“Open your legs for me, Sam,” he growled, slowly withdrawing his fingers one last time.
She obeyed, dropping her knees open as he fumbled for the condom and rolled it on.
Finally, he settled himself between her legs.
His heart was racing. Her breath was coming in short pants. “If that sheriff shows up right now, I’m not going to be able to stop,” Ryan warned her.
Her laugh was soft and breathy. Until the head of his cock pushed insistently, desperately at her entrance. “Please. I need you now.” She bucked against him.
It was everything he needed. Right here in this ridiculous town. In this room. In this incredible, infuriating, inexplicable woman.
His name escaped her throat as he gripped her hips and drove home in one swift, sweet thrust.
It was otherworldly. Being buried inside her as her muscles clenched then slowly relaxed around his cock to accommodate his size only to tighten again. Joined. Melded. Partners in this adventure.
“I know we just started,” she whispered in a rush. “But I’m definitely going to die from this.”
“Not before you come,” he growled. She was so damn tight he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hang on.
“What about you?” she breathed.
His cock flexed inside her in response and she moaned. “I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” he promised.
He eased out of her, loving the decadent drag of her walls against him, before pushing back in. “Fuck.”
It was too much and still not enough. Her broken cry said the same.
“You drive me insane,” he murmured, dipping his head to lap at her nipple.
She gripped his hair and bucked her hips to meet his thrust. “Back at ya.”
He couldn’t help himself. He pulled out and drove back in harder, faster. Finesse be damned. Meticulous quest to discover exactly what she needed forgotten.
Again. And again he entered her. Her walls opened for him just wide enough to force him up against the edge. Faster. Harder. She was clinging to him, those perfect breasts trembling with every animalistic thrust.
She deserved sweet, romantic. But he couldn’t slow it down. Couldn’t take his time. He was pumping into her like a piston. Every thrust pushing her a little further across the mattress. His knees and toes dug into the bed for leverage as he drove them both up.
“Dammit, Sammy,” he murmured as he felt her start to flutter around him. Her release was going to be the end of him, and he knew it. Bringing his mouth to hers, he continued to hammer into her. His body was desperate for the relief that only her release could bring.
Her nails dug into his skin and dragged across his back. Her breasts were flattened between them, and he wished he had the time to worship them with his mouth, but right now, the only thing that mattered was Sammy coming apart on his cock. He yanked her knees up higher.
“Ryan!” she cried out, and he felt her clamp down on him in the single most erotic experience of his life. Her arms and legs locking around his body while she exploded around him, working his cock in one of biology’s perfect miracles.
His own release was right there. Ready to destroy him. One glorious squeeze, one sob from her mouth, and the heat of it seared his balls, blazed up his shaft, and then he was coming—hard, so hard—into the depths of her body.
She throbbed and writhed around him, wringing him out, making him feel like a fucking hero until they were both trembling.
He was spent. Hollowed out. The icy dread of the unknown, all the “now whats” that had circled endlessly in his brain were quiet. Vanished as if they’d never existed. The only thing that existed, that mattered, was the woman in his arms.
“I like your bed,” he murmured sleepily against her hair. It could have been ten minutes later or an hour. He had no concept of time as he floated in post-orgasmic bliss.
“Mmph. Thanks,” she said, rolling her face out of the pillow. He could hear the smug smile in her voice. “I like having sex with you in my bed.”
He would have grinned, but still hadn’t regained fine motor control. “I like that thing you did with your mouth and then that other thing you did with your legs. Actually, I liked all the things you did. You were right.”
“Right about what?” she asked.
“You’re really good at this.”
She snickered lazily. “You’re no slouch yourself. High five?”
Blindly, he reached out and—after accidentally high-fiving her breast and then her forehead—he found her hand.
“Good in bed. Bad at high-fiving,” Sammy mused, snuggling deeper under the covers.
“I’ll update my resume,” he joked.
She rolled over to face him and folded her hands under that angel face. “What are you going to do? Or is that too heavy to talk to after…”
“After all those orgasms?” He reached out and traced a finger down the slope of her nose, over the fullness of her lips swollen from his own mouth. “I don’t know. I’d thought about applying at a competitor after my non-compete contract expires. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe I don’t have to stay in Seattle? Most of my family is in Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Maybe it would be nice to be closer? To be more involved? Or maybe it’s time to do something different. Something on a smaller scale?”
Maybe he could stay in Blue Moon? Or near Blue Moon.
Maybe he could see where things went with the tomboy veterinarian who didn’t realize how appealing she was?
Maybe the derailing of his life’s plan was just the beginning of a new adventure, not the end of a dream.
“That’s a lot of maybes,” she said.
“I’m not used to having any,” he admitted, moving his leg restlessly. She had flannel sheets on the bed. He’d never slept on flannel sheets before. He liked the texture. “This one-night stand thing. I’m supposed to leave now, right?”
There was a sweet smile playing on those lips that he couldn’t stop staring at. “Well, it does avoid the need to make awkward conversation around the breakfast table the next morning,” she mused.
“We already made awkward conversation at the breakfast table yesterday morning,” he reminded her.
“Good point.”
“’K. I’m just gonna close my eyes for a minute before I go find my pants,” he said.
“’K,” she yawned.
24
The cat paw poked her in the face twenty seconds before her alarm went off. Sammy hadn’t figured out how her cats always seemed to know when the alarm was about to ring or why they couldn’t stand giving her the last few seconds of precious sleep.
Cats were assholes. Psychic assholes.
She stretched luxuriously in the pre-dawn dark, dislodging the fur ball from her chest, as she mentally assessed her body. She felt good. Sore. Satisfied.
All because Grumpy Ryan Sosa had banged her into oblivion.
Her eyelids flew open, and she slapped a hand to the mattress next to her. It was empty. His half of the bed was already neatly made. Disappointment settled in her chest, dulling the glow of the previous night’s satisfaction. The dumb, twittery flicker of hope she’d felt when he’d looked across the pillow at her and confessed his maybes.