by Meghan Quinn
Shit.
My wall crumbles, brick by brick, my will snapping when she shifts on my lap again, her nipples grazing the T-shirt stretching across my chest.
“Touch me, Stryder.”
I bite my bottom lip, my hands starting to move up her ribs, my thumbs curling right below her breasts.
“This is us.” She presses a kiss against the corner of my mouth. “This is between you and me only.” Another kiss to my jaw. “I want you.” Kiss to my chin. “I want you inside me.” Kiss on my lips where her tongue strokes across the seal of my mouth, opening my lips.
My thumbs inch up, the heaviness of her breasts centimeters away.
Moving her mouth over mine, she continues to pry my mouth open, greedy with her kisses, her hands gripping the back of my neck, pulling on the strands of my hair. She’s testing me, she’s cracking me, and she’s shooting a tingling sensation up the length of my back with every swipe of her tongue.
Grinding on my lap, my cock rock-hard, she moans, her movement causing the tips of my thumbs to touch the bottom of her breasts.
Fuck.
She moans again, repeating the motion, that brief pass of my thumb setting her on fire. Her hips move faster, her mouth becomes more greedy, her fingers dig into my scalp right before one of her hands moves to mine. Covering the back of it, she lifts it to one of her breasts and I take her into my palm.
Squeeze.
Moan.
Squeeze.
Head falls back.
Squeeze.
Cock presses into the zipper of my pants.
Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.
“Oh God,” she moans, mouth parted, wonder in her eyes, a catch in her breath, a grind of her hips. “Please,” she whispers, her voice pleading. “I’m so close. I’m throbbing for you, Stryder. I don’t want to come again unless you’re inside me. Please.”
I can’t go another day, another fucking minute with Rory begging me to be inside her. I need to feel it. I need to know that the love I have for this woman defeats the betrayal of my best friend.
Because with Rory ready to split apart on my lap, she’s clouding my brain, fogging it up with lust, with this unmistakable passion I have for her. A haze falls over my thoughts, and the only thing on my mind is Rory and the way her body feels captured by mine.
“Take me, Stryder,” she whispers.
Forehead pressed against hers, eyes squeezed shut, my heart opens up to her, and I snap.
A guttural sound floats out of me from the pit of my stomach as I stand, her little body wrapped around mine, clinging, not wanting to let go.
In three strides I make it to her bed, where I set her down and keep my eyes trained on her as I reach behind me and yank off my shirt, pulling it over my chest. Her face relaxes, her eyelashes flutter, inky black and thick, enticing me to come closer.
While I take off my belt, I take every last inch of her in from her slender yet toned shoulders, to her perfect tits, round with hardened nipples, to her flat stomach, and red lace panties that reveal almost everything through the thin lace.
I release my belt and say, “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Rory.”
She props herself up on her elbows and watches as I unbuckle my pants and shuck them to the side with my socks, leaving me in nothing but my boxer briefs, my erection prominent. By the time I look up at her again, her legs are wide open. Nothing is left to my imagination, and nothing will stop me from now making her mine. Fuck. She’s so fucking hot.
Leaning forward on the bed, I press her back into the mattress and move my mouth to hers, devouring her lips, a surge of passion erupting over my skin, burning up the blood boiling in my veins.
When she lifts her arms above her head, giving me access to her entire body, it’s as if she released a wild beast from his cage. I need her . . . now.
I glide my hands to her breasts where I take them both in my palms and squeeze hard.
“Oh . . . shit,” she moans, arching off the bed. “Yes, Stryder.”
God, hearing her say my name like that, it only spurs me on. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
“Condoms are in the nightstand.”
Turning toward the drawer, I take one out and quickly pull my briefs down only to sheathe myself. When I turn back around, I find Rory stretched across the bed, completely naked, legs spread wide, inviting me in.
And in that moment, everything around me fades away, the only thing in my line of vision is Rory and her gorgeous body being offered up to me.
I’ve dreamt of this. I’ve spent nights alone in my bed, wondering what it could be like to have Rory present herself like this to me. I’ve spent wasteful minutes trying to envision what it would be like if she was actually mine and now that my wildest fucking dream is coming true, I’m not going to let anything stand in my way.
Not my fears.
Not my list of fuck ups.
And not the face of my best friend.
I’m taking what I want, and I’m pushing past the last thing holding me back from fully being with Rory.
She’s mine now.
Pulling her hips to mine, I lower myself and place the head of my cock against her entrance where it slides along her slit. She clenches the sheets above her, spreads her legs even wider and bites on her bottom lip. Her eyes are pleading.
Taking one last breath, I insert myself into her warmth. Sharp, erratic breaths escape me as I sink farther and deeper inside her. Bending at the waist, I place my hands on either side of her face, and lower my mouth to hers just as I push the last few inches. She groans past my lips, vibrating them with her pleasure.
“You’re so . . . big,” she breathes out. “I don’t think I can last long.” I move my hips, adjusting myself. “Oh God, Stryder.” My name falls past her lips just as her hands come to the back of my neck, pulling me down closer to her lips, crashing our mouths together.
