His lips find mine again as he rocks in and out, a gentle beast for a moment, before his pace picks up. My fingers dig into his skin, raking down his back and I find myself clinging to him, surrounded by his masculine scent. He fucks me, hard and rough until I have to silence my screams by biting down on his shoulder. The sudden movement awards me with a deep rumble of a groan that spurs him on. Faster, harder, relentlessly until I’m crashing hard against the wave of my release and he’s doing the same.
He’s gentle when he sets me down, although my legs are weak.
My head’s dizzy and my body’s numb all too soon. The climax still wracking through my body and leaving me so limp I nearly fall to the floor.
Nearly, but I don’t. Disbelief still forcing me to have some semblance of grip on reality.
I just slept with Cade Jameson… No, no, Cade just fucked me against the wall of my foyer. They’re two very different things and all I want from him now is more.
“Do you want to stay?” I dare to ask him, not even waiting to catch my breath. “You want to stay with me tonight?”
Cade lifts his gaze to mine as he pulls up his jeans, buttoning them and already appearing put together. It’s not fair, because he’s left me shattered and I know I look the part.
I’m a well fucked mess and his tussled hair shows the evidence of what I’ve done to him, but nothing else does.
Insecurity wraps its way around my heart until he speaks.
“I’m a pretty easy-going guy, Shar. This could be one good night. It could stay between us. It could be more.”
Leaning against my foyer wall, still feeling him inside of me, it takes everything for me to believe this really happened. It’s happening right now.
“I want it to be more, but that only matters if you want that too. So you tell me.” Vulnerability shines in his light blue eyes when he asks, “You want me to stay?”
If you loved this sexy little short, you’ll devour the first novel in this small town romance world. Start reading Tequila Rose today!
THE THINGS YOU DO TO ME
CHAPTER 1
Aria
The snow falls slowly, drifting in the wind along the once-dark tree line. With the blankets of snow covering every inch that I can see from the large kitchen window, everything shines brightly.
Parting my lips, I close my eyes and down the last bit of sweet red in the stemless wine glass. I’ve never been fond of the cold, but this ache in my chest today… it’s not from the feet of snow that keep us locked inside the house.
“He’s out there,” I whisper, feeling the brooding shadow of the man I call my husband behind me.
“Yes, songbird, our son is out there and just fine.”
With my long hair falling from my shoulder I turn around to face Carter. “When are they going to be home?”
With all of his hard features and dark gaze, Carter still manages a smirk that lights a fire in the pit of my stomach. It rages for him to deny the fact that our son is still young and last night was the first night he spent away from us. And now it’s snowing… feet of snow.
“Chloe said he’s having fun.”
A sigh leaves me and a part of me knows that ache in my chest is because my little baby boy is growing up. He’s on the move and wanting to play.
I miss the late-night cuddles and the way Anthony used to wrap his chubby little fingers around my pointer.
“I just wish I could see him…” I comment, making my way to the large polished counter where, upon inspection, the wine bottle I was going to get is now empty.
“You didn’t want to go. Miss ‘I don’t love the cold.’”
I stare down at my glass as if it’s a traitor and somehow it swallowed up my wine before I was able to drink it.
Two large hands grip my shoulders tenderly. Carter’s thumbs rub soothing circles along the blades of my upper back and then higher, where they dig in deeper, soothing my sore muscles.
With his lips at the shell of my ear, he whispers, “You’re stressed.”
I swallow thickly and admit, “I know.”
“You’re a good mother and he’s in very capable hands.”
“The house is empty…” I stress. Everyone else left to enjoy the snow. This house, typically filled with the sound of so many family members, is now silent.
“Yes,” Carter’s voice deepens. Moving his lips to the crook of my neck, he lets them fall and lays a kiss right there, sending a pulsing wave of desire through me. My back to his chest, he pulls me in closer and I drop the empty glass to the counter, bringing my hand up to run my fingers up the nape of his neck as he kisses me again and then says, not hiding the lust, in the shell of my ear, “We have the house to ourselves. We should take advantage of that.”
Carter
My worrying wife is beautiful. She’s always radiant and poised. When that soft smile hits her lips, life itself seems to melt away into nothing but peace. That’s what this woman gives me: a life I never thought I’d have, let alone deserve. One I want to share with her forever. I’ll give her everything to keep that smile that lingers on her wine stained lips in place, right where it belongs.
“Let’s get you another bottle…” As I take a step back, my songbird places her small hand in mine, letting me lead the way. After three years together, there’s no fight for power, no resentment at the way we came to be. I led her away from a pain and darkness that kept her trapped and she did the same for me. There is only love that remains and from me, a gratitude I’ll forever be in debt to her for giving to me.
In a dark blue, silk to the touch nightgown she glides to the wine cellar door, opening it with a soft creak, but only inches before turning on her heel in her bare feet to look up at me.
“Cross,” her voice turns tempting, with a hint of sin that dances from her tongue. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
A deep chuckle rises from my chest and the hint of a smile lingers on her lips… “Mrs. Cross,” I emphasize her name and remember a time when the idea of me responding in that way would have been an impossibility. A time when she called me ‘Cross’ out of pure resentment for who I was. “That goal is a little too easy to achieve for a man like me,” I tease her back, watching the simper on her beautiful face grow as the blush rises from her chest to her cheeks and she shyly looks away.
With a swat of her hand against my broad chest, Aria shakes her head. “Well if he’s not coming home tonight and we’re making the most of this,” she speaks as she peeks up at me through her thick lashes, “I think I’ll have one more glass.”
My hand splays along her back and I pull her in close to me, feeling her warmth and softness curve around me. She gasps when I nip her exposed shoulder, “Well go get it then.”
Aria
The cellar door closes with a click and with only the dim illumination, Carter’s brooding frame takes up too much of the light.
“I can manage to grab a bottle,” I tease him and make my way to the back of the cellar and to the right. The wine cellar is far too much, with four rows of wine lining the aisles from floor to ceiling and a bricked floor made to look worn, hints of brown matching the dark wood and iron accents in the space that’s much larger than most bedrooms. I love it though.