He seemed to be drawing circles around it with that finger, making her crazy, filling her whole body with a frustration she couldn’t even quite understand. And then the warmth of his chest curved over her and he whispered in her ear, “Want me to fuck you in the ass, Mira?”
“No,” she said quickly, almost harshly. Finally, the right word, the one she should have been saying all along. Only she wasn’t saying it for the right reasons.
“It would be … mine,” he said, his voice deep and smooth as dark velvet. “The one spot on your body that only I would know. I want that, babe. For one little piece of you to belong to me. Me alone.”
God. It sounded like a dirty little secret. But almost like a hot, exciting dirty little secret. She bit her lip once more. Fought off the sensations, the temptation. “No, damn it.”
The tip of his finger still flirted with that tiny fissure. “Let me,” he said. “Let me show you how good it can feel.”
She shut her eyes. Stood her ground. “Not here. Not like this.” Okay, she wasn’t positive that sounded exactly like not ever, which was what she’d meant to imply, but at least it was still a refusal.
“Are you sure?” he practically purred, not sounding defeated just yet. And at the same time—oh!—he pushed the tip of his finger into her anus.
She cried out, gritting her teeth, wanting to claw at something to help stave off the strange yet frustrating pleasure. “God,” she whimpered. “Yes, damn it, I’m sure.”
Behind her he let out a sigh she could feel on her shoulder. “You’re just denying us both, babe,” he told her.
She turned to look at him, feeling a little desperate, wild, almost angry. “Please stop. You’re making me crazy. If you want to fuck me, then fuck me. Now.”
Their eyes met and she couldn’t quite read his. All she knew for sure was that they were both tangled up in mutual lust at the moment. And the next thing she felt was the head of his cock nudging against her cunt. Oh God, yes. At last!
And as he slid it in deep, firm, solid, making her moan, he withdrew his finger from her asshole—but just a second later he pushed another back in! She thought it was his thumb, and the combined sensations had her instantly whimpering and trembling and begging. “Please fuck me, Rogan. Please fuck me. Hard.”
And that’s exactly what he did. He kept his thumb in place in her ass the whole time, the fingers from the same hand splayed across her ass, his other hand at her hip to keep her balanced. And then he pounded his cock into her over and over, each rough stroke echoing through her like thunder as she bit her lip, trying to keep from crying out in case it echoed through the woods and down to the lake. The pleasure was sublime and complete, stretching from her head to her toes. It required effort to keep standing, especially given how tired her leg muscles already were from earlier exploits—but she managed, withstanding every hot plunge, letting it reverberate all through her, giving herself over to the overwhelming sensation.
He never stopped, never rested, just kept driving and driving and driving that magnificent shaft into her welcoming pussy. Eventually each thrust came with a low grunt, by which time her eyes had fallen shut, her whole being taken over by sex. She could smell that now, too—the ripe aroma of sex now overpowered any scent nature had to offer.
“Aw fuck. I’m gonna come,” he muttered—and for a brief burst of time he rammed into her wetness even harder, almost violently, and it was all she could do to absorb what he delivered, the tender skin on her palms being pressed more roughly into the stone she held on to. He growled his orgasm behind her—his final thrusts jolting her again, again, again—and when it was done, together they sank to their knees in the dirt next to the wishing well.
They stayed that way a long moment, Mira leaning forward to rest her head against the cool stone. He was still inside her, although he’d removed his thumb from her ass—she’d felt it leave and missed it when it was gone.
“I didn’t make you come,” he finally breathed against her shoulder.
“I don’t care.” She meant it. Not because she wasn’t still suffering frustration—mainly from the anal play—but because now that it was over, she was thinking again, and she had much bigger things on her mind.
She’d gotten this magical new gift of freedom—but was it too much? Had it just led her down a dark, dangerous road? This sense of sexual liberation had seemed good, healthy, earlier today—yet maybe it wasn’t. Maybe a little restraint was a healthy thing, a smart thing. Ethan had given her this glorious freedom from a place of generosity and wanting to bring them closer, yet now it had made her do something that would wound him if he knew.
“How can you not care?” Rogan finally asked, clearly still stuck on the idea of orgasm.
She began to separate their bodies, his cock leaving her as he placed his hands on his hips to help her rise upright onto her knees. As she maneuvered her shorts back on, still facing away from him, she said, “I can’t believe we did this.” Her own voice sounded hollow to her.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” he argued. And that sounded like a typical thing Rogan might say, yet … she heard something in his voice just then, a tiny little catch when he’d spoken, that made her almost … not quite believe him.
She turned around, lowered her butt to the ground. He was sitting now, too, though his pants remained undone. “It is a big deal,” she said.
He tilted his head, eyes half-shut, the set of his mouth grim. “What does it matter? Who did it hurt? It was just … a fuck. Just old animal attraction that didn’t mean anything.”
But she watched his eyes as he spoke, and she knew for sure now that she saw something more in his gaze, more than his words or voice relayed. “You’re lying,” she said. She was that confident about it.
“What?” he asked, dark brows knitting
“It’s … more than that, more than old animal attraction. That was more than just a fuck, Rogan, and you know it.”
