Slide (Boosted Hearts Book 3)

by Sherilee Gray

  She pushed that aside and took another step closer.

  He shoved a hand through his hair with impatience. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

  His breathing grew more unsteady as she closed the gap separating them. “I’m not that girl anymore,” she said into the quiet room.

  “What?” He watched her, brows lowered in confusion.

  “The one who made a clumsy attempt at seducing you in our garage.”

  He tensed.

  “I’m a grown woman. I know what I want. I’m not looking for happily ever afters.” And she wasn’t. She’d given up on that. The last few months had only solidified those feelings.

  “You’re my best friends’ baby sister. I shouldn’t even think about touching you, let alone the shit I’ve already done.” His fingers curled at his sides. “Fuck, the dirty fucking fantasies I’ve had about you over the years…it’s wrong, Lucy,” he said again. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

  His voice trailed off when she tugged the towel wrapped around her free, letting it drop to her feet. “You won’t.”

  A pained sound rumbled from his chest.

  Taking his hand, she lifted it, uncurling his fingers so she could press his rough palm against her naked breast. “Does that feel wrong to you? ’Cause it feels pretty damn right to me.”

  He cursed again, coarse and rough and so damn deep. “Only you can stop this,” he rasped. “Fuck, stop this now, Lucy. Last damn warning.”

  “I don’t want to stop.” She pressed closer to him. “Don’t hold back to protect me. I don’t need protecting, not from you.”

  He flinched.

  She didn’t know what caused that reaction, but then she’d given up trying to read Adam a long time ago. The only thing she knew for a fact in that moment was that Adam wanted her as much as she wanted him. “No one will ever find out. I’ll never bring it up again. We get back to LA, we forget this ever happened.”

  One of his hands sank into her hair, fisting, tilting her head back. “That easy, huh?”

  Oh God. “That easy,” she lied. She leaned into his touch, seeking more, needing—more. “I don’t want anything from you that doesn’t involve an orgasm.”

  His nostrils flared, and then his other arm snaked around her waist and he yanked her up against him. “You’re about to get what you asked for, baby girl.”

  He slammed his mouth down on hers and kissed the hell out of her.

  Chapter Twelve

  We get back to LA, we forget this ever happened.

  Adam walked Lucy backward toward the bed. Like fuck she’d forget it ever happened. She could pretend he’d never been inside her, go back to the way they’d been before, biting each other’s heads off, but he’d make sure she never forgot one damn moment of their time together.

  Her hands moved up to his chest, fingers flexing and digging in. She stumbled, but she wasn’t going anywhere. Her feet were barely touching the ground.

  If all she wanted from him were orgasms, he’d give them to her. He was going to ruin her, fucking make himself the bar she measured every other man to. Make sure she damn well found them lacking. It was wrong to want that. Totally fucked up, selfish, but if he couldn’t physically have her after this trip, he’d make sure he was buried so deep she never forgot him.

  The backs of her knees hit the mattress.

  He tore his lips from hers, which right then was not what he wanted to do, but getting naked with her won out his internal battle. “Get on the bed.”

  Her mouth was dark from his kiss, glistening. Her sweet, handful-sized tits jiggled as she dropped her ass to the bed and shimmied back, doing what he asked.

  Reaching back, he yanked his shirt off and flung it aside, then toed off his boots, tore open his jeans, and shoved them and his boxers down. He didn’t fuck around, not when the only thing he could think about was how Lucy would feel against him, bare skin to bare skin.

  He came down on top of her and groaned. Jesus Christ. “Wrap your legs around my waist so I can feel your hot little pussy against me while I kiss this perfect mouth some more.”

  He was done weighing his words, holding back. If this was all they had, he was taking it all while he had the chance. He’d tried to resist. Fuck knew he’d tried. But she’d pushed until he’d snapped. Lucy asked for this, so she was going to fucking get it.

