by Amelia Wilde
We don’t make it all the way back.
A mile away from the country club I jerk the wheel to the right and pull off onto a dirt road that leads in to a manmade lake. We used to come here in high school. Lots of other people did, too. You were lucky if this place was deserted the darker evening hours.
There’s nobody here now, and Adam laughs, the sound pure and clean. “Are we going where I think—”
We’re back far enough from the road now and I brake hard, throwing the van into park. Then I undo my buckle and scramble into the back of the van. There’s a folded blanket in one corner that I use to cover baked goods and I toss it onto the floor, then go down on my knees on top of it and start unbuttoning my top.
“Shit, yes,” whispers Adam, launching himself into the back and tearing his shirt over his head. Then his hands are on me, undoing the clasp of my bra, undoing the zipper of my pants, tugging them down over my knees, over my feet, and I’m exposed before him.
He takes my breasts in his hands and circles my nipples with his thumb and I throw my head back with a soft moan. I have never wanted any man to touch me this much, not ever.
“God, you’re incredible.”
“Adam,” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
He leans forward and puts his mouth against my collarbone, dragging his lips down the ridge there.
“If we do this—”
“It’s not just a casual fuck, Val.”
I open my eyes and look hard into his. “It’s never going to be casual with us again.”
“Thank. God.”
Then his mouth is on mine again and I’m melting, I’m sinking into the sweetest pleasure I’ve ever known.
His mouth is all over me. He swirls his tongue around my nipples, he licks the hollow between my breasts, he kisses the hardness of my hips. His hands follow suit, running over every inch of me. It’s all I can do to return the favor, my fingers exploring all the hollows and muscles I’ve missed so badly. Somehow I’m on my back on the blanket, its softness cradling my shoulders, and Adam is above me.
I reach my hand down, down past his ribbed abs, and I grip him in one hand. He’s hard, throbbing, and I can’t wait anymore. I can’t wait for one more moment and I line him up at my opening. I’m slick and hot and wet for him and the instant his cock touches my folds a new gush of heat overwhelms me.
“You feel so good,” he growls into the side of me neck.
“Just wait.”
Then I tilt my hips up and rock into him. As soon as he realizes what I’m doing he thrusts forward and he’s buried inside me, every inch, in to the hilt. The muscles of my body clench round him, tightening and releasing, relishing the sensation of being filled by him, and then we’re rocking together in a rhythm that I haven’t been able to forget despite furious attempts.
The pleasure builds with every motion, bright and blinding and aching, and I cross my legs behind his back, pulling him in deeper, using every bit of leverage that I have to meet every thrust with one of my own. Adam leans down and crushes his mouth against mine and it sets me aflame, drives me wild—I’m kissing him so hard it turns into a bite, his lip between my teeth, and the sound that escapes him is more raw pleasure.
He picks up the pace, slamming into me, and my body loves it, I love it, I love him.
“I love you,” I cry, and it’s almost a scream.
“I love you, I love you.” It’s a growl that would be anguished if I didn’t know he was on the verge of tipping over into a climax.
All of Adam’s muscles tense and I meet him one last time, drawing him in as deep as I can, and then I’m in the middle of my own shuddering release. The trembling brings him over with me and he locks his hips against mine, in deep for his own ecstasy.
When it’s over he drops his head against my collarbone, breathing hard, and I thread my fingers through his hair. There’s a sacred silence.
Finally, I shift my weight and he picks up his head. “We fogged up the windows.”
We both laugh at that, long and hard, and then he sits up and offers me a corner of the blanket. Then he hands me my clothes piece by piece, helping to tug them over my head, over my hips.
“You’re right,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head. “It’s broad daylight. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“My place for some food?”
“You don’t have anywhere else to be?”
I pull his face toward mine. “I don’t ever want to be anywhere without you again.”
“I want that too.”
Epilogue
One year later
Adam grins at me, my hands in his, and my core goes molten hot. I bite my lip, just a little, but I hold it together. We have an audience.
“I do.”
The priest moves back half a step. “You may kiss your bride!”
Adam takes my face in his hands and kisses me, long and deep, the audience be damned, and the church erupts in cheers.
This day is absolute perfection, but it has nothing to do with the dress, or the cake. It’s all about the man standing in front of me. The man I always wanted.
“It is my pleasure to announce to you, for the first time in public, Mr. And Mrs. Adam Walker!”
We turn to face our guests, my parents beaming in the front row next to Adam’s parents, all of our friends and family behind them, and a jolt of pure joy zips through me.
Music swells as he tucks my hand into the crook of his arm and we fly down the steps, moving quickly toward the exit, our wedding party behind.
Adam leans down.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“But do you know what?”
We burst through the doors of the church.
“What, husband mine?”
“I can’t wait to get that dress off of you.”
“I know a secret closet.”
“Let’s go.”
He takes my hand in his and I pick up the hem of my dress, running toward the beginning of a lifetime of joy.
More from Yours Truly
Single Dad’s Waitress
Ryder pulls into his driveway and hops out of the driver’s seat, coming around to the passenger side and opening my door. I just have enough time to get my seatbelt off before he’s pulling me out, wrapping his arms around my waist and covering my mouth with his. My entire body relaxes into him. God, I want him. I want him all over me. I want him everywhere he can possibly—
He breaks off the kiss, then plants another one on my cheek. “I’ll be back.”
I swear, I actually hear a record scratch. “What? We’re not going to—”
“Time’s up for tonight.” He runs his fingers down my jaw, down my neck, and traces a path over my shoulder.
“Shit.” Here I am, nipples hard against my bra, panties practically off already, and he has to go. “I mean—”
“Don’t worry, Valentine,” he says, giving me a squeeze that’s not enough, that’s just not enough. “There’ll be time later for our too-spicy fling.” He heads back around the car, his grin melting through my core.
“That’s not sexy,” I call after him.
“Yes, it is,” he calls back, shutting the door. “And so are you.”
Then he drives away, leaving me frustrated and squirming in his own front yard.
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Books by Amelia Wilde
The Cash Brothers Series
Hard Cash
The Endless Kiss Series
Reckless Kiss
Fearless Kiss
Shameless Kiss
Ruthless Kiss
Priceless Kiss
The Second Chances Series
Slow Burn: Boxed Set
—Individual Titles—
Never His
Only His
Always His
The Dirty Series
Complete Dirty Series
: Boxed Set
—Individual Titles—
Dirty Rich
Dirty Royal
Dirty Rogue
Dirty Ransom
Dirty Rumor
Crossover Novels
Reckless Falls Kiss (with Vivian Lux)
Standalone Novels
Heavy: A Second Chance Romance
Single Dad’s Waitress
Cover Design: Booming Covers
© 2016, 2017 Amelia Wilde
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