They just looked at each other for a long, quiet moment in the shade of the green canopy overhead, the air around them growing darker as time passed and the night grew nearer.
“Say something,” she finally demanded.
And he let out a sigh. “Okay,” he said, sounding irritated. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m having some old feelings for you. Only they feel … new. Happy now?”
A big whooshing breath left her. As if she hadn’t felt weak enough a minute ago. “No, I’m not happy at all. Rogan, you can’t … have those kinds of feelings for me! You have to stop it. And you certainly have to stop acting on it. Right now.”
Facing her, he gave a nod, appearing sure, like a man in full agreement. “I know.”
For God’s sake, how had this happened? Rogan had feelings for her again? And … and had she ever really given up all her feelings for him? She’d thought she had. He’d been the one to break things off, after all. She’d wanted more than he could give her. And she knew Ethan was the right man for her now, of course—she knew that to the marrow of her bones. But … just to hear Rogan say that, that he was having feelings for her—it shook her inside. To the core. She wasn’t ready for this.
“We need to go,” she said. “I’m sure dinner is ready by now. We’ve been gone too long.” And Lord, remembering that was enough to panic her even without the news Rogan had just shared. They had to go eat dinner with Ethan. They had to pretend they hadn’t just had rough, animalistic sex in the woods. She had to act like Ethan was the only man alive who truly moved her.
Though as she pushed abruptly to her feet and began to brush off the back of her shorts, praying she didn’t look too disheveled, her guilt almost mingled with a sense of anger at Ethan. This was all his fault, after all. If he’d never brought Rogan here, the last half hour wouldn’t have happened. Everything would be fine. But suddenly nothing felt fine at all.
“I know,” Rogan said again. Just that.
Then he stood, too—but she was tired of waiting, tired of feeling like they’d sudden
ly become some sort of couple again, so she simply said, “Come on,” and started to march away, back up the path that had led to this.
And just like the last time she’d tried to do that, he reached out and grabbed her arm.
Shit, what now?
She stopped, darted her gaze up to his. “What is it? We have to go.”
“You’re happy with him, right?” he asked.
Damn it. For some reason, the question nearly stole her breath. “Yes.” She’d thought they were done discussing this. She’d wanted to be done. Desperately. She didn’t want to go down this road.
And that’s when he said, slowly, and more softly than she’d remembered he could speak, “I’m glad you’re happy, Mira.”
Oh Lord, when was the last time she’d heard Rogan sound so earnest, so … almost gentle?
“But … if you weren’t …”
She held her breath. “Yeah?”
Then saw him swallow visibly before he replied. “Look, I know I bailed on you before, back when we broke up. But if we ever got together again, babe, I think I could make you happy. Really happy. The way you wanted back then.”
It felt as if her heart dropped to her stomach. She’d never been so taken aback by anything Rogan had ever said to her. He wasn’t … this guy. He just wasn’t. She’d wanted him to be. But she’d finally figured out that you couldn’t change someone.
So … how the hell was it possible that he was saying this? She tried not to let the depth of her reaction show on her face. And besides, she was still pissed about what had just happened between them. “What? You’re suddenly Mr. Settle Down and Commit?”
He met her gaze and looked … like he didn’t quite know himself, didn’t quite know who he was in this moment. “I’m suddenly … Mr. I Realized I Was a Fool to Ever Let You Go.”
“Oh,” she heard herself say, even more shell-shocked now. And she wasn’t sure there was any hiding it at this point. Then she whispered, “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
She stayed silent, her head rushing with thoughts. She’d once loved him so much. Their chemistry had been electric and it still was. He’d been the uncatchable guy, the bad boy every girl wants and can’t quite have. Oh, it had been good for a while—it had been amazing—but she still remembered with clarity the night they’d fought in his car outside her apartment. She’d seen him flirting with another girl and called him on it. And things had been heading south for weeks by that time anyway. She’d just hoped against hope that he would see her point of view, feel bad, apologize, love her the way she loved him.
Instead, he’d just kept staring at the steering wheel, not saying anything, and she’d felt him slipping away, bit by bit, long before he’d finally said, “Maybe this thing between us has run its course.”
“What?” she’d asked, feeling as if he’d just stabbed her in the heart. Yes, she’d known it was coming, but hearing it was something else entirely.
“Look, you just want this to be a more serious thing than I do. I don’t want to feel tied to you every second.”
God, that had stung. Because for a while, it had been a serious thing; for a while they’d been glued at the hip and he hadn’t been able to get enough of her, and suddenly he was acting like that had never happened, like she’d never been that big a deal to him at all.
They’d talked a little more, but he hadn’t really said much else. And finally, just to clarify, she’d said, “So you’re breaking up with me. We’re done. Am I hearing that right?”
“I guess,” he’d said.
And she’d stormed at him, “You guess? It’s a yes-or-no question, Rogan. Are we done?”
And he’d simply said, “Yeah.”
And now—now, after all that and so much time had passed—he was saying she could have him?
On a gut level, she couldn’t deny that it felt exciting and magical, like the impossible dream come true, the happy ending of a movie.
