Page 137 of Never Forever

Slowly, together, we recovered. He pressed his forehead to mine and he kissed my lips a thousand times.

It was as good as it had ever been between us and a million times better.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. “Did I hurt you?”

I didn’t have an answer. Not a good one. My body was nothing but aftershocks of pleasure and a kind of cavewoman satisfaction. Mine. My man. The father of my child.

But my heart, my sensible once burned Piedmont heart made out of granite and curses – was terrified.

“Carrie?” he asked, lifting his head.

“I’m good,” I said, kissing him in case my words didn’t convince him.

All I could do was hold on tight and hope it was true.

31

Matt

When I woke up, we were tangled up in the blankets. Carrie was pressed against my side and an icy cold chill was sweeping through the house. The wind still battered the windows and the fire was nothing but embers.

Carrie’s cold nose was buried against my side.

My heart swelled so hard, so fast, it hurt. Last night… last night had been amazing. Slightly terrifying. Perfect.

The way the storm was still rattling, it looked like I would have another night with her. To prove to her that she could trust me. Not just with her body.

I eased out of our nest of blankets, pulled on my sweatpants and crept out to the back porch to get more wood. Some of it was damp but there was enough dry stuff under a tarp that we’d be okay until the storm broke.

Trapped in a storm with Carrie Piedmont.

If I couldn’t get her on my side by the end of this, I wasn’t trying hard enough.

I built the fire up and went back to the kitchen to see what we were dealing with. Not much. But I’d brought some provisions. Her favorite bagels and cream cheese and that expensive fizzy water she used to buy herself as a treat when we were in high school. Some deli meat and a box of treats from Bobette and Belle. I started the coffee pot, put two scones on a plate and grabbed our books.

In the parlor she was awake, her face creased with sleeping bag marks. Her eyes hazy.

“Hey,” I said and lifted the scones. “Hungry?”

“Later. Take off your pants,” she said and pulled down the blankets, revealing her breasts. Her nipples pebbled from the cold or from desire, I wasn’t sure I cared. Her voice was deep and crackly from sleep. “I want you again,” she said, her legs restless under the blankets.

Well, then.

I put the plate and books on the mantle and shucked my pants. Hard, already.

“Matt,” she whispered at the sight of my hard cock. I cupped it in my hand and she licked her lips. This girl. This woman.

I stroked myself again.

“Come here,” she whispered, reaching out her hand. I fell to my knees beside her, my hands slipped under the covers to her warm body. Her sweet skin. I palmed her ass in my hand, shifted her leg so my fingers brushed the heat of her pussy. So wet already. Like she’d been dreaming of this.

Of me.

She wrapped her hand around my dick, stroked me slowly but haphazardly. Then she was distracted by my balls. Then cum leaking out of the head. She leaned up on an elbow, kissed my belly, then laid back down.

“You going to focus?” I asked her.

“I can’t. I want to come too much,” she said. I’d never seen her so demanding. It lit me up. I made my way between her legs, stretching her legs out so I could get up close and personal with her pussy.

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