by Zoe York
His balls drew tighter against his body as she ground her pelvis hard against his hand and she tipped forward as her orgasm started, catching herself with her hands pressed to the bed on either side of his head. She held her breath, eyes wide open and shiny bright, as she started pulsing from the inside out. He kept thrusting, chasing his own orgasm as she gasped his name over and over again, and then he was there.
His eyes rolled back in his head and everything went blurry for a minute. He felt Liv settle on his chest, then shift to his side, and all he could do was mumble and pet her hair. When his legs unlocked and he’d managed to blink his eyes back to clear vision, he rolled over and pulled her tight against his body. He was never letting her go.
“You have to let go,” she laughed, as if she could read his mind, and he shook his head roughly.
“You stay here, I’ll get a washcloth.”
“Under the sink!” she called out, but he knew. He ran two of them under the hot water tap, then rung them out. He snagged a towel off the shelf in the bathroom as well.
Back in her bedroom, he stopped and stared for a minute. She was too beautiful for words, stretched out naked for him.
“Stop it, you’re being weird.” She smiled shyly and covered her eyes. “Turn out the light.”
He flipped the switch for the overhead light, but turned on the lamp immediately after. “I want to look at you all night long.”
She laughed. “That’s your prerogative, but I need to work tomorrow.”
“Call in sick.”
She shook her head, her eyes trained on his. “Can’t do it.” It was a challenge of sorts. Understand that my jobs matter just as much as yours do. He did.
“Fair enough, baby.” He climbed in next to her and nudged her legs open.
“Careful,” she breathed.
“Sensitive?” He touched one of the washcloths to the lips of her sex and she bit her lip and nodded. His dick throbbed like he could go again. Damn. “I’ll be gentle.” He cupped her with the warm cloth and leaned to kiss her mouth. He meant it to be sweet and delicate, but she parted her lips for him and he sank inside.
Kissing Liv was like being fed the best food in the world and only getting hungrier. Reward and temptation all rolled into one. She arched her back, pressing her big, gorgeous breasts into his chest. He flicked the washcloth over his shoulder and cupped one swollen peak. Her nipple stood proudly at attention, begging for a kiss of its own, and he closed his mouth over it. The firm nub teased his tongue and he sucked more of her flesh into his mouth. He wanted all of her, over and over again. Rolling her to her back, he loved her other breast, then back again, burying his face in the valley between them before kissing his way south.
Even as she lifted her hips toward his mouth, she was begging him to be gentle. He spread her thighs and blew a breath across her swollen cleft. He could be a fucking feather if that’s what she needed. He kissed the softness at the top of one thigh, then the other, savouring the moment before he actually tasted her. The scent of her sweet musk worked its way into his brain and all thinking ceased.
— —
Rafe’s tongue parting her folds was the best damn feeling in the entire world. She felt herself open for him and then he was licking around her clit in delicate circles and all of a sudden she didn’t care about being sore. She pressed her hands into his hair, urging him to suck on her, to eat her up until she exploded from the awesomeness of it all.
“Ooooh, oh, oh, oh,” she panted, getting louder with each breathy exclamation. “Rafe, oh god, Rafe. Jesus, I love you. Oh, yes, right there. Right—“ Her words devolved into guttural noises then, embarrassingly loud, and for a minute she forgot that she’d just told him that she loved him in the middle of oral sex.
He didn’t miss it, though. He rode out her orgasm with his face pressed tight against her sex, then he kissed his way up her body and notched his impressively heavy cock against her soaking wet pussy. “Is this okay?” he whispered against her neck.
She nodded wordlessly and he eased inside, seating himself deep in her pelvis. He was big and hard and he filled her so completely, stretching her body in a glorious way she’d almost forgotten about. She’d remembered that sex was good and she missed it, but the details had gotten foggy—that thin line between pleasure and pain that is only understood in the moment. When raw, swollen skin wants to be pressed to the limit again.
He cupped her neck with one hand and used the other to lift her boneless body up underneath him as he surged into her again and again, slowly and deliberately. Marking her. “You love me,” he whispered, and she nodded again. “Say it.”
She shook her head. If she said it, she’d start crying.
“Say it, baby. Tell me you love me when my face isn’t buried in your pussy.” His cock flexed deep inside her and she groaned. He kept it up, a stream of filthy words that made her slippery with want, until she grabbed his face and stilled his lips with a press of her finger.
“Enough.” She licked her lips as he pressed into her and onto her and somehow, right through her. “I love you, Rafe.”
He stared at her for a minute, his eyes dark, his lips swollen and wet, and then he kissed her, an all-consuming declaration that she was his, no more hedging around it. She opened her mouth like she’d opened her heart, consequences be damned, and he poured himself into her in every possible way, carrying her with him.
— SIXTEEN —
FOR the first time in two years, Olivia woke up to smells and sounds of someone in her kitchen. She cracked an eyelid. It was still dark out. Rafe was whistling.