  As soon as her legs spread for him—shit, her wet heat right there against the underside of his impossibly hard cock—he took her pouty mouth and owned it. He would never forget her taste, no fucking way. No one tasted like her. Like heat and sex and comfort—like perfection. He hadn’t even fucked her yet and already no one compared to her.

  He kissed her until she was squirming and moaning, pussy so slick there was no way he could stop himself from sliding back and forth through her sexy slit, teasing her clit. He kept it light, just enough to work her up, but not enough to let her come. Sweat slid down between his shoulder blades from the effort not to slam up inside her and take what he’d wanted for so long, but he was determined to hold off. To make it last. To make this the best she’d ever had. He moved his mouth along her jaw, her throat, over her collarbone—down to her tits. They were a perfect handful and those dark cherry nipples made his mouth water. He flicked her with the tip of his tongue, loving the way she thrust her fingers into his hair and fisted, arching up for more, trying to shove him close.

  She moaned. “Suck it,” she said through panted breaths.

  His cock jumped, balls drawing tight. “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

  “When it comes to you, yes.”

  He didn’t know what that meant, but he loved the way her thighs tightened against his hips when she said it, loved the husky, sexy rasp to her voice, the way she was rolling her hips under him. He sucked her into his mouth, giving her what she wanted, what they both wanted.

  She cried out and, shit, Lucy went fucking wild beneath him, bucking and pleading, grinding against his cock like she thought she might die if he didn’t get inside her now.

  It was him who was close to goddamn dying.

  He’d planned to draw this out, to wait until she was so wet her thighs were slick, until she was begging him to fuck her—but they were already fucking there. The women he slept with often tried to get him to lose control, were amazed by how long he could hold out, getting them off over and over before he fucked them. Wearing them out, so when he was done they’d pass out and he wouldn’t have to sleep alone. Pathetic, but true. He purposely disconnected, gave them nothing of himself except his body.

  It wasn’t working with Lucy.

  And that terrified him, even as he reached for his discarded jeans and pulled out a condom, even as he took her mouth again, kissing her deep as he tore open the packet. He was on a collision course straight to hell, and Lucy the little she-devil had chosen to ride shotgun. Only she’d leave as soon as this was over, and he’d burn for the rest of his damn life.

  Burn for her.

  As he lifted up and stared into her eyes, he knew he’d do it all again. He’d take what she’d given him, and revel in every damn moment.

  She lifted her arms, sliding her hands over his shoulders and up the side of his neck. “Now…please.”

  Her lips were parted, each panted breath making her breasts sway, belly quivering. She was the most exquisite sight he’d ever seen and he locked every detail away in his mind, even though he knew revisiting this moment would be torture. But right then, he was living it. He was about to sink inside the only woman he’d ever truly wanted, about to finally learn the sounds she made when he filled her over and over again.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Luce.” The words slipped past his lips, and he couldn’t regret them or wish them back, no matter how vulnerable he sounded. Right then he didn’t care if she heard the way his voice broke when he said it, because she deserved to be worshiped, even if it was only for the short time they had left.

  She blinked up at him, green eyes wide
and gorgeous, heavy with need. Shit, breathtaking. “I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you right now.” She gripped him tighter. “Please,” she said again. “God, I feel so empty.”

  There was a catch to her voice as well that he felt in his gut.

  Holding himself up with one hand, he guided himself in with the other. Then he came down on top of her so her chest and belly were pressed to his, and started to push inside.

  Her thighs tightened, heels digging into his ass. Jesus. So fucking tight. He kissed her soft mouth while his gaze moved over her beautiful face, taking in every damn thing. The way her eyes grew heavier, lips parting on a groan as she stretched to accommodate him—the way her breath hitched when he pushed deeper. And when he tilted his hips and was finally all the way in—the way she sounded when she cried out. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing the sound, tasting it, savoring it, and started moving.

  Her body gripped onto him, making him shake with every deep stroke. Her hands slid down to his lower back, fingers digging in, and when she started to move with him he nearly lost his goddamn mind. She rolled her lithe body against his, seeking more, taking what she needed.

