Happy Crazy Love Boxed Set

by Melanie Harlow

  “Levi, please,” I begged. “I want you inside me. I want your cock.”

  “Not until you come like this.” I felt his breath on me and then a few light flicks with the tip of his tongue. “Then you can have all the cock you want.”

  Two minutes later, I was screaming his name, my hands clutching his hair, my head thumping back against the door as my clit throbbed against his tongue. I barely had time to catch my breath before he stood up and whipped my top over my head, reached behind me and unhooked my bra, and slipped it off my shoulders.

  He left the red heels on.

  Our mouths hot and panting against each other’s, we tore at his clothing until my hallway was littered with every stitch he’d been wearing tonight. I watched him roll on the condom before turning around and bracing two hands against the door. “Like this,” I whispered. “Like the first time.”

  He stood behind me, teasing my ass with the head of his dick. “The only thing that will be like the first time is the way we’re standing. Everything else will be much, much better. Now spread your gorgeous legs for me, and let me show you how.”

  I opened my legs wider for him and held my breath as he slid inside me, so deep he pushed me up onto my toes. “Yes,” I whispered as he reached around and rubbed my clit with his fingertips, not too hard or fast, but in steady, rhythmic circles that made me sigh. His other hand moved up my stomach to cover one breast, my nipple hard against his palm.

  “I fucking love it when you beg for my cock. It makes this moment, when I first get inside you, that much sweeter.” Buried deep, he held himself there and kissed the back of my neck, sending chills down my spine. His mouth traveled down one shoulder, and I turned my head to meet his lips with mine. Our kiss was languid and sensual, our mouths soft, tongues searching.

  He began to rock into me, slow and deep, his fingers between my legs moving a little faster, pressing a little firmer. “I want this all the fucking time, Jillian. I want my mouth on you, my hands on you. I want my cock inside you, making you come. It makes me feel so fucking good.”

  “I love it,” I said on a sigh. “I love what you do to me.” And I love that being inside me is your respite from everything, your sanctuary.

  He teased my nipple with his fingers, sending sparks of lust straight to my core, and I felt him grow even thicker inside me. “Fuck, I get so hard for you.”

  “I feel it,” I said, wincing as he thrust harder, went deeper. “And I think about it—all the time.”

  “You think about my hard cock all the time?” He stopped moving for a second. “Goddamn, that’s hot.”

  I laughed, a little deliriously, then gasped when he jabbed into me again with even more force. “Yes. I think about how big you are, how thick, how hard. I think about the way you fuck me, how you make me come so fast, and I have to touch myself, but all I want is the real thing.”

  “And I think about this sweet little pussy,” he whispered, rubbing my clit even harder. “The way it tastes, the way it feels, the way you get so wet for me. Every night when I’m in bed alone, I want to fuck you so badly it hurts. I fuck my hand just to relieve the tension, but it’s not nearly good enough.”

  Thinking about him jerking off to me in bed at night was so hot I nearly exploded. I took my hands off the door and reached back, grabbing his neck. “This is what I want. You’re everything I want.”

  His mouth was right at my ear as he thrust deep inside me. “Come for me, love. Let me feel it.”

  Oh God, Levi. Call me love and I’ll do anything you say. An orgasm is the least of it.

  But since you asked…

  Hanging on to his neck for dear life, I arched my back as he fucked me, crying out as the climax erupted, my legs shaking and weak, my insides pulsing around him.

  Afterward, I fell forward against the door, flattening my palms above my head, and he grabbed my hips, holding me steady as he drove into me hard and fast. “God, I love your back,” he said, his voice raw. “I love your arms and your neck and your ass. I love your legs—oh fuck.” He groaned as I brought my feet together, making myself tighter for him. “You have no idea what you do to me. I’m losing my fucking mind. If you knew—if you knew—” His words turned to short, snarling rasps of breath that matched the ferocity of his movement. His fingers dug into my hips as he began to moan, his body going still as his cock throbbed inside me.

