“I need to feel you,” I whisper and nibble on his earlobe.
He sits up, resting his ass on his heels, and strips off his shirt, revealing his defined chest. His hands slide up to help me remove my own clothes.
After a few awkward positions of stripping off jeans and socks and underwear, we’re naked with our mouths attached again. The tip of his dick breaches my center while his lips cast kisses down my neck.
“Shit. Condom,” I say.
He rips his lips from mine, gets up from the bed, and the look he gives me says we’re screwed.
I close my eyes. “You didn’t refill your wallet after our first night together?”
“Give me a break, who would think I was going to sleep with my win-a-date girl, and believe it or not, my intentions of walking the Brooklyn Bridge last night did not include this.”
“Can you please never call me the win-a-date girl again?” I sit up and stare down the hall. “There’s only one option.”
He follows my line of vision. “Tell me you have some in your purse downstairs.”
“Nope.” We used those ones too. His fingers push through his hair, and I fall to my knees in front of him. “We could do other things then.” I hold him at the base of his dick, licking up his length until my mouth covers the tip of him.
When I look up at him, his vision is locked on me and his hand grips the headboard of my bed. I’ve never had a guy in my childhood bedroom before, and I never thought I would at twenty-seven years old.
He groans and his free hand moves to the back of my head, but instead of pushing me onto him, he guides me to stop and motions for me to stand. “As much as I love that, I need to be inside you. I want to see your face when I push inside you.”
I swallow and nod. “Side table, second drawer, my dad’s bedroom.”
He cocks his head at me.
“It’s not what you think. He’s a military man and a creature of habit. They were there when I was younger. I took one and tried to blow it up. I doubt he moved them.”
“Blew it up?”
I put my hands on his shoulders and turn him around, smacking his ass. “Get moving. I’ll be here, naked and waiting.”
He walks down the hall, looking around as if my dad’s going to pop out from somewhere. According to the itinerary I found, he’s not due home until next week.
A few minutes later, Adrian returns holding a row of condoms as if they’re a first place trophy for a soapbox derby and he’s eight years old.
“Aren’t you hopeful,” I say.
“No, I’m just confident in my stamina.” He takes no time tearing off one and placing the rest of them on the nightstand by my bed. But he doesn’t slide it on right away. “Now let me get back to seducing you.”
“I won’t complain about that.”
His lips move along my skin and his breath teases the wetness left behind by his tongue. The way his fingertips skim along my skin, running around my back and gliding down to my ass, has me moaning. His large palms grip my ass and pull me against his very hard dick.
“I need you now,” I pant, stripping my lips off his only for his mouth to travel to the side of my neck.
He gets up on his knees. “I had all these plans.”
“Next time.” I grab the condom out of his hand and tear it open, pulling out the latex.
“Nope. You are not taking charge… at least not this time around.” He pinches the tip and rolls it down his length. “Lie down, babe.”
My back falls on the lumpy old mattress and he positions himself at my center, holding the base of his shaft. Just as he said earlier, his eyes are steady on mine as he slowly slides into me inch by inch. Once I’m completely filled with him, he lowers his body and captures my lips in a kiss that holds so much intensity, I never want to leave this bed, or him.
The torturously slow grinding of his dick moving in and out of me accompanies his tongue teasing my lips. I hold the back of his head and my other hand grips his hard bicep.
Unable to handle much more teasing, he falls down on me, his rhythm growing faster and faster. Our bodies collide and shift against one another’s. Moans, whimpers, and groans bounce against the walls of my childhood bedroom.
“I’m so close,” I say.
He speeds up until the pressure of my orgasm builds like a brick wall—layer by layer—until the weight of keeping it back is too much and I let go. Pure glory spreads through my body, lighting up every nerve ending. My eyes drift closed, but Adrian drills harder into me and I clench my thighs tighter until he stills and grunts, pumping into me as his orgasm swells over him.
The fear sets in as we catch our breath, lying limp in my bed. What does the future bring now? Will one orgasm really change his mind, or will he leave me behind anyway? Although I hate myself for thinking it or doubting him, I can’t help it.
As if he’s worried too, he gets up on his elbows and his eyes search mine for some sign of whatever I’m looking for in his. “We’re good?” He places a chaste kiss on my lips.
“We’re good,” I say.
“I’ll be right back.” He slides out of me, holding the base of the condom, and stands.
As he cleans himself up in the bathroom, I realize that I miss him already. Although that feeling scares the crap out of me, I stay rooted in place.
Until the front door downstairs opens.
Obviously, one of the things my dad didn’t fix is the squeak that door has made since I was sixteen. He said it was his way to ensure I didn’t sneak out in the middle of the night. I refrained from saying that there are windows and a back door, and he usually wasn’t in any shape to hear a squeak.
“They’ll get that squeak handled. So it’s a three-bedroom with two and a half baths,” a woman says.
Adrian comes out of the hallway completely naked and freezes when he hears little footsteps coming up the stairs.
Oh shit, they have kids with them.
“Don’t touch anything, Caleb!” the mom screams.
Adrian looks as if he’s seen a ghost, but he can’t move fast enough to get into my room and shut the door. I scramble out of bed and toss him his pants while shuffling around to grab my clothes.
The kid pops into the room and screams at the sight of Adrian’s naked ass.
The kid would be lucky to have an ass like Adrian’s when he grows up.
“What the hell?” Adrian whisper-shouts.
Lucky for us, the kid runs back downstairs, giving Adrian and I time to get dressed.
“Hello? Is someone here? Mr. Sanders?” the realtor says, her shoes landing on the hardwood floors.
“It was like a moon!” the kid says to his mom downstairs, and I bite my lip to stop from laughing.
Adrian glares at me.
“Hello. I’m sorry, it’s Sierra Sanders, Greg’s daughter,” I call then pop out the bedroom into the hallway.
The woman stands on the landing. She’s older, with dark hair cut in a stylish bob, but her lack of a smile at this unusual situation says this isn’t going to go smoothly and she’ll probably tell my dad.
Great.
“Oh, I wasn’t aware you were staying here. Your father and Fae told me I could bring anyone around whenever I wanted this week.” She tilts to the side to look behind me at Adrian.