Lightning flashed, and B gasped into my mouth before I ran the pad of my thumb along her bottom lip, savoring the way it felt to taste her again.
When her tongue chased my thumb, licking it, I groaned, and crashed my mouth onto hers once more.
Two years of pain and longing and anxiety dripped off me like rain as I pushed B against the window. I couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t find enough contact as I grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head.
“You’re not marrying him,” I growled against her lips, and like a good girl, B kept her hands suspended above her head as I grabbed the bottom of her tank top and peeled it up and over. I made quick work of her sports bra next, groaning at the sight of her after so long. And then, my hands were on her wrists again, and I dropped my mouth to suck one perfect nipple between my lips.
She bucked against the touch, writhing, and I grinned as I moved up to kiss her again before I turned her palms until they were flat against the window.
“Hold,” I told her.
And then I fell to my knees.
My little surfer girl panted and heaved as she watched me hook my fingers in her sleep shorts and strip them down to her ankles. I dipped one finger under her lacy panties with my eyes on her, and we moaned together as I slid that finger inside her, feeling how wet and ready she was.
B dropped her head back against the window as I fingered her, and then I wrapped my hands around the back of her thighs, holding her steady as I planted a feather-light kiss on her clit.
“Fuck,” she whispered, and I grinned against her mound before hooking my hand behind one of her knees. I brought it to my shoulder, careful to balance her as I ran my tongue along her slit before flicking her sensitive bud.
Her legs shook violently when I pressed two fingers inside her, tongue still lashing right where I knew she loved it.
“Oh, God.”
“Mmm,” I hummed, and she trembled again at the vibration. I sucked and licked and tasted her like a savage beast, like I hadn’t eaten in weeks, and she was a four-course meal.
She was close to coming when I crawled back up her body, kissing her with the taste of her pussy still fresh in my mouth. I grinned when I saw she’d kept her hands right where I told her to.
“Such a good girl.”
I backed up then, stripping my wet shirt off before I slowly unbuckled my belt. I kept my eyes on her, raking over every blessed inch of her toned body as I undressed. And when I dropped my briefs, my hard-on springing to attention, B lost control.
She pushed off the glass, desperate to touch me, but I caught her wrists again and spun her.
Pressing her chest into the glass, I held her wrists in place with one hand and dragged the wrapped condom I’d slipped out of my jeans along her arm, her ribs, the small of her back. My bare cock slipped between the supple cheeks of her ass, and she whimpered.
“Do you moan like that for him?” I asked, running the tip of my nose along the back of her neck. “Does he touch you like I do?”
I sucked her earlobe between my teeth as I ran one hand down the front of her, circling her clit just enough to make her shake for me.
Fuck.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
I pushed back from the window, ripping the condom open and sheathing myself quickly before my hands were on her hips again. She arched her back for me, and I slipped my crown between her lips, both of us holding our breath.
A flex, slow and steady, and I filled her.
B moaned as she stretched open for me, as her knees quaked and her pussy throbbed.
“Goddamn,” I breathed, withdrawing before I pressed in again — a little harder, a little deeper. The way I had her pressed against the window, anyone looking at our building would see us. They’d see her dark nipples flattened against the glass, her cheek, mouth open as she panted for me. They’d see me pounding her from behind, taking back what had always belonged to me.
I ran my hand up her spine before fisting her hair and tugging, arching her neck for me so I could kiss and bite along that sensitive skin. I kept my steady pace, orgasm building with every thrust inside her. She was so fucking wet, so tight, so mine that it drove me insane.
When I was close, I withdrew, carrying her to the couch. I dropped her long enough to throw the boxes on the cushions off onto the floor, and then I sat in the middle, reaching for her hips and pulling her toward me.
B straddled me just like she knew I wanted — her perfect tits in my face, knees on either side of my thighs as she sat down on my cock. We cursed, my head falling back as she dug her nails into my shoulders.
When I opened my eyes and saw her, the lust faded — only for a second — as I realized the magnitude of that moment.
B felt it, too. She slowed, and for a while, it was nothing but our steady breathing as she rode me, smooth and steady. I held her with a knot in my throat, with my heart on my sleeve, with every ounce of pain and abandonment being soothed with every thrust.
B’s eyes watered quickly, and then a tear slipped free, one I caught with my thumb. I frowned, wiping that tear across her bottom lip before I pulled her down into me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight, my lips eager and promising against hers as she rode out her release.
It’s okay, I hoped that kiss told her. I’m here now. Everything is okay.
I believed that. With all my heart, I believed it.
But when the morning light came, everything was far from okay.
• • •
“Oh God.”
B stirred under me, her heavy breathing dragging me from a groggy sleep. I blinked, but before I could even register what was happening, B said it again — louder, and with more fear.
“Oh God.”
She threw my arm off her, scrambling to her feet with the sheet wrapped around her. It twisted around her ankles and she fell, popping back up with a squeak as I shot up in bed.
“Wha— you okay?”
She wrapped the sheet around her tighter, running to her closet. “No,” she cursed, shutting the closet door. “No, Jamie, I am not fucking okay.”
“What’s going on?”
She threw the door open a second later, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt now.
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a naked man in my bed, and it’s not the one I’m engaged to.”
It was early, that much I knew. We hadn’t had much sleep, that much I made sure of. And now, I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “You’re not getting married.”
“What? Of course, I am,” she scoffed.
Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I snapped my eyes open, locking them on hers. “You can’t be serious.”
“Listen, last night was a—”
She paused, and my heart stopped before kicking back to life with a vengeance.
“A what?” I dared her, standing. I didn’t care that I was naked. In fact, I loved the way she couldn’t help but trail the length of me, the way I knew she wanted me — even as she tried to pretend she didn’t. “A mistake?”
She frowned, folding her arms over herself as she shrank back.
“Don’t you fucking say it, B. Don’t you say it was a mistake.”
She cleared her throat, looking out the window behind me.
“I’m engaged,” she croaked.