Page 17 of Beards and Broken Hearts

Do I still love him?

“We were young,” I try to say, as if to lessen the charged moment his words created.

“Made no difference, or I would have been able to get over it. Get over you, and I haven’t.”

Staring at him in disbelief, my heart pulls tight in my chest. Fear is there, but also the same feelings I felt all those years ago. Without thinking, I blurt out the last thing I should admit. “I haven’t been able to move on either. I compare every man to the boy I knew. The one who sang to me to make me smile. Brought me my favorite soda every day and wrote me notes on the sand. The only one ever to touch me.”

I whisper the last part. My cheeks flush as his eyes burn into me. His jaw is tight, and his hands flex against his jeans and the stem of the wine glass.

I take several more sips from mine, needing to cool off.

“Do you remember the game we used to play with soda?” Layton ask. His deep, gravelly voice seems to trace over my skin. Suddenly, the long dress I’m wearing is sweltering.

Instead of answering, I nod. It’s a game I’ll never forget. We made it up in a silly attempt to have an excuse to kiss, but why is he asking? Is it stupid to hope?

Those eyes of his fall to my lips. I feel a drop of wine and go to swipe it away when he catches my wrist and holds it gently, running his thumb over it. An unspoken question lingers in his eyes. One he’s too afraid to ask.

Do I want him to kiss me? Yes, more than anything. So, I play the game.

“Can you guess what kind I’m drinking?”

Within seconds, Layton’s lips are on mine. His fingers sweep into my hair and pull me closer, and I moan at the sense of relief. How long have I been waiting for his kiss? It pains my heart to remember, but at the same time, it makes this moment so much more intense. My lips grow hungry, and I reach for him, spilling his glass on the ground.

The sound of glass breaking echoes through the room, but neither of us dares break the spell. My glass follows with a crash when it hits the ground at our feet. Somewhere in the far back of my brain, I promise to clean it up, but my body is in charge now as I crawl on top of the man I’ve missed for over a decade.

Oh my gosh, he’s already hard. His big length rubs my center as I straddle his lap. A groan reverberates into my mouth, and I can’t help but echo my own.

Layton’s tongue slides against mine as if I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted, and he can’t get enough. We fight for control of the kiss, each biting, licking, and tasting the other. His warm hands snake up my thighs under my dress and grip my ass hard. The control he uses puts the perfect amount of pressure on his erection against my clit, and we both groan at the sensation. My hips shamelessly grind in rhythm, and suddenly, it’s like we’re teenagers again.

All thoughts blur as our bodies take over. Hungry for the feel of each other. Something familiar and yet as thrilling as our first time.

My greedy hands pull at his shirt until he finally breaks the kiss, letting me rip it from his torso and over his shoulder. Layton’s chest is so much broader and covered in soft hair. I rake my hands through it while he works the buttons that run down the front of my dress and pushes it over my shoulders.

He grabs the bottle of wine and takes a drink, pressing his closed lips against mine. The taste on his lips is a delicacy I eagerly press my mouth to. Sucking in his bottom lip and enticing the most erotic groan I’ve ever heard. Layton’s hips jerk upward, and his hands are back on my ass, pulling me closer. I enjoy that sound so much I suck on his lip again, then bite down just hard enough to make him go crazy.

I love knowing he still goes feral when I use my teeth. Before I can bite his neck, he rears back, then pours the fucking wine over my chest. I gasp in surprise, but the sound quickly turns to pure pleasure as his tongue licks up my cleavage to my collarbone. We’re lost in each other. We’re forgetting everything sensible and letting our needs drive our actions instead of good sense. Lapping at my sensitive skin, he drinks me up, all while pulling me hard against his jean-covered cock. My panties are soaked, and if I could catch my breath long enough to speak, I’d be begging for more.

Layton stands with me in his arms as if he knows the words I can’t say. Kissing me and turning us around. Gently, he lays me down on the leather couch and continues to kiss down my body. His fingers work more of the buttons as he moves lower and lower until he has my dress off, then reaches up for my now wine-soaked bra. It’s gone and quickly forgotten as he takes me into his arms. Kissing and sucking on my breasts as I arch into his hungry mouth for more. My core pulses for attention, but at the same time, I don’t want to miss out on anything this man has to give.

His touch feels like an electrical current through my veins, sending need between my legs. That filthy mouth of his trails across my skin and lands on my nipple. I make a loud, unintelligible sound as he sucks it hard.

My hips move against his jeans for friction as I pull his ass closer by my heels. His teeth scrape against my peak in a quick nip, stealing my breath, and then he moves lower, knowing I need more even though I’m incapable of asking.

Layton pulls my thong down my legs and settles at my center with piercing, hungry eyes.

“I’ve waited too damn long for this,” he mutters right before he leans into me.

A shockwave of pure electrical energy shoots through my body, and I loudly moan my thanks. His wide tongue laps up my slit slowly, over and over, teasing and tasting me like a meal he’s savoring. As if my taste is what he’s been starved for.

My hips gyrate shamelessly in need. The vibration of his groan hits every few seconds, making me see fireworks. I scream, “Oh fuck yes! I feel that through my whole damn body.”

Layton places his big hand over my mouth to quiet me and then plunges his tongue inside me, rubbing my clit with his thumb. He doesn’t stop for a single second, and the pressure feels unreal, out of this world. Like my body is in such an intense state, I’m vibrating from the inside out. Then, like fire to a stick of dynamite, I explode. Colors burst behind my closed eyes, and pleasure sweeps through me in waves. I’m breathless, shaking and melting into the couch, and Layton still doesn’t stop. He only slows his rhythm. He licks me softer, as if he can’t bear to miss a drop of my orgasm. It’s nasty, yet the most erotic and sexy thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I haven’t even come down from the high when I’m fantasizing about more.

“Layton,” I whisper, still catching my breath.

My weak arms reach for him, needing him close. Needing more.

Above me, he hovers, looking down at me in awe.

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