Why I thought tying my arms to the headboard was a good idea I’ll never know, because I have zero control. But God, does it feel so good.
Spreading my legs even wider, I thrust my pelvis toward his mouth, but he simply presses sweet kisses up and down my inner thighs.
“I can’t take it any longer,” I say, losing my last vestige of cool. “Please, Reid.”
“Patience, Eve. I love seeing you like this, and I want to soak it all in.”
“You’re tormenting me. I’m so fucking ready, Reid. Please. I’m wet, throbbing, aching for your cock. Please, just fuck me.” The words fly out of me.
He growls and reaches to the nightstand, ripping open a condom and sheathing himself in a matter of seconds.
Thank God.
On his knees, he leans forward and takes one of my nipples into his mouth while he enters me.
Yes.
He’s so amazing.
Everything about this man makes me ache. His voice, the way he walks, the way he can just reach out and tweak my nipple without even thinking about it. He’s confident in the bedroom, protective but also commanding with every one of his movements. There’s a reason I crushed on him for so long.
As he slides, smooth as velvet, inside of me, I watch as his well-defined abs ripple with each inch he takes until he’s fully inside. He abandons my breast and lifts my hips up off the mattress, holding my bottom half in the air as he pumps into me.
Slowly at first, he develops a mind-numbing rhythm that teases me, builds on the throbbing ache in my core. And then, his pace picks up; his hips swivel into mine, sparking a spot inside me that shoots a bolt of lightning right up my spine.
I clutch my bound hands together and thrust up as he thrusts in and hits that spot again.
“Yes, oh fuck, Reid, right there.”
Again, he pounds into me.
And again.
And again, until a wave of raw bliss sweeps through me. My mouth is open, but no sound comes out as my body shakes in Reid’s hands. I grind against him, my orgasm possessing me, as he comes too, his body stilling, his grunts spurring me on.
It feels like our orgasms last forever until we both slowly float back to reality, small spasms here and there racking through the both of us. Reid reaches up and unties my hands. I quickly wrap my arms around him and bury my head in his warmth, seeking solace from the insane ride my body just went through.
All at once I feel like crying, cheering, and doing it all over again. What the fuck is wrong with me? With my emotions running haywire, I hide in his shoulder, not ready to face reality—or him.
Gently, he rubs my back, his body still connected with mine. “Hey, are you okay?” His voice is soft, soothing.
I nod against him.
“Are you sure? I didn’t push you too hard, did I?”
I shake my head, not able to voice anything.
He lifts my chin and forces me to meet his gaze. I can feel the tears that want to spill over. I try to count to ten, holding them back, not wanting to seem like the lunatic girlfriend who cries after really intense sex.
“Hey, what’s going on? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” I squeak.
“Did I upset you? I’m sorry if I—”
“Everything was perfect.” I press a kiss against his lips. “Just perfect.”
“Okay,” he drawls out. “Then why are you so upset?”
“I’m not upset. I just . . .” I take a deep breath to prevent any stammering. I need him to know what he means to me, what this means to me. “I just . . . I really like you, Reid.”
Satisfaction curls his mouth as he snuggles in closer, his large, sinewy body enveloping me. His voice blissfully happy, he says, “I like you a lot too, Eve.”
And with that, I fall asleep in his arms.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
REID
ALERT: NEW LOVE IS BLOOMING IN THE SNOW
Reid Knightly and Eve Roberts—a couple?
There have been mumblings of a possible romantic romp between the second-to-youngest Knightly and his best friend’s sister, Eve Roberts, but that’s all they were, mumblings among our town’s finest.
Rare sightings, here and there, of them talking closely.
A playful fight in the snow.
An unreliable and drunk source reported that they danced at the Lighthouse Inn one snowy night. But there’s been nothing concrete until now.
That’s right, Port Snow. Hold on to your loins and find yourself a comfortable surface to swoon onto. We have it on great authority that Eve Roberts (26) and Reid Knightly (26) have been spotted at the very popular Snow Roast, not only canoodling but also making out with intensely wandering hands. Let’s just say Reid Knightly was fishing for more than just lobster.
We’re not sure how long this little tryst has been going on, but we do know the hens around town have their eyes open for any future sightings.
We can honestly say that this is one coupling we are very happy about. After all, who doesn’t love a little friend-to-lovers, best-friend’s-sister romance?
But does this mean the infamous curse has been lifted for the once aspiring chef turned sexiest fisherman in Port Snow? Only time will tell.
Shaking my head, I fold the article and stick it in my back pocket as I let out a low chuckle. Eve was right; it’s absolutely ridiculous. And “aspiring” chef? Pretty sure I was a chef.
Fucking Port Snow and the nosy bastards who live here.
I check the time on my phone and then stare down the hall of my parents’ house toward the front door. I parked it at the dining room table, not just so I can keep an eye on the entryway but so I could also enjoy a nice piece of leftover cherry pie. My dad isn’t the only one who knows how to bake—my mom makes the best pies ever.
Dad wanted to take me out to eat and talk, but I told him meeting at the house was fine. Honestly, I think he wanted a public setting so I couldn’t walk out on him again, but I wanted neutral ground in case he said something that pissed me off.
I remember Eve’s words and resolve to have an open mind about what he’s going to say—and to be grateful for his love and support. I’m going into this meeting with the best attitude I’m capable of mustering.
It helps that right before I left for my parents’ house, I had Eve up against the wall of her apartment. Her moans are still fresh in my ears.
That fucking woman. I swear to God, being inside of her is something magical. I’ve never experienced anything like it. The way she claws at me, her moans, her unbridled passion. It’s like I’m drunk on her, and yet I can’t quite get enough.
She likes me a lot, and fuck if the sentiment isn’t returned in full force. I have a feeling I like her too goddamn much.
I shovel a scoop of pie in my mouth and shoot her a text. The girl is always on my mind.
Reid: I can still smell you on me.
The Inn must not be busy because she texts right back.
Eve: Good or bad?
Reid: Really good. What’s your perfume?
Eve: It’s called Sex Addict.
Reid: Really?
Eve: No, LOL. It’s Ralph Lauren.
Reid: I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you wore a perfume called Sex Addict. I would be cool with that.
Eve: So glad you approve. If we’re exchanging confessions, I can still feel the burn of your scruff on my inner thighs.
Reid: That’s hot.