Page 11 of Even In Our Dreams

My tongue strokes along hers and precum leaks from my cock.

Fuck. She can’t think I just want sex from her. But even as the thought hits me, she makes a move to straddle me, never taking her lips from mine.

“People might see,” I protest with weakest fucking protest between open mouthed kisses down her neck. She gives me another of those sweet gasps and I rake my teeth along her neck.

“I can be quiet,” she murmurs as her breasts press against my chest.

With that promise, my hands roam down her body. I cup her ass as she pulls the blanket up around us.

There are only ten vehicles parked up here on the hill. We probably know every single driver. There’s not a chance in hell we’re going all the way up here. They’ll see and I’ll be damned if I let anyone else hear these addictive moans she’s giving me.

Possessiveness grips a hold of me as I move her under me. She gasps, at first, shocked from the move, and her nails dig into my shoulders as she holds on. Then she lets out a feminine laugh and kisses me again, one of those short pecks. With her beneath me, I pepper kisses down her neck before coming back up. All the while she writhes under me.

I whisper at the shell of her ear, “You have no idea how much I want to taste you right now.”

Goosebumps flow down her shoulder as she shivers beneath me with lust filled eyes.

“You want to stay the night at my place,” she questions, and as she does, she presses herself against me. Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes there’s more that I want to do than just eat her out.

She must read the thought racing through my mind: that would make the town talk.

“You could sneak out in the morning?” she offers like it’s a question.

“You must really want me to stay over.” I rock myself into her

“Maybe I just want to get in bed with you,” she comments and settles down into the pillows beneath me.

Is that all you want me for? I almost ask her. Before I can, she reaches up, wrapping her hands behind my head and pulls me down to her with another kiss.

AUBREY

“You’re cooking?” Lauren’s tone is skeptical as she and Gemma slip into the kitchen, Marlena must be the one closing the door as I peek over my shoulder.

“I am,” I answer as I stir the pot. The garlic bread is in the toaster, and store bought, same as the pasta.

“You’re cooking Bennet dinner tonight,” Lauren asks to clarify and then shares a glance with Gemma as Marlena enters the kitchen. She’s the first to pull out a stool and reach for the red wine at the table while Gemma and Lauren stare back at me expectantly. “What? He had a long week and he’s going to a conference next week-”

“You’re only supposed to cook for a man if you want him to move in,” Gemma comments with a smirk. Lauren’s smile widens along with Gemma all the while Marlena fills her glass and couldn’t care less about the two of them teasing me.

“Is that true?” I question with a smirk as I tap the wooden spoon on the edge of the saucepan. The red sauce is my grandmother’s recipe and the scent of the garlic and herbs makes my mouth water. I’m not the best cook in the world, but this sauce is going to seal the deal.

“Yeah. You only cook for a man in your own house if you want him to move in.” As Gemma lays out the statement as if it’s fact she finally pulls out the stool. “In his house if you want to move in with him… There’s a book about it or a blog or something. I read it somewhere.”

Lauren laughs as she pulls out her stool. “Yeah okay,” I comment and then I turn around to face the trio all lined up at the granite countertop… “Well what if I do want him to move in?”

It’s been three weeks of seeing him, occasional sleep overs and sneaking out, tip toeing about how perfect we are. Neither of us has put a label on it, but we talk every day and we can’t keep our hands off of each other.

“Are you out of your mind?” Lauren objects immediately and just before I was going to add that it seems logical. I bite back that thought and give a different response.

“I don’t think so,” I shrug. One breath in as three sets of shocked eyes stare back at me. “I think I might love him.”

“You are out of your ever-loving mind,” Gemma states again as if it’s fact.

“You can’t be in love with someone you’ve only been dating for a week.”

“Three weeks… if you round up,” I rebut.

“Lauren tell her,” Gemma elbows Lauren and Marlena simply clings to her glass.

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