I tugged on my cock while she dipped two fingers inside. Her legs fell open and she worked her fingers, rubbing her clit with the pad of her hand.
Matching her rhythm, I stroked my hard length, her slippery wetness all over me. Up and down the shaft. I squeezed, feeling the tension intensify.
Hazel was mesmerizing. Her cheeks flushed and her eyelashes fluttered. She fingered herself harder. Faster. Her eyes never leaving my cock.
I could have easily kept going. Stroked it out to come all over her. But I needed more. I needed to fuck her.
“Give me that pussy,” I growled.
She stopped, grabbing onto me as I climbed on top of her and thrust myself inside.
My eyes rolled back as my cock sank into her. Sweet fucking relief.
Burying my face in her neck, I drove into her, my hips pumping. I wanted to devour her. Lick every inch of her skin.
I fucked her hard, until the bed knocked against the wall and she dug her nails into my back. Still harder. She pulled her knees up to take me deeper, a demanding refrain of yeses breathed in my ear. I growled with every thrust, letting instinct and lust take over.
By the time she started to come, we’d somehow turned sideways and her head was falling off the bed. Neither of us cared. I grabbed her hips, pulled her back, and thrust into her while her pussy spasmed around me.
Still holding her hips, I pumped faster. My muscles tensed and all at once, the pressure broke. I exploded inside her, my cock throbbing. I groaned with relief, thrusting with every pulse, coating her slick walls.
Claiming her.
Owning her.
She was fucking mine.
Breathing hard, I stopped. Opened my eyes. Hazel brushed her hair back from her face and let out a contented sigh.
“That was better than dessert,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically dreamy.
I climbed off her, shaken by that moment of primal possessiveness. Where had that come from? “Definitely better than dessert.”
She propped her head in her hand. “But do you still want some?”
“Dessert?”
“Yes. I made brownies.”
I cracked a grin. “I saw that.”
She smiled and got up to retrieve her clothes. “They should still be warm.”
I got off the bed and grabbed my pants. There was a tiny hum of discontent in the back of my brain, but I pushed it aside. Delicious dinner, amazing sex, and now brownies? Couldn’t ask for much more than that.
27
Hazel
“Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation.” ~ Oscar Wilde
The couple at the table across from me were on a first date—possibly second, but I was willing to bet first. There was a telltale hesitance about the way they looked at each other, experimenting with eye contact. His posture was relaxed and confident, but clearly interested. She’d become increasingly open in the few minutes I’d been watching. Now she was leaning closer, touching her hair, and smiling.
It was so interesting to watch the tentative connection between them begin to strengthen. I wondered what would happen if they spent their date doing Corban’s questionnaire. Would they fall in love?
“Oh my god, I thought I was late, but maybe I’m early,” Sophie said. She seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
I blinked, tearing my attention away from the couple. “I believe you’re right on time, actually.”
It was Saturday night and I was happily meeting my friends for drinks. Everly had just returned from her honeymoon and I was anxious to see her.
“Wow. Go me.” She tried to hang her purse on the back of the chair, but the strap tangled around her wrist and she almost pulled the chair over backwards. “Oops. What were you looking at?”
I helped her right the chair before it crashed to the floor. “Just observing the couple over there. They’re exhibiting nonverbal communication that indicates the potential for deepening intimacy.”
“Aw, that’s cute.” She managed to get her purse situated and sat. Her green dress buttoned up the front and suited her frame nicely.
Everly arrived next, wearing a yellow and white dress, turquoise heels, and a sunny smile. “Hi, ladies.”
I stood and hugged her, as did Sophie. Everly caught Sophie’s chair when it almost toppled over. Again.
“Sorry,” Sophie said. “I swear, I use up all my coordination at work and by the time I leave, I’m a mess.”
“No harm done,” Everly said and took her seat. “It’s so good to see you two. I missed you so much. No Nora yet?”
“Not yet. And we missed you as well. How was your honeymoon?”
“Amazing.” She smiled and her voice had a wistful quality. “I kind of wished we could stay forever, but it’s also nice to be back. Although I’m confused about this half-marathon thing. Sophie, did you really make a bet with Bella Ferndale?”
“I did, and we’re going to crush them.”
Everly raised her eyebrows. “Wow. I guess it’s a good thing I went running while we were gone. But I still have some catching up to do.”
Nora rushed in, darting to our table. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, then slid into a seat and leaned in. “He’s right behind me, but I wanted to warn you first. My brother’s in town.”
“Uh-oh.” Everly met my eyes and we both looked at Sophie.
“What?” Sophie asked. “Is there something wrong with your brother?”
“Half-brother, and yes,” Nora said. “So many things.”
“Don’t look him directly in the eyes,” Everly warned.
I nodded. “And don’t believe a word he says.”
“What?” Sophie asked.
“I’m so sorry to spring this on you,” Nora said. “I had no idea he was in town until he showed up at my office. The good news is, I think he convinced my boss to give me a raise. The bad news is, he’s coming. I made him park my car, but he’ll be here any second.”
“I’m so confused,” Sophie said.
Nora glanced back again. “Jensen Lakes is the most charming, charismatic demon you’ll ever meet. Keep your wits about you, or he’ll have your panties in his pocket and you’ll be thanking him for the pleasure of being a one-night stand he’s already forgotten before you’ve gathered up your clothes and limped out of his room.”
That was fairly accurate. The first time I’d met Jensen, years ago, I’d been halfway to his car before Nora had grabbed me and dragged me out of his grasp. It was like I’d been spellbound, willing to do anything he said.
Without looking toward the front of the restaurant, I knew when he’d entered. You could feel it. A hush settled over the establishment, his presence making everyone—women and men—stop mid-conversation or mid-bite, and stare.
It was remarkable. Had I not witnessed it myself on numerous occasions, I wouldn’t have believed one man could have such a widespread effect on everyone in his path.
He was dressed in a slate gray suit—no tie—and wore it so well, it made you wonder if the concept of a man’s suit had been invented just for him. He had thick, dark hair, dark eyebrows, and dark brown eyes. So dark, you could imagine yourself falling into them. Sinking into oblivion while he—