Page 36 of Falling for the Pucking Bad Boy

“God, Wells, I love that,” I mewl, urging him on because he knows exactly what to do to get me closer.

It’s as if he’s read a book about me a million times just to learn.

He continues with what’s working for me. And it doesn’t take long.

I’m breaking apart before Wells unleashes his impatience on me. Each propel of his hips hits deeper, sending my orgasm into another flurry of uncontrollable lust.

Wells is something else altogether for me, and I’m not sure how to break it down, but it’s dangerous. Each movement he makes is with intention, and it doesn’t take long before I feel Wells let go, too. Each forceful thrust reminds me of the desire he has for me. We have a chemistry that defies reason. I can’t put my finger on it, but it's the kind of danger I'm unable to resist.

“Fuck me, Snowflake,” Wells mutters in the crook of my neck. “I need a second before I can see straight to drive.”

Laughter bursts from my throat as I thread my fingers through his soft hair. “Aren’t you supposed to be known as a playboy?”

“I haven’t fucked someone that hard in a long time,” he claims. “Since you, baby.”

A bit of doubt fills my head, but I quickly shove it away with the rest of my guilt.

This is our moment.

I won’t allow the world to ruin it and split it into two.

“Now you’re saving yourself for me,” I tease before Wells pulls his face from the safe spot he was just in and looks up at me with those lucid green eyes.

“Of course I am. I thought I made that clear.”

“For how long?” I push back. “Because I’m not—”

“I planned on not scaring you with the fine details of that question. However, I can mention them if it sets your mind at ease.” I open my mouth to ask him what they are, but he offers them anyway.

“Forever.”

Shit.

That’s a long-ass time.

And I do want these moments. More than anything, I’ve wished for in a long time. However, I just stumbled back into reality, and the aftermath of our fucking didn’t last that long for some reason.

Maybe it’s because of all the noises outside of the SUV.

Or that I’m coming to my senses.

Regardless, I’m not appreciating the unease I suddenly feel at the realization that I’m getting too deep, too fast.

“See,” he muses with a slight smirk, generating a twinkle in his eyes. “I told you it’d scare you off.”

I lift my chin proudly because I refuse to show that off. “I’m not scared.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

Wells stares at me briefly before dipping his head in acknowledgment. “Okay then. Are you ready to head back to the hotel?”

I am.

I want to spend as much time with him as possible in Chicago, but I’ll need to leave tomorrow night.

“What time do you have practice?”

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