Oh god. This was what pure happiness felt like. She closed her eyes and let herself drift back into quasi-sleep as memories from the night before warmed her from the inside out. They’d been insatiable, both of them. When she tried to picture it, all she saw was a tumble of limbs, sliding back and forth, skin-on-skin. Two people completely entwined, rolling from one position to the next, hungry for so much more.
“You’re blushing,” His voice in the doorway made her smile.
“You can’t know that, it’s dark.” She peeked through her eye lashes to confirm that was still the case.
“You blushed for most of the night, every time your leg touched my hard-on. It’s an easy bet you’re pink all over now that you’re awake and remembering what we did.”
She laughed, then sobered up. “You had a hard-on all night long?” And did they have time to do something about it before she went to work?
He came closer and she smelled the coffee as he set two mugs on the side table. “Want to take a shower with me and get reacquainted with him?”
She tossed off the blankets. Heck ya.
He washed her hair, his erection bobbing against her back the whole time, but when she reached for him, he shook his head. He pressed her against the tile wall and kissed her instead, a proper good morning kiss like the day before at the diner. “I was kidding about that.”
“I wasn’t,” she said, wrapping her hand around his shaft. “I didn’t get to taste you last night.”
She dropped to her knees and kissed the very tip of him, then licked her lips, easing the way for the head to slide into her mouth. She fisted her hand right behind his foreskin, relishing the way he throbbed under her touch. As one, she moved her hand and her mouth down his shaft until her pinky finger hit the firm flat of his lower abdomen. He grunted and leaned forward, bracing himself against the wall as she cupped his balls with her other hand.
Power sizzled through her veins as she looked up at him. His eyes, half-hooded with desire, tracked her every movement. In and out, lick and suck. She ducked her head and concentrated on her task. It didn’t take long before his legs were shaking and his shaft swelled in her mouth. She swallowed hard, pulling him into her throat and he started swearing. One of his hands cupped the back of her head and she pulsed her tongue along the underside of his cock, urging him to spill himself in her mouth.
He hissed her name, a long, drawn o
ut warning she didn’t need. She knew she had him as his sac tightened in her hand. She stroked her fingertips right there, along the seam, and that did it. He thudded his hips against her face, his hand cushioning the thump of her head against the wall, and came hard right where she wanted him.
She slid between his legs and stood behind him, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back before leaving him leaning against the wall to recover. She dried off, went to the larger closet in the hall to find a Rafe-sized bath sheet, then the bedroom for the coffee he’d made her. A quick glance at the clock told her she still had an hour before work. Her husband was a freak of nature, waking up so early on his day off.
He was still leaning against the tile, water sluicing down his back, when she returned.
“Can I dry you off, mister?”
He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head at her. “Come any closer, woman, and you’re going to drain the very last of my reserves.”
She perched on the toilet seat and sipped her coffee while he slowly returned to full function.
“What do you have going on today?” He asked as he padded down the hall in search of his own cup. She followed.
“Diner first, but just a half-day today because I worked a full-day yesterday and the new girl is doing well. Did I tell you that Frank wants me to keep working there on Wednesdays until the filming actually begins? It’s okay with Greg, because I’m going to end up working evenings and weekends a bit, like next week’s community meeting…” She trailed off as she realized he was staring at her with a strange look on his face. Good, but strange. “What?”
“You’re telling me about your day. You love me, we’re both naked from the shower, and you’re telling me—“ He reached out and hauled her toward him. She just barely managed to perch her coffee mug on the side table again before he’d pulled her onto the bed. “This is good,” he said, kissing her forehead.
She pressed her hand to his chest. His heart thumped against her palm. No, she thought. This is great.
— —
It remained great for exactly one week.
Greg and Ashley arrived bright and early the following Thursday, a cold, clear day, and she met them at the Blue Heron Lane cottages. She didn’t have a shift at the diner until the following week, so she was in total movie-mode. She’d woken up when Rafe left for his shift at dark o’clock, and spent the next hour in front of her closet trying to decide what to wear. She’d already settled on dark jeans, a white t-shirt and a corduroy blazer for the community meeting that night, but she wanted that outfit to be fresh in the evening.
Every single pair of pants she owned ended up tossed on the bed before she settled on black pants and a red long-sleeve cashmere blend sweater she’d only worn once the previous Christmas when she’d gone to her sister’s. She set them aside and returned everything else to some semblance of normal before ducking into the bathroom to brush her hair. She stared at herself in the mirror. Maybe it was time to ditch the ponytail. She hated the randomness of her waves when she left it down, but she had enough time today that she could blow dry her hair straight. And then it would still look good for the meeting.
An hour later, she stopped at the diner and ordered herself a coffee to go. Frank made noises about her never looking so fancy when she worked for him, but his eyes promised he was still proud of her. She blew him a kiss and promised she’d be back later with her new boss, which only made him grumble even more, although the last bit was something about the man being a good tipper.
They had a tight itinerary, but Ashley kept them on track. The other woman was probably a few years younger than Olivia, but she seemed like a total professional.
“The trick is to remember that they’re helpless without you,” she whispered as Greg went through his spiel for the fourth time that morning, outlining the compensation offered to property owners and what temporary changes they might expect to see. Olivia couldn’t hold back a laugh, and had to hide it behind her hand when Greg glanced in their direction. Ashley rolled her eyes. “The next trick is to learn to laugh on the inside.”
