Page 82 of First Comes Forever

“Take a breath,” I instruct. Once she does, I tell her to release it, slipping in a second finger as she exhales.

“Oh, fuck,” she groans. “You’re so good at that.”

“Good at what? Fingering you?” Her eyes are closed, riding my hand. My eyes are open, watching the ecstasy on her face.

“Being patient with me. Waiting for my body to respond.” She opens her eyes, making me catch my breath. Sometimes I forget how startlingly pretty she is. I’m used to Amani by now—her sass and snark, the way she sucks in her lips and widens her eyes like a lemur when she’s trying not to laugh at her own joke. But now and then I get a glimpse of her that catches me off guard and reminds me that I have a goddess lying next to me at night.

“Amani, I…”I really want to tell you I love you.But I bite my bottom lip, holding back the words and remembering not to make promises I can’t keep. I think I do, though. I love her. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to trust love again. It took eight years for me to move forward after the first time love failed me. And judging by the way I feel about her, Amani has the power to ruin the rest of my life.

“What?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Can we do this without a condom? I don’t want to mess with your treatment plan.”

She nods. “We’re fine for now. Pelvic rest doesn’t start until after embryo transfer.”

“Oooh, talk dirty to me,” I tease as I pump my fingers faster.

“Yeah, IVF talk isn’t really sexy, is it?” she says with a small laugh as she unbuttons my pants. I bridge my hips so she can pull my jeans and briefs down just enough for my cock to spring free.

“Always so ready for me,” she says.

“Come here,” I murmur, pulling my fingers out of her and pushing my bottoms the rest of the way off. I grip her ass and guide her over my dick. We both groan when she’s seated on top of me, our hips interlocked.

Unable to free her from her complicated top, I grip her tits through the thin blue fabric. I quickly find her piercings through her bra, rubbing my thumbs over the little gems. I hardly think she notices, fully entranced in grinding on me the best she can in the cramped space.

“I’m so, so close,” she murmurs in my ear, riding faster, trying to shift her hips so I’m hitting her favorite spot. “Right there, Adam. Deeper. Like that,” she coos. I love when she talks to me like this. All her secrets, all her fantasies, everything she wants…she’s an open book when we’re together like this.

Goddamn, she’s too fucking good. I can’t last much longer. “Lean back. Hold my legs, I’ve got you.” I spit on my thumb and rub her clit rapidly, trying to make her come before I do. She’s gasping for air like she always does right before she’s about to orgasm. “There you go, baby, you’re so beautiful.”

A little praise is all it takes for her to come undone. She slumps against my chest, biting down on my shoulder as she twitches on top of me. I grab her chin urgently, putting her lips on mine so I can kiss her while I’m spilling inside her.

For a while, we sit silently, our chests pressed against each other so tightly it’s like we’re one body. I roll down the window so the sound of our ragged breathing mixes with the sound of the ocean rolling over the shore. Her hands are in my hair as she places tender kisses on jawline. My hands are on her back, tracing her spine. I chuckle every time I unintentionally tickle her and she flinches.

“Stop it,” she scolds. “You keep tickling me like that and you’re going to make me pop right off of you. Then you’re going to be left with a huge mess in your car.”

“I don’t care.”

She scoffs. “You’re unreasonable about your car’s cleanliness. It’s why I can never eat in here or the Porsche.”

She’s not wrong. It’s a steadfast rule I’ve upheld since I bought my first car—no food or drinks in my vehicles, ever.

“Speaking of which, are you hungry? There’s a little mom-and-pop drive-through nearby that has the best old-fashioned hamburgers and milkshakes.”

“We just ate our body weight in roast and peanut butter pie a few hours ago,” she says.

“Doesn’t answer my question,” I say, raising my brows. “Are you hungry?”

She puckers her bottom lip, looking adorable. “A little,” she admits.

Scooping under her thighs, I guide her off me and help her back into the passenger seat. After pulling up my pants, I fish in the center console for my neatly folded, backup gym towel. “This is clean. Will this work?”

“Perfect,” she says, grabbing the blue towel and wiping between her thighs. “Thank you.”

“So, hamburger? And maybe we can share a milkshake? Unless you don’t want the strawberry cheesecake milkshake, then you’ll have to get your own.”

“You said it’s a drive-through. Where are we going to eat?” she asks.

I gesture to our seats, then point to the cupholders.

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