Page 3 of Pulled Away

My lips have a mind of their own. They trail over his cheek until I’m breathing in his ear, before pulling his earlobe between my teeth. My lips tip in a smile at his shiver.

“I’m the lucky one,” he murmurs, his voice husky.

Sitting up, I trail my eyes over his face, taking in his sharp cheekbones, strong nose, square jaw, and then my favorite feature, his brown eyes I often find myself getting lost in.

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree with that.” Bending forward again, I take his mouth in a long, slow kiss. His lips part as he deepens the kiss, his tongue chasing and tangling with mine. I’ll never get enough of his warm breath on my lips, of the way he tastes, or how his hands restlessly roam my body as if he’s trying to touch me everywhere all at once. Aching for him, I push up slightly and it’s the only invitation he needs, positioning his cock to where it needs to be. We both groan when I slide down on him, and I shiver from the way he stretches me.

“Remind me to thank Rose when we see her again,” I gasp, rotating my hips.

He half groans, half laughs. “I don’t want to talk about my sister right now.”

“I suppose not. Not while I’m riding your cock.”

He grunts, his head falling back, his eyes half-mast while staring at my breasts that are bobbing in the water with my movements.

“It’s a beautiful cock. The best one I’ve ever seen,” I tease.

“The only one you’ll ever see again.” His voice is a growl, his eyes a little wild. Sitting up, he punctuates his statement with an extra hard thrust that makes a puff of air leave my mouth and my toes curl. Tangling a hand in my hair, he wraps his other arm around my waist, keeping me still while he pounds into me. All I can do is wrap my arms around his shoulders and hang on for the ride.

Chapter two

Aspen

Iplop on a chair behind the reception desk with a yawn that’s so wide my jaw cracks.

“How is Henry?” Piper asks, waving at Grace.

“Better. His weight has come down, and I think we’ve got his glucose levels under control.”

When Grace first brought Henry in, he was bordering on obesity, and Julia diagnosed him with diabetes. She put him on a strict diet, but by the next visit, there was no change. Grace said she hated thinking he was hungry, but when Julia tactfully told her that her kindness was in fact killing Henry, she broke down in sobs. Henry was the last link to her husband, who had passed away the summer before, and she didn’t enjoy cooking for one, so every night Henry got a cooked meal.

“That’s good.” Her smile falls the moment Grace can’t see her anymore. “It’s so sad.” She sighs, the corners of her mouth turning down. “Henry is getting old. He won’t be here forever, and what is she going to do then?”

“I know.” I sigh, my sigh mirroring hers.

“So, what are you guys doing tonight?”

“Nothing. Sleep,” I mumble through another yawn.

“Good. It looks like you need it.”

“Are you saying I look like shit?” She’s not wrong, though. With work, studying and my late nights at the rescue, I could sleep for a week.

In answer, she elbows me in the side, chuckling at my squirm. I can’t help it. My sides have always been sensitive, a fact that Ryan has taken advantage of many times since he found out.

“Don’t forget about Saturday night.” This time she pokes me in the side with her pen and my eyes fly open. When did they close? “We promised Maya we’d go.”

That wakes me up a bit. Maya and Nathan are best friends, and Nathan owns a brewpub called Frosty Frogs. On weekends, he has live music, and whenever a new band plays, he asks us to come around to critique. A night of drinks, friends, and hopefully, music that doesn’t suck is just what I need.

“I won’t. We’re looking forward to it. Right,” I say, slapping my hands on my legs, and pushing up. If I sit here for much longer, I’m going to fall asleep for real. “Who’s next?”

“Ugh.” I moan, throwing my textbook on the coffee table. I’m raising a white flag. I’ve read the same paragraph at least five times, and all the words are blurring together. “Do you think I’m wasting my time?”

I sigh, turning to face Ryan. Some days, I wonder if there’s any point in trying to finish my degree. I wanted to become a vet, but my heart’s set on opening up the rescue. And I don’t need a degree to do that. But I don’t know. Not completing it makes me feel like a failure.

“I don’t think it’s a question of wasting your time. It’s more a question of, are you doing it because you want to, or because you feel you have to?” he asks, hitting the nail on the head.

“I don’t like feeling like I’m leaving something unfinished.” I bite my lip, avoiding his eyes.

---