I’m a fucking mess and I can’t tell up from down anymore and that’s all that cocky bastard’s fault.
Wiping down the kitchen counter I do a quick turnaround, making sure everything is clean and in place before I head up for the night.
Starting up the stairs I hear a knock on the door and freeze. A knock at this time of night is never a good thing and can only spell bad news. Ignoring it, I finish my trek upstairs to get ready for bed.
My phone vibrates and I yank it from my pocket with a disgruntled breath.
Travis: Open the door.
My breath catches in my throat. Turning around, I head downstairs and swing the front door open, finding his tall, commanding presence filling the doorway. The front porch light seems to make his neck tattoos glow from where they stick out from the collar of his shirt and jacket.
He stands there, just staring at me with those blue-gray eyes I wish I could hate but never could, not just because he gave them to our daughter, but because if I’m honest with myself I’ve been falling for Travis Alexander since the moment I met him.
“What are you doing here?” The words come out barely a whisper.
He blinks down at me, Adam’s apple bobbing. Clearing his throat, he holds out a small cylindrical object.
“I came to return this.”
“Return … this?” I repeat, my eyes finally lowering. “My pen?”
He steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Yeah,” his voice is low and gravelly. “But don’t make me go.”
“Huh?”
“I realized something after I turned around and you two were gone.”
“W-What’s that?” I stutter, trying to ignore the flutter in my belly when he watches my lips.
“That I don’t like it when I’m not with you. I don’t know when or how it happened, but fuck, Alba. You were under my skin before I even left town and now that I’m back, I’m never letting you go.”
“Wha—”
He silences me with the sudden pressure of his lips, his hands cupping my cheeks. I’m enveloped completely in him. His touch. His scent. His taste. He’s everywhere and I’m drowning.
The logical part of my brain shouts at me to push him away.
That this is wrong.
It’s Travis of all people.
But my heart. My heart says it’s him. He’s the one I want.
I’m helpless to deny that silly organ even if it would be the smarter thing to do.
He backs me against the wall. Moving one hand beside my head he uses the other to tilt my chin up, angling my lips closer to him. He lets out a tiny hum and I revel in that sound.
I push at his jacket, desperate to free him of the garment and shirt underneath. He pulls away only long enough to get rid of both before he’s back on me, licking, nipping, and sucking at me like he’s starved for the feel of my skin and the taste of my lips.
“Travis,” I murmur, my fingers delving into his thick strands of black hair.
“Mmm,” he hums back, and I’m lost once more in the kiss.
I let out a tiny yelp when he picks me up. My arms automatically go around his neck to hold on. In the back of my mind I worry about my weight being too much for him, but he doesn’t hesitate and walks up easily, kissing me all the while.
“Which room?” He growls out when he reaches the top of the stairs.
“Back left,” I answer.
I don’t have a chance to catch my breath before his mouth is on mine again and he’s carrying me through the doorway. A moment later the soft touch of my mattress hits my back.
“You have no fucking idea how much I’ve wanted to see you like this again. I had dreams about it when I was gone and still didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
“Admit what?” I blink up at him, my tone a little breathless.
“How fucking much you mean to me.”
He captures my lips between his, sucking and nibbling like his life depends on it. His movements feel both fast and slow somehow. Like he’s desperate for my taste but he wants to savor it.
His fingers inch beneath my shirt, slowly guiding up my sides.
Once again, insecurity rears its ugly head because my body looks different since having Dahlia. I don’t hate my new body but that doesn’t mean he might judge it. There’s extra skin there now and stretch marks that haven’t yet faded.
Almost as if he can sense my train of thought, he murmurs into the skin of my neck, “You’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
My heart warms at his words and I tug him closer by the back of his neck, forcing him to look into my eyes. “Do you mean this?” I’m not referring to whether he thinks I’m beautiful or not.
“More than you know.”
With that declaration I decide to trust him with something I’ve never let anyone else have.
My heart.
His fingers find the button of my jeans. He pops it open deftly, sliding the zipper down. A shiver runs down my spine. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t be nervous.”
I want to tell him I’m not nervous, but it would be a lie.
With my jeans loosened his hand skims down my belly past the band of my panties. Further. Further. I gasp at the first touch of his fingers against my core.
“Fuck,” he rasps against my ear, “how are you so wet already?”
He doesn’t give me a chance to answer. It seems he can’t stay away from my lips for long.
Slowly, because he keeps pausing to kiss every inch of exposed skin, he undresses me before doing away with his own clothes.
He grabs a condom from his jeans, smirking at me. “I came prepared.” He tosses the foil packet on the bed beside my head.
“You intended for this to happen?”
His eyes sober, his tongue sliding out to moisten his bottom lip. “I hoped.”
He moves down my body and my back arches at the first swipe of his tongue against my most sensitive spot. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched my body responds with a desperation I didn’t expect.
I wiggle and he clamps his hands around my thighs to hold me in place, a tiny whimper breaking through my lips. Slapping a hand over my mouth I try to quiet my mewling. The last thing I want to do is wake the baby up.
He swirls his tongue around my clit with an expertise ninety-nine percent of men are missing. He takes his time too, unbothered by the fact that despite how turned on I am it’s taking me a little while to get there.
When I finally do, the orgasm rattles my entire body. I bite down on my fist but that still doesn’t completely silence the noises coming from me.
Travis swipes the condom from the bed and rips open the foil packet, rolling the rubber down his length, his eyes on mine the entire time.
He pulls me to the end of the bed and grabs the base of his cock, lining up with my entrance. I watch with bated breath as he sinks into me, both of us moaning in unison.
“Fuuuuck,” he growls out in a strangled voice. “You feel too fucking good. It’s better than I remember.”
Lowering his head his hair brushes my forehead and then he’s kissing me. His tongue pulsing into my mouth in time with his cock. It’s sexy as hell.
“Harder,” I plead against his lips. “Fuck me like you mean it.”