  “Yes. Come for me, love,” I breathed over one shoulder, repeating his words so he would know I felt what he did, so he would know he wasn’t crazy, so he’d know he wasn’t alone.

  So he’d know he was enough.

  Levi used the bathroom next to my bedroom, and I threw his white shirt on and went up to the kitchen to get some water. It smelled like him, which sent a tingle up my spine, and I put my face in the collar, breathing in his scent.

  While I was up there, I cleaned up a little in the guest bathroom and wondered if he wanted to come up and watch a movie or something or if he wanted to go to bed. It was only about ten-thirty, which I was both happy and sad about—it meant we still had about twelve hours, but it also meant that we only had about twelve hours. Our night together had barely gotten started and I was already sorry it had to end. When could we do this again? Would it be another week? Longer? He probably couldn’t ask his sister to take Scotty overnight that often.

  The difficulties in dating a single father were suddenly even more real.

  Don’t ask. Don’t say anything. He feels bad enough about that. He’ll think he’s disappointing you.

  Levi came up the stairs wearing just his jeans as I was pulling two bottles of water from the fridge. His bare chest and tousled hair and handsome face made the butterflies in my stomach start up again, and I smiled as I handed him a water. “I like seeing you here.”

  He smiled. “I like seeing you in my shirt.”

  “I love it. It smells like you.” I sniffed the collar again. “Would it be too adolescent of me to ask you if I can keep it to sleep with?”

  He laughed as he uncapped the water. “Then I’m keeping your underwear that’s on the floor down there.”

  I giggled and swallowed half the bottle of water. “What would you like to do? Watch a movie or something?”

  “I’m fine with anything.” He tipped back the water and drank as much as I had.

  “Did you check in with your sister? Everything OK?”

  “I did, and no message. I assume everything is fine.” Worry creased his forehead. “It was sort of…a rough week at school.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He didn’t look entirely pleased that his sister hadn’t let him know how things were going. “If you want to call her, it’s OK.”

  He put the cap on the bottle and set it down. “Come here.” I set my water aside too, and he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me and leaning back against the counter. “Part of me does want to call her, but another part says to leave him be. If there was a problem, she’d call. I want tonight to be about you.”

  I hugged his torso, pressing close. In our bare feet, the top of my head nestled under his chin. “It’s not just about me. It’s about us.”

  He kissed my head. “It is about us. We need this.”

  With one light on above the range, the kitchen was dark and intimate, the only sound the hum of the fridge. We stayed in the cozy embrace for a moment, neither of us moving.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d told me at the restaurant—about feeling guilty, about the promises he’d made to his son, about feeling like he wasn’t enough. Although it made me sad for him, I was happy he’d opened up to me that way, that he trusted me with his feelings. It helped me understand him so much better, especially his reluctance to enter into a relationship. Any time and attention diverted from his son must feel like a betrayal. But he had to know that it wasn’t, right? Otherwise, how were we going to make this work?

  I pressed my lips to his chest, wishing I could make everything better for him.

  “Hey
,” he said.

  I pulled back a little and looked up at him. “What?”

  “Am I insane?”

  I smiled. “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Because I’m standing here in your kitchen thinking crazy things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how much I loved making dinner for you the other night. And what I can make you for breakfast in the morning. And when can I see you in my kitchen. And when can we spend another night together. When can we spend two nights together?”

  I giggled, squeezing him tight. He feels the same way! “We haven’t even spent one night together yet.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m telling you it’s insane. But I also know one night with you won’t be enough.” He kissed me softly. “I want all your nights, Jillian.”

  “You can have them,” I whispered, my pulse racing.

  “But I can’t. I can’t. And I’m resentful of that.” He closed his eyes. “And here’s where the guilt gets me.”