  “You keep moving like that, this won’t last long,” he gritted out.

  She stared up at him, face flushed, skin glistening. “I’m right there with you.” She squeezed around him and dug her nails into his ass.

  “Lucy…”

  “Harder,” she cried. “Oh God, fuck me harder.”

  Adam didn’t think he was holding anything back, but as soon as those words left her swollen lips, the leash snapped, and he knew it wasn’t going back on. Shoving a knee higher, spreading her wider so he could go even deeper, he started fucking her, hard brutal thrusts he had no control over, not anymore.

  He’d never be the same again. He knew that down to his bones.

  He hissed. “I want it, Luce. Give it to me fucking now.” He sat back on his knees, hands going to her waist, yanking her down on his cock. She arched her back, tits bouncing, stomach tight and defined as she strained against him. Magnificent.

  “Oh God.” Her hands flew over her head and she gripped the headboard.

  He drilled her hard and fast, one hand going between her thighs to rub her stiff little clit.

  She screamed, legs clamping tight against his hips. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, watched the whole damn thing, locking that away as well. Lucy let go completely, unashamed of the pleasure she was taking. Asking for more with the way she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her hips, holding him there. Then it became too damn much and he grunted, falling forward, covering her again, and planted deep, coming so hard there was a meteor going off behind his goddamn eyelids.

  He couldn’t move. None of his muscles wanted to work. Lucy’s hands started to slide over his back, her hot little mouth pressing addicting kisses to the slide of his throat and jaw. He never wanted to move again—and he wanted to dive off this bed and run as fast and as far as he could.

  Fuck.

  “Holy hell,” she said against his skin.

  Understatement of the motherfucking century.

  He started to move off her and she shuddered when he slid free, a needy moan brushing past her lips. He wanted to push inside her again instantly.

  She clung tighter. “Where are you going?”

  “Gotta get rid of this rubber.” He didn’t recognize his own voice, so damn low and gritty.

  Lucy still didn’t let him go and he looked down at her.

  “You’re coming back, though, right?”

  Her big soft eyes damn near killed him. He had to clear his throat to speak. “Yeah, of course.” Guilt assaulted him as he climbed off and walked to the bathroom. He’d planned to leave, sleep in the car again as soon as she was asleep. Lying beside her after what they’d just done, shit, would be too damn much. But how could he say no to her, to those wide, hopeful eyes.

  Memories assaulted him—shit, slammed into him—and for once he couldn’t fight them back.

  “Mom?” Adam walked through the living room, dumping his bag on the floor. “Mom?” he called louder. She had to be here somewhere. The front door hadn’t been locked. She never forgot to lock up if she went out.

  He grabbed an apple from the counter and headed upstairs. He was looking forward to one of her bone-crushing hugs. College was great, but he worried about her here all alone. Reaching the landing, he called out again. Nothing.

  “Mom, you in here?” He tapped on her bedroom door and the hinges squeaked as it swung open. Shit, he’d promised to fix that before he left.

  The apple fell from his hand, hitting the floor, and rolled under her bed.

  “No…please, God, no.”

  Adam scrubbed his hands over his face. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about that day in a long time, and did anything he could to avoid it. Like sleep with random women, steal cars, and when he couldn’t do either of those things, drink himself to oblivion.

  He cleaned up in the bathroom, hoping she’d be asleep when he walked out. Yeah, he was a coward, but Lucy made him feel off balance, made him long for things he couldn’t have, not with her. Not with anyone.

  Opening the door, he stepped back into the room.

  “Hey,” Lucy said. She was sitting up, sheet tucked under her arms, looking as unsure as hell.

  He’d made her feel that way.

  “Hey.” He stood there like a fucking idiot, not sure what to do. That made literally no sense. He was the king of morning afters. He had it down to a fine art. There was never any awkwardness because the women he slept with knew where they stood. There wouldn’t be breakfast in the morning, no exchange of numbers. None of that shit.