By the time they arrived at the diner for an early dinner, Olivia’s head was swimming with details. She’d taken pages of notes, asked dozens of questions, and was super glad that Greg was going to do all the talking at the event that night. Ashley and Greg slid into the booth first, on opposite sides, while Olivia ducked into the kitchen to say hi to Lily Gill. On the way back to their table she grabbed the menus from Deena, who promised to be over in a minute with coffee.
“Do I look that tired?” she asked, pausing at the counter.
Deena smirked. “No, but rumour has it Rafe’s truck has been parked outside your place every night for near on two weeks now. I assume you’re not getting much sleep.”
“Oh my god, seriously?” Life in a small town still made her head spin sometimes. “Do people have nothing better to talk about?”
Deena shrugged. “Rafe is cute. Everyone is sad he’s off the market again.”
Olivia gave up. Even though she was blushing, she pointed a stern finger at the other waitress. “Hands off my man.”
That earned her a few chuckles from the people sitting at the counter. She puffed out her still flaming cheeks and finally made her way back to Ashley and Greg, who were deep in conversation. Their coats were piled on the bench beside Ashley, so she slid in next to Greg.
When Deena came by they all shoved their mugs greedily toward her carafe of coffee, and before she left they’d ordered as well. Olivia sighed and thunked her head back against the padded booth. Greg patted her hand on the table. “There, there, new girl.”
“I need a nap before the meeting. Will you fire me for saying that?”
Ashley laughed. “Wait until we have fifteen hour filming days.”
Olivia reached for her mug. “I need to stock up on energy drinks, clearly.”
Greg pointed at Ashley. “This one goes running every morning, it’s amazing.”
Maybe Ashley wasn’t younger than her—just healthier and fitter. “That’s awesome. I…walk. And pretend to jog. Once or twice a week.”
Greg laughed. “I only work out because I pay my personal trainer something akin to a mortgage payment every month.”
Ashley kicked him under the table. “That’s not true.”
He looked at her fondly and shook his head. “Only because of your good influence.”
Olivia looked at the bottom of her empty mug. “I need more coffee if I’m going to keep up with both of you. I’ll just go help myself.”
She stood up and turned toward the counter—and her husband.
Who looked pissed.
She frowned and walked over. “Hey, sweetie, I didn’t know you were here.” He was still in his uniform, which made sense given that his shift didn’t end for another two hours. “Is everything okay?”
“You think we can use the office?”
“What?”
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” His words were clipped even more than his usual cop voice.
She glanced back at Greg and Ashley. They were looking over the maps she’d made notes on over the course of the day. She nodded and followed him to the office.
“We haven’t done this in a while,” she joked, but it landed flat.
He paced back and forth for a minute.
“Rafe, what is going on?”
“Come here.” His tone wasn’t exactly inviting, but he was clearly trying. She went, reluctantly. He let out a deep sigh and pulled her in close. He was wound so tight, the tendons in his neck were hard under her hands. He wove his fingers into her hair, tugging hard enough to make her gasp. “Tonight’s a big deal for you.”
He said it like a statement, but it felt like a question. She searched his face for a clue but found nothing. “Yes.”
He shook his head and swore softly under his breath before lowering his mouth to kiss her. Soft and persistent, this was a kiss to remind her of something and that thought pissed her off. S
he pulled back even though she wanted to sink in deeper.
“Is that a problem?” She blinked at the awful thought that Rafe might not want her to have that kind of a job, something bigger than a 7-3 shift. Something that wove into the fabric of her being, like his work did.
Again he swore, and this time he was the one that stepped back. “No, jeez, of course not. It’s just…I didn’t realize. So when I saw you…”
She waited. Guessing wouldn’t help. Neither would filling the silence. If this was hard for him, let it be hard. Figuring out a new normal might take a few fights like this, if this could even be called a fight.
“Your hair is down.”
She did a double take. “I’m sorry?”
“You never do that. And for a second, I thought it was for him.”
“Him who?” She shook her head in confusion.
“Him. Your boss, I guess. The guy you were so cozy with in the booth.”
She blinked in disbelief. What the hell? “Rafe, honey, you have completely the wrong idea—“ He was pissed at her for her hair? Well, two could play the irrational game. “This is ridiculous. You think I’m cheating on you? After watching you bring a woman here for breakfast after a damn sleepover? You’ve slept in my bed every single night for weeks now. How can you doubt that I’m yours?”
“Keep your voice down. I didn’t accuse you of anything.”
“You keep your damn voice down, Rafe Minelli! This is stupid!”
He had the good grace to at least look chagrined, but he didn’t apologize.
“You’ve never been a jealous person, what the hell is going on?”
He twisted his lips into a flat line. It was better than a scowl, but not by much. “I don’t know.”
The last thing she wanted to do was placate him, but she had to get back to work and she didn’t want their first fight to linger, unresolved, because she’d walked away from him. “Well, I don’t know either. But I don’t like it.”