Page 69 of When I Had You

Since Poppy isn’t here, I walk over so the person won’t hear me closing in. I peek through the peephole, my heart stopping fast in my chest.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Hurrying to unlock the bolts and latches, I finally free the door and swing it wide open. I jump right into Cash’s arms—legs wrapped around his hips and my arms around his neck. “What are you doing here?” I ask, covering his face with kisses.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

20

Marina

I’m pinned between a brute wall of muscle and one made of sheetrock when Cash carries me back into the apartment and kicks the door closed. With his mouth attached to mine, I hear the click of a bolt before he pulls back to look me in the eyes. “Goddamn, I missed you.”

“How are,” I start, still needing to catch my breath, “you even here right now? You were just in France.”

“I chartered a plane.”

“You chartered a private plane to come see me?”

His gaze is latched to my mouth while my body is weighted on one of his hands. Leveraging the wall for support, he brings his other hand to my mouth. Caressing my cheek, he runs the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. The pressure is gentle with a commitment to more. My breathing deepens just seeing the intention in his eyes, my heart racing like he did on that track today. “I missed your mouth so fucking much. Your eyes when they stare into mine with the same hunger that has me wanting to fuck you so hard right now.” Glancing down, he sports a wry grin. “Those tits. I’ve gotten off from the memory of them, but I need the real thing again. I need you, babe.”

“You flew ten hours to have sex with me?” I don’t mean to sound irritated, but I’m so wound around him that I can’t grab anything that makes sense.

“Do you hate me?” The question comes as a challenge, and he doesn’t move a muscle as he waits for my answer.

“God, no.” I run my fingers eagerly through his hair. “That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” I smash my mouth into his, and our lips part, our tongues greeting as if it’s been years and not days or weeks. Nothing is tentative as we twist, curve, and caress each other’s mouths.

Pulling back once more, he investigates the living room ahead. “Bedroom?”

“Door on the right.” He’s already moving, pushing open the door and charging into the dark room. The light from the living room reaches far enough to find the bed.

As soon as he sets me down on the mattress, he’s tugging his shirt off. He’s a masterpiece made for display, a man made of marble muscle and a perfect specimen to inspire artists and my tongue.

Is it wrong to want to lick him, to smell him, to drag my nails over his hard abs? The instinct to own him as much as he owns me grows wildly in my chest as if he’s planted the seeds himself.

I bounce to my feet, then tug down the hideously unattractive and holey, guacamole-stained sweatpants I’m wearing. When I lift the Beacon University T-shirt, tortilla chip crumbs sprinkle over my feet. Yeah, not embarrassing at all. “Maybe a little warning next time please.”

Judging by the look in his eyes, I’d say stained clothes and crumbs are the last thing this man cares about. “And miss this? Catching you in your natural habitat.” He chuckles. “Never.”

Shame should have me apologizing, but this is me on my days off, which aren’t many. “I haven’t showered today.”

“I can’t wait to taste you then.” Why is that so hot? My bra clasp is released, but then he stops. Reaching forward, he cups my breasts, then dips down to lick one nipple until it’s pert and then the other. A quick blow of cool air breezes over the peaks, hardening them even more. All I can do is hold his shoulders as my head swims from the deliciousness.

The sides of my undies are dragged slowly over my hips and to my ankles. With tan muscles and broad shoulders exposed, the fly of his jeans is left open. Cash kneels, then dips his nose between my legs with a deep inhale.

It’s naughty and intense, sensuous, and draws me closer to him—physically and emotionally. He’ll take me as I am, appreciating all of me as if every part and side is beautiful to him.

When I look down to watch, his eyes are already set on mine. Dragging two fingers between my need for him and my lower lips, he teases me. “You’re so wet for me, babe.”

Bending, I cup him by the jaw and kiss him. “I’m so everything for you, babe,” I whisper when we part again.

I don’t hide myself while standing naked before him this time. There’s nothing but desire in his eyes when he looks at me. I feel sexy and revered when I’m with him. The need to make him feel just as incredible is strong within me.

Taking his hands, he stands. I hold one and change places with him. “I want your clothes off,” I say, using his words for my benefit. “Will you do that for me?”

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