I shift again, my cock widening her, motionless, letting her adjust to my girth.
Her walls clench around me, spasming as she shifts. “I need you to move,” she whispers. “I’m going to come. Please.”
“Not yet, baby.”
“Stryder,” she moans, her body shifting again.
“Wait for me,” I plead as she brings my mouth to hers again, our teeth clashing, our tongues swiping, our movements frenzied.
There is no finesse about it. We’re clawing at each other. My hands palming her breasts, molding and plucking. Her hands run down the curves and divots of my muscles, scraping her fingernails over my nipples and then running back up to my neck where she grips my dangling dog tags and pulls them close to her chest, moving me in even closer.
I lower myself to my elbows, bringing my mouth closer to hers, our noses touching, our connection frenzied as my hips rock into her, my cock pounding into her center at an alarming rate.
In and out.
In and out.
Slamming hard, my need to claim her is overwhelming. There is nothing beautiful about the way I’m making love to her. It’s raw and animalistic and uncoordinated as we both claw at each other, searching for that connection, finding it deep within each other.
“Need to be deeper,” I grunt, pulling myself out of her.
She gasps right before I flip her to her stomach and pull her hips up, only to thrust inside her without a hitch in my movements. “Ohhh . . . fuck,” she groans as I slam into her.
She presses her forehead to the mattress, giving me an incredible angle that I take advantage of.
I rock us back and forth, my cock burying so far inside her I’m afraid I won’t come back up, not when I hit the hilt of her center, making her buck erratically against me.
Feral sounds escape her mouth, echoing through the small space. One of her hands snakes under her and her fingers graze my balls. I still, fully inside her as she rolls my balls between her fingers.
I press into her hips, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. That feels so fucking good.
“Baby,” I gr
oan. “Fuck, baby I’m going to come.”
“Good.” She removes her hand and rests her cheek on the mattress, angling her ass up. “Make me yours, Stryder.”
Leaning forward, my chest to her back, I bite down on her shoulder as my hips fly into hers, my cock penetrating her at a relentless pace, my teeth making their mark.
She stiffens underneath me, and then cries out when I move my hand to her clit, pushing down, swirling my finger.
Her tight pussy clenches around me, my name rolling off her tongue in waves as she comes apart beneath me. The sounds she makes from the orgasm rocking through her body sets me off.
A shot of pleasure flies up my legs as my balls tighten. My cock pulses inside her, my orgasm hitting me hard at the base of my spine and then working its way all the way up, sending my body into a sated state as my hips slow, and I ride the wave of my orgasm until there is nothing left inside me.
Breathing heavily, I collapse on top of her and kiss her shoulder, soothing the sore spot where I left small teeth marks.
My mind is on overdrive as I try to comprehend what just happened.
Rory and I just had sex for the first time, and it was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. She felt perfect in my arms, like she was made for me. The way she reacted to my body, to my length, to my every move, matching me touch for touch, stroke for stroke. It was as if we’d been doing this for years rather than spending our first night together.
I roll to the side and take care of my condom where I throw it into the trashcan. When I return, I scoop Rory into my arms and under the covers where we face each other.
For a moment, I take her in. Hair a mess, a satisfied look in her eyes, a tilt of her lips in the corner. She’s happy, and that makes me so fucking happy. How long have I wanted to be the one who put that look on her face? Joy. Ecstasy.
Just as she blinks, those long black lashes fluttering, I feel an overwhelming sense of peace, a sense of peace I’ve never felt before.
My past washes away, all the abuse and berating I suffered, my father’s assholery a distant memory. The guilt I suffer simmers in the pit of my stomach but never truly reaches my threshold of concern, not after what we just did. Not when she’s lying next to me, completely naked—completely sated—with the most endearing smile on her face while she stares at me.
Hands clasped together and tucked under her cheek, she gazes up at me. “Hi.”
I chuckle and push her hair behind her ear. “Hi, baby.” I stroke her cheek, her soft skin smooth under my touch, and as I look into her beautifully mossy green eyes, I feel the last of my wall crumble to the ground.
I have to tell her.
I need to tell her.
The words are heavy on my tongue, ready to be unleashed.
I don’t think I can go another minute without confessing how I really feel.
With a deep breath, I fix my eyes on hers, nerves icing my veins. With one last breath, I say, “I . . . I love you, Rory.” Her eyes widen for a split second before softening, her body shifting closer to mine. “I’ve loved you for so fucking long. So goddamned long.”
One of her hands goes to my chest and plays with my dog tags, the almost silent clanging of them filling in the silence. “What do you mean?”
“The party,” I say, playing with a strand of her hair, “where you met Colby for the first time. I was completely enamored with you. I saw you from across the deck before he did, I lusted after you before he did, and I wanted you before he did.”
Shifting so she’s propped up on an elbow, staring down at me, her brow crinkles together in confusion. “You’ve liked me since . . . since the party?” Her voice stutters, total disbelief in her words.
I nod. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because when I saw the way Colby looked at you, it was one of the first times I’d ever seen the stoic look in his eyes falter. I knew he liked you and he—” my voice catches in my throat, a golf-ball-sized lump forming, “—he’s my brother. I would have done anything for him, even if it meant stepping aside.”