  “Shhhh.” Running my hands over his skin, I pressed kisses everywhere my lips could reach—his mouth, his jaw, his cheek, his throat, his chest. “No guilt. Let’s not worry about anything beyond being here together tonight, OK?” I looked up at him, my breath catching. “This is what we have, and it’s all I need.”

  He took my face in his hands. “You’re so beautiful. And sweet. You could have so much more than I can give you.”

  “No more of that. I just want you, Levi.” My hand slid down the front of his jeans. “Tell me I have you.”

  “You have me.” He crushed his mouth to mine so hard our teeth clicked, his tongue sliding between my lips. His hands moved into my hair, and his breathing was ragged and heavy. Turning us so that my back was against the counter, he put his hands on my waist and lifted me onto it.

  I opened my knees and reached for the button on his jeans as he kissed a hot, fiery path down my neck. When I had his pants undone, I shoved them down and reached inside for his cock. It sprang up like I’d flipped a switch, growing hot and hard and thick in my hand. I slipped the solid flesh through my fingers as he unbuttoned the shirt I wore and put his hands on the sides of my ribcage, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. They stiffened and tingled at his touch, and he groaned against my throat as I teased the head of his cock with my fingers. How was it possible I was aching for him to fill me again already?

  “Inside me,” I panted.

  “I have to go get a condom from my jacket. My wallet’s in my pocket.” His breath tickled my neck.

  “No!”

  He picked his head up and looked at me. “What?”

  “Don’t go,” I said, stroking him softly, desperate to feel that hot, velvety skin inside me with nothing between us. Maybe I couldn’t give him all my nights, but I could give him this. “I’m on the pill. It’s OK.”

  He hesitated. “Are you sure you trust it?”

  I understood his concern for risk—he’d already dealt with one surprise pregnancy in his life. But I was diligent about taking my pill. “Yes. I promise it’s safe. I want to feel you this way. I want to be that close to you. Let me.”

  “I want it too.” He reached between my legs and moaned as he slipped a finger easily inside me. “I want it so fucking badly.”

  A moment later, he was pulling me closer to the edge of the counter and positioning the tip of his cock between my legs. He teased me a little first, stroking it up through my center, brushing it over my clit. Both of us watched as he slid inside me.

  “Oh fuck,” he whispered, his eyes closing.

  I couldn’t speak, I was so mesmerized by the sight of his body slipping inside mine, by the thought that there was nothing between us. Running my hands up his chest, I locked them behind his neck and our mouths came together. He moved his hands to my ass and held me steady as he moved in and out, the rhythm slow and steady, the friction hot and tight.

  Eventually he moved one hand between us, his thumb rubbing my clit. “That feels so good,” I whispered against his lips, desire pulling tight in my belly. “You know exactly how to touch me. You know just what my body wants.”

  He drove into me faster and harder, and I locked my legs around him, pointing my toes as my orgasm peaked. I yelled his name, over and over again, writhing and clinging and clawing at him like I was drowning and he was dry land. Slipping his hands beneath my ass, he lifted me off the counter and bounced me up and down his long, hard shaft. I cried out every time he let me all the down, his cock stabbing deep. He turned and put my back against the refrigerator, pounding into me so hard the entire thing shook. Then somehow he slipped his arms beneath my legs so my knees were slung over his elbows, my body open even wider to him.

  “I’m gonna come so fucking hard inside you,” he growled.

  “Yes!” I panted, wild with the thought, bursting with the desire to ease something within him. “I want it, I want everything. Give it to me.”

  With one final violent thrust, he groaned long and hard, burying himself deep within me, his cock throbbing again and again and again. I clung to his neck, our lips barely touching, sharing a breath between us.

  We decided to take a shower, not so much because we felt dirty but because we realized we probably needed a break from sex but still wanted to be naked and touching each other. A shower was a good excuse. Levi threw on a shirt and ran out to the car to grab the bag he’d packed while I ran the water, joining me a few minutes later.