  But this was nothing like that. Yes, they both knew this thing had an end date, but there was no escaping Lucy, no pretending what happened hadn’t just happened. He didn’t want that, no fucking way, and he was lost. Had no idea how to proceed.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “You want a drink or something?” There was something dark and hard, sharp, lodged behind his chest, residual tension…emotion, fuck, whatever it was, left from the memories, and he didn’t know what to do with it, not under the spotlight of Lucy’s searching green eyes.

  She shook her head and flipped back the sheet. “Come back to bed, Adam.”

  That hard knot loosened instantly.

  Come back to bed. Shit, he felt those words, her soft voice, low in his gut, followed by a shot of electricity traveling down his damn spine, lifting the hair on the back of his neck.

  Yeah, unlike him, Lucy knew exactly what to do in this situation. She’d been in it before, right? She’d had relationships, boyfriends, had spent more than one night with the same person. One in particular that he still wished he’d had the opportunity to beat the shit out of. That thought sent a wave of possessiveness though him so strong his legs actually felt weak. It also had him taking the few short steps to the bed and getting back in beside her.

  He climbed in between the sheets, and her warmth hit him right away. The smooth skin of her thighs slid against his, her calves twining with his. She twisted away and snuggled back into him, bare ass getting comfortable against his groin, her back to his chest. He bit back a groan.

  What the fuck should he do with his arms?

  He didn’t cuddle.

  Yeah, some women draped all over him afterward, but he never held them back—but this was Lucy. She deserved to be held. And, shit, he wanted to hold her. They were friends, and they’d be friends at the end of this. Friends hugged all the time, right? Not while they’re naked, they don’t.

  If he put his arms around her, if he…cuddled with her, nothing would ever be the same. He thought sex would do that, and yeah, he was ruined, fucking destroyed for all other women, but holding her, the woman of his dreams…

  She reached back, wrapped her hand around his wrist, and dragged it around her waist, taking the decision from him. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she wriggled her ass
getting comfortable, and then he felt her relax.

  Adam froze.

  “Stop it,” Lucy said, voice sleepy and, God help him, cute as fuck.

  “What?” he choked out.

  “Freaking out.” She shrugged against him. “I like to cuddle. Get the hell over it.”

  An image of her like this with some stuffy psychology professor slammed into the back of his head. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “Would you relax, already? It’s no fun snuggling a robot.”

  This was happening. There was no getting out of it, not without hurting her feelings. And that was the last thing he wanted to do. To her this was no big deal. She liked to cuddle. Unfortunately for Adam, it was like having his heart pummeled by a jackhammer. No one had hugged him, touched him, in a way that wasn’t sexual, that was purely for comfort, since before his mom died. The fact that it was Lucy—shit, he really had screwed himself over good this time.

  “My apologies,” he said dryly—well, he hoped that was how he sounded. Kind of hard when your heart was trying to beat its way out of your fucking chest. He forced himself to relax. “Better?”

  “Hmm, much.” Her voice had grown even softer.

  They lay there in silence for a long time, and finally she fell asleep. He could tell by the way she was breathing, the way she was fully relaxed, leaning all her weight against him, her smaller frame enveloped in his bigger one. Somehow, without realizing, she’d tucked her head under his chin and every time he inhaled, he drew in her scent—her shampoo? He loved the way she smelled. Always had. It was like it had been made just for him, to tempt him and drive him crazy. ’Cause that’s how he felt every time he got a whiff of her. And, shit, he didn’t want to think about how perfect she felt where she was, like the two of them were meant to fit together, just like this.

  Stop it.

  She wasn’t made for him. But it turned out he was even more like his old man than he ever thought, because not only was he a selfish bastard and the kind of man who fucked around with his best friends’ baby sister, he was a glutton for punishment, because no damn way could he let her go. No way was he getting out of this bed and sleeping somewhere else. He couldn’t do it. Didn’t want to.