But … what was she thinking? She loved Ethan. Ethan loved her.
And he was solid and predictable and dependable. And damn sexy, too.
And he’d just cooked her a birthday dinner and blown up lavender balloons and he never even looked at other women and he wanted nothing more than to make her happy. Yes, they’d had their problems, but that seemed to be in the past. It would be … beyond foolish to even think about giving up what she had with him.
And as for Rogan … how dependable was he? Could she trust what he was saying here even if she wanted to? He’d once had no qualms about hurting her, after all. And though she’d eventually forgiven him and moved on, he hadn’t done it very gently, either.
“I’m sorry, Rogan,” she simply said now, stalwart. And then she started away again, up the path.
She wanted to run—she wanted to run away from this whole situation—but she made herself keep a steady pace. Even if he knew she’d been affected by this, she still didn’t have to let him know how much.
“Mira,” he said.
And one more time, she looked back. But more distance lay between them than the last two times he’d stopped her, thank goodness. She was finally starting to get away from him, finally starting to head back where she belonged.
“I’m sorry I said anything, okay? Forget I did. I don’t want to ruin anything for you here, and this …” He stopped, shook his head. “This was all spur of the moment and doesn’t mean anything. Just old feelings, like I said. But I’ll get over it. So … don’t feel like you have to worry about this now, all right?”
She bit her lip. “I’m … not worried,” she lied.
“So you’re not gonna rush back and tell Ethan? Because … we might not be the best of friends, but he is my friend and I feel like shit about this.”
“Nothing to be concerned about—I’ll keep it between me and you.”
“And you’re not gonna declare the party over, tell me I have to leave?”
Hmm, that was a good question. “I probably should.”
“But you won’t.” Now he sounded like the old Rogan again. In the blink of an eye.
“You sound so sure.”
He tilted his head, and even in the dim, shady light, his eyes sparkled. “You’re liking this, having both of us. You’re not ready for it to be over yet.”
And at that, she just turned and walked away.
Chapter 12
She tried to act cool, not too rushed, as she made her way down to the dock. But the fact was, she remained shaken. To her core. Not the least of which was because hearing Rogan tell her that what he’d just said, what they’d just done, didn’t mean anything … somehow told her the opposite. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when he’d said it. Maybe it was the tone of his voice. But whereas a minute before she’d been questioning his sincerity, his dependability, now she knew with her whole heart that he’d really been serious; he really wanted her back.
And now, with that mind-numbing news fresh on her brain, she had to face Ethan after what she’d just done. Oh God.
“Damn—about time,” Ethan said, looking up.
She could smell the steaks and craned her neck to see if they were still on the grill. She had no idea how long she’d been gone. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”
“Nope, birthday girl, just getting ready to take them up right now. But I was getting worried.”
Stepping up beside him, she felt the need to rise on her tiptoes and give him a quick kiss, a kiss of silent apology—although he appeared focused on spearing the three New York strips with a long, two-pronged fork and getting them onto a platter. “So what’d you find back on the trail? Anything?”
Oh God. Rogan. Lust. Sex. Old feelings. “A wishing well,” she said.
He looked up. “Really? Cool.”
She nodded. “So I guess I just … lost track of time looking at it.”
“Did you make a wish?”
“Yeah. But don’t ask me for what or it won’t come true.” Her voice came out sounding calm, but
her heart still beat too hard in her chest.
And as Ethan gave her a grin, she thought back to that moment, that wish. A love that will last the rest of my life. Suddenly, though, now the wish seemed to border on absurd. To wish that and then fuck another man two minutes later—what had she been thinking?
Or … no. Surely fate wasn’t trying to tell her Rogan was the man she was supposed to be making that wish about! She hadn’t actually named a specific man in the wish—but she’d just assumed the kind of love she was talking about would be shared with Ethan. And she still believed that. Because that was the only thing that made sense. Wasn’t it?
Just then, the sound of the cabin’s screen door slamming made them both flinch and look up to see Rogan meandering down the stone steps. Mira’s heart began to beat a little faster.
“Hey,” he said a moment later, greeting Ethan easily as he walked onto the dock, then switched his gaze to Mira. “Happy birthday, babe,” he said, then placed one hand casually at her waist as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. She had to hand it to him—he was good. She’d never suspect the two of them had just rutted like wild animals a few minutes ago. And, God help her, she felt his touch more than she usually would have.
“It’s been my birthday all day,” she pointed out, trying to act as normal as him.
“Yeah, but this is the, uh, official celebration.”
“Where ya been?” Ethan asked easily.
“Took a walk,” he said. “Then … fell asleep in the cabin for a little while. Sorry if I’m late or anything.”
“Nah,” Ethan replied. “Just hadn’t seen you in a while. Here, take these to the table.” He handed the platter of steaks to Rogan, then went about removing baked potatoes and corn on the cob from the grill, too, all of them wrapped in foil.
“Everything smells great,” she told him. “Thanks for going to so much trouble.”
He smiled down at her. “It wasn’t that much trouble. And I just wanted to … you know … show you I care. Make it a little bit special.”
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