A large can of cream of mushroom soup, some milk, Velveeta cheese, and salt and pepper are thrown in too, and I start to stir it together until it’s rich and creamy. When I’m satisfied with the results, I grab two plates from the cabinet and dish up dinner.

  Latham glances down at the contents before grabbing the fork beside the plate. He takes a hearty forkful and shovels it into his mouth. That wonderful, yet infuriating mouth that brought me so much pleasure earlier, yet smarts off and makes me angrier than a bull in a cage. “This is delicious,” he says as I take a small bite.

  “Thanks.”

  “Is this one of your mom’s recipes?”

  “Nope, actually, it’s one of mine.”

  He glances over and raises and eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, when I first moved in by myself, I would experiment with different ingredients. I learned a lot at home with Mom, but it’s hard to make huge homemade meals when you’re cooking for one. So, I started trying new things and quickly learned you could put cream of mushroom soup in just about anything and make it taste fantastic,” I say with a shrug. “This is one of the very first things I created, though I’m sure it’s not completely original, but it’s still one of my favorites.” He doesn’t answer, which has me glancing his way. “What?”

  “You’re amazing.” His eyes are locked on mine, and even though I look for it, I don’t find a single hint of humor or mocking.

  I don’t say anything, just dig back in to my meal. It doesn’t take long before our plates are clean (he had seconds). When I try to stand up, he sets his hand on my arm. “Let me.”

  I keep my mouth shut, but stay seated as Latham picks up our plates and rinses them off. He maneuvers around my kitchen effortlessly, and a bit too comfortably for my liking. He grabs the pot and brings it to the counter, glancing my way when he gets there. I point to the cabinet to the right, where he pulls out a plastic container and scoops the rest of the dinner inside. Then, without being prompted, he places all of the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. When his task is completed, he crosses his arms and leans against the counter the way he did the other night.

  “Can I ask you something?” His eyes are on mine and I can feel the seriousness in his question.

  “Sure.”

  “Why’d you leave?”

  “You weren’t there. I needed to get back to work.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

  I open my mouth, but close it quickly. I take a second to collect my thoughts before I speak. Glancing down, I run my hand over the slightly raised texture on my countertop. “I got scared.”

  “Of me?”

  I quickly look back up, my eyes connecting with his brown ones. “No, never. I was scared of how…comfortable I felt.”

  “I wasn’t exactly expecting you to be gone when I woke up in the morning.”

  “It was a little hard to get home early in the morning without a car and wearing a prom dress.”

  Latham’s smile is small. “How’d you get home?”

  “I called Jensen. He had his learner’s permit and hopped in Mom’s car before she woke up. He didn’t ask one question, even though I know he wanted to. I’m sure he knew I was with you, considering, you know.”

  “Considering I was your last minute prom date?”

  I feel my face start to blush. “Yeah, considering that. I still can’t believe Jake Rodgers backed out on me. Who does that one day before prom?”

  “He was the biggest douche in school. Well, besides Joey,” he quips, smirking those perfect lips my way.

  “That he was. Especially when he told half the basketball team he was only taking me to sleep with me after. When I confronted him, he tried to deny it, but it was written all over his face. Then, the next day, he dumped me, saying I was a stick in the mud. Because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

  “Little did he know…”

  I look up, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Is that why you took me? To sleep with me?”

  “That never even crossed my mind.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “Because you wanted to go. Because your date dropped you the day before the dance. Because I didn’t have a date, nor plans to go, but it felt like the right thing to do. And because you were the most beautiful girl in school, and I couldn’t believe you agreed to let me take you, even after I told the school you had genital warts.”

  “That was you?” I bellow, not expecting that horrible twist.

  Latham laughs. “You didn’t know? Shit, Harper, that had my name written all over it.”

  “I hate you,” I mumble.

  “So you’ve said, many times.”

  We’re both staring, wondering what the other is thinking. “Thank you for taking me. And for defending me when Jake tried to start shit at the dance.” He doesn’t reply, just nods his head. “And… I’m sorry about after. About leaving without saying a word. That was rude of me, and I apologize.”

  His brown eyes are intense, but don’t waver from mine. “I just figured it was because I sucked in bed.” He smiles afterward, but I can tell he’s serious.

  I don’t stop the bark of laughter. “Sucked? I recall the only sucking being done was with my mouth,” I quip, flashing a quick grin.

  Now, he laughs. “Yeah, that was a pleasant treat. The whole damn thing was pretty fucking spectacular. At least it was for me. You know, being my first time and all.”

  I smile. “I still don’t believe that.”

  “True story, Sweetheart. First time touching a boob.”

  Now, I’m laughing. “You did have a look on your face – part amazement, part fear.”

  He joins in the laughter. “I didn’t want to mess up. And I didn’t want to explode before I even got between your legs. That was my biggest fear.”

  My neck starts to heat and the blush spreads up my face. “Well, you didn’t have anything to worry about, did you?”

  His eyes are shining with mirth. “I guess not.”

  “I always thought guys weren’t supposed to last five seconds their first time.”

  “I guess I’m the exception,” he replies with a smirk. “That, or I just had so much practice emptying the pipes in the shower that I built up a little teenage stamina.”

  I’m caught between trying to roll my eyes and laugh. “I don’t know about that. Even though you weren’t bad then, your moves have definitely improved,” I applaud, throwing him a wink and making him bark out a laugh.

  We continue to watch each other for a long moment that turns into a solid minute. So many things unspoken pass between us, things that happened when we were kids, yet define us as adults. He’s not that bad of a guy, actually. Even though I want to hurt him half
the time, I want to enjoy him too. I’m torn, which is why I keep my ass in the seat instead of walking around the counter and kissing that smile right off his face.

  “I should go,” he says, clapping his hands together.

  Hopping off the stool, I follow him to the front door. See, this is when the awkwardness sets in. I mean, am I supposed to hug him goodbye? High five? Bro back slap?

  The decision is taken out of my hands when he stops at the door and pulls me into his arms. I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing (even though I already know what he’s doing), when his lips press to my own. It doesn’t hold any of the urgency his earlier kiss held, but it’s mind-spinning just the same. His lips urge mine open, and he dips his tongue inside. It’s sweet and sensual, especially when his hands come up and cup my face. I’m ready to wrap my legs around his waist and climb him like a tree, but I don’t have the opportunity.

  Latham places a chaste kiss on my lips and backs away. “Thank you for dinner,” he whispers, still cupping my face.

  “You’re welcome.”

  He places one more kiss on my swollen lips. “Good night, Sweetheart. Lock up behind me.”

  “Hey, Latham?” I holler before he slips completely out the door. He turns and faces me. “I’m gonna need that thong back too.”

  His face breaks out in a wide, gorgeous smile. “Ain’t gonna happen.”

  And then he’s gone.

  * * *

  It’s Wednesday and I have yet to see Latham since he left my house Monday night. I even casually strolled by the hardware store yesterday morning, in hopes of spying him through the storefront window, and then spent the next hour chastising myself for being a stupid girl.

  I’m not a stupid girl.

  Not anymore.

  After closing up the store, I head to my office to grab my gym bag. Spin class starts at six, and since I missed Monday’s session (thanks to Latham and his sexcapades), I’m in desperate need of some physical fitness that doesn’t involve riding a dick like a bucking bronco. Though that was much more enjoyable.

  The drive over to the gym is short, and it only takes me a few minutes to change in the locker room. When I head out, I run into Rhenn coming out of one of the rooms.

 

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