  We washed each other’s hair—I had to stand on tiptoe for that—soaped each other up, and probably touched every single inch of each other’s skin, but not necessarily in a sexual way. It was sweet and tender and romantic the way he knelt down in front of me, the way his hands moved over my limbs, the way his lips brushed the backs of my knees, each vertebra of my spine, the nape of my neck.

  “So do you sing in the shower?” I asked him as he sudsed up my hair.

  “Not usually.” He grinned wryly. “Scotty doesn’t like the noise. Every time I try to do it, he begs me to stop.”

  I laughed. “Seriously? I finally found something you’re not good at?”

  “You did. I can carry a lot of things, but a tune is not one of them. I think he cried last time I tried to sing to him. He hates when I wash his hair too.”

  “Now that I know you’re good at.” I smiled and closed my eyes as his fingertips rubbed my scalp. “You can wash mine any time you want. If I cry, it’s because it feels so good.”

  We dried each other off, hung up our towels, and I grabbed a wide-tooth comb from a drawer. “Want to comb my hair too?”

  “Sure.”

  I turned around and faced the mirror, and he stood behind me, patiently combing through my shoulder-length dark hair. “So gentle,” I said.

  He caught my eye in the mirror and cocked one brow, bringing that flutter back. “When I have to be.”

  Oh, damn. The reminder that he was rough sometimes turned the flutter into an urge. I fidgeted as he finished up, admiring his strong, masculine body in the mirror. When he finally set the comb down, I turned to face him. “Ready for bed?”

  “Yes. Just need a minute to brush my teeth.”

  “Me too. And take a pill.”

  His eyes went wide. “Yes. Please take that pill.”

  I pulled the case from my makeup bag and held it up. “No worries. Hey, this is kind of like a little vacation.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “That’s exactly what it’s like.”

  We finished getting ready for bed, and I lit the candles in my room while he checked his phone one last time. I loved that he felt comfortable enough to walk around naked in front of me. I loved that we were going to bed together. I loved everything about tonight.

  “All good?” I asked, tucking the lighter back in my nightstand drawer.

  “I guess. No word from her.” He looked a little concerned but shrugged.

  I ran my hands up his arms and rose up on my toes to whisper in his ear. “Want to naked cuddle with me
?”

  He made a noise that was half-laugh, half-groan, and I felt his cock twitch against my thigh as he pulled me close, walking me backward toward the bed. “Yes, I want to naked cuddle with you. I want to naked everything with you. All the time.”

  He kissed me, catching me behind my back and crawling onto the bed. I locked my arms around his neck as we slid between the sheets, kissing and clinging, and he rolled over so I was on top. “Mmmm,” I murmured, bringing my legs astride his hips. “I’m never going to want you to leave.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to.” His tone was serious.

  Oh, fuck. I shouldn’t have said that, even to tease him. Now he feels bad. “Let’s not think about that. We still have all night.” I sat up and he took my hands, kissing them before lacing our fingers together above his chest.

  “I wasn’t looking for this,” he said quietly, candlelight flickering in his eyes.

  “For what?”

  “To fall in love.”

  My breath caught and I couldn’t move or speak or even blink. He kept our hands twined together, focusing on them as he went on.

  “It wasn’t anything I thought I wanted or needed or deserved.”

  “Levi,” I whispered, my heart aching for him. “Everyone deserves love.”

  “I didn’t want my son,” he continued before I could say anything else. “I didn’t want to be a father.”

  He was quiet for a second and I nearly rushed to defend him, but something told me to stay silent and merely listen. He’d bared his body; now he was baring his heart and soul, and I wanted them as much as I wanted the physical.

  “I wished, before he was born, that he wouldn’t exist. I thought he was a mistake, and I told Tara I would support her if she decided not to go through with the pregnancy.” He swallowed hard. “Every day, I’m sorry for that. Every single day.”

  My throat squeezed so tight I couldn’t have spoken even if I wanted to. This is why, I thought. This is where his guilt comes from, and it’s rooted so deep, twined so inextricably with his love for his son.