“And after that? Did you still have feelings?”
I tug on a strand of her hair, looking back and forth between her eyes, knowing this is the moment where I let everything out. “Every goddamned day. And at the moment, I wasn’t sure you and Colby were going to be anything, so I offered my help to get in touch with Colby because to me, it was just another day I got to see you, another time I got to hear your voice. I couldn’t have you, but what I did have were little stolen moments with the woman I loved.”
“Stryder,” she says on a whisper and a shake of her head. “But . . . you never . . . why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because, you were with my best friend, and just because I loved every inch of you, didn’t mean I had to try destroy what you had with Colby. I loved your from afar, and even though it was fucking painful, it was all I could have.”
She shifts on top of my body, as I smooth my hand around her neck, her pulse rocketing into my palm. Her eyes are jumping back and forth, her mind clearly thinking a mile a minute, scaring me.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m just, I’m recounting every interaction I ever had with you.” She smooths her hands over my face, caressing my cheeks. “Colby’s birthday, New Year’s Eve, bowling . . . skydiving. You loved me? You loved me then too?”
“Bowling, fuck yes, I wanted to be near you. The letters you sent to Colby, I so desperately wanted to pretend they were for me. Helping you with Colby’s birthday? I did it because I was able to spend a few moments alone with you. I was able to have all your attention, and even though it was for a few minutes, it was worth it to me. It eased the ache in my chest. And when we went skydiving,” I shake my head. “I was on the verge of walking out of there. I had no idea how was I going to be around you and not touch you. But then I saw the fear in your eyes, and I knew that even if I wasn’t the one who could hold you and care for you, at least I could be there.”
Her mouth falls open as I watch the wheels in her head turn, connecting all the dots.
I press my fingers through her hair, pulling her a little closer. “I was the guy behind the scenes, wanting you so goddamned bad, but stepping aside so you could be happy. I saw the way you looked at him, the way you wanted him, and to hell if I was going to get in the way of your happiness, even if it tortured me.”
She’s quiet, thinking, making me question everything I just confessed as a lonely tear slips past her beautiful eye and down her cheek. I quickly wipe it away. “Baby, don’t cry.”
She shakes her head and leans in even closer, pressing her forehead against mine, gripping my cheek tightly as she speaks. “You love me.”
“More than anything, Rory. You’re my life.” I lightly kiss her, lending my lips to her, which she takes, entwining both her hands into my hair, gripping tightly.
Lifting her mouth from mine, she says on a whisper, “I love you, Stryder.”
She loves me.
Her confession rolls over me, seeping into my bones, molding and morphing me into a different man. I can feel it, the way her words change me, right then and there.
Love.
An emotion I’ve never truly experienced until she came along. I’ve heard about it, I’ve watched it happen in front of me, I’ve read about it, but never once experienced it. Nor have I experienced the reciprocation of love.
And yet, here I am, lying in bed with the only woman I’ve ever truly cared about, nothing between us beside our beating hearts, and she’s confessing her love for me.
I could die a happy fucking man right now.
Not only does Rory, the girl of my dreams, love me, but for the first time since I met her, I can finally call her mine.
Chapter Twenty-Two
RORY
I don’t think I can catch my breath as my heart beats erratically, my entire body buzzing with butterflies floating through my veins.
He loves
me.
He’s loved me for so long.
He’s wanted me ever since that first day.
Secretly he’s tried to make me happy, even if it wasn’t with him, he wanted me to be happy.
I can’t stop thinking about all the interactions we’ve had in the past, they’re on constant replay in my head.
The looks.
The glances.
The brief hugs.
The lingering touches.
The way he so easily told me how pretty I was.
They never truly hit me until just now. They just washed over me. I’d chalked them up to Stryder just being Stryder, never once did I ever think he had feelings for me.
But he so desperately did.
He loved me when I was with his best friend.
God, I can see it so vividly now, like a reel of memories floating past me. All the times he glanced at my hand holding Colby’s, the pained expression in his face when Colby would wrap his arm around my waist and kiss me on the head, the way he turned around when I would jump into Colby’s arms. He was tortured, being around us, yet wanting to catch any moment he had with me.
The thought kills me, splits me in half, makes me mourn for the man who so desperately wanted me but couldn’t have me. It must have hurt so badly.
I need to ease the ache in his soul, to steal away the pain of not being able to have me.
Shifting on his body, I push up a few inches, my tight nipples grazing across his chest, my dark hair a veil hanging over us. “I need you, Stryder.”
“Take me, baby. I’m yours.”
Reaching up, I cup his cheek, the start of his five o’clock shadow like sandpaper across my fingers as I lower my head and gently press my lips against his. It’s a soft kiss, lips closed, just feeling each other. His hands go to my back where they slide down, dipping, gripping. I slip my tongue over the seal of his lips, parting them, opening them wide until our tongues connect. Unlike our first kiss, this isn’t frenzied or hurried. It’s slow, it’s sensual, it’s giving us the opportunity to fully explore each other.