Page 7 of Single Dad Panther's Best Friend Romance

We’re making love.

Call me a silly, melodramatic fool if you want but we’re making love.

His mouth pulls away and he stares down at me with a damned… well, I can’t describe it. I look up and can’t believe this is Preston I’m with. He stares down at me and his gaze is blurred with lust, but it’s also something more, and it’s that something more, something deeper that makes this whole thing, well, deeper.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that my body isn’t feeling pretty out of control and wildly wonderful. As Preston increases his speed, I feel my orgasm picking up steam again. I think about grabbing the pillow. Instead, I move with him and grip the sides of the bed with one hand and the headboard with the other so I can have more leverage to lift my hips and meet each of his thrusts.

I’ll just need to focus on not screaming.

I start repeating that in my head, sort of. I start screaming inside my mind what I might scream in reality. I start a mantra in my head with each thrust. Give me more, give me more. Okay, so I would never scream it like that. Then, as he starts to thrust faster and deeper, I lose my inside voice and go completely for the outside scream. “Oh fuck, yes, Preston! More! Give me more!”

I only get out, “Oh, Fuck!” before my face is covered with the pillow. He doesn’t do that. I do. If I’m so quick to grab the pillow, that means we’re meant to be together, right? I mean, it shows that I’m naturally able to handle keeping his son asleep right?

Yeah, that’s a stretch. Any sexually active teenage girl who doesn’t want her parents to hear her knows how to do what I just did.

Sorry.

The important thing, though, is that even if I cover up my scream, Preston gets the hint. He puts a hand beneath my ass and lifts me to him. I reach up and pull him down to me. We press closely to each other and then, he rolls us so I’m on top. He’s covered by the pillow so I snatch it up and throw it away from us. His hands grip my hips and I sit up and start to rock my body on top of him.

Then, he pulls me down hard as he thrusts up into me and I feel his cock throb as his body shakes. He tries to keep hold of me, so his fingers dig into me, but I hardly notice as my own orgasm crashes over me again. Every bit of me becomes hypersensitive as this second wave of pleasure makes me bite my lip to keep from yelling.

I move like crazy.

Like… what’s that thing people always say? Possessed. That’s it. I move like a woman possessed. I move like crazy and I have my lips pressed so tightly together to keep from making noise. I can’t help but let out a long, buzzing sort of whine while we stare at each other.

I don’t slow down or anything. I just stop. I mean, it’s like my body gives out and I just go limp, falling over his body. I just stop altogether. Well, the part of me I can control does, anyway. I can feel my pussy clenching and unclenching repeatedly. I don’t know how long it lasts but I know I want to scream and moan more than I can ever recall before.

I think Preston resists his need to make noise with matched intensity as we let our climaxes or the aftereffects run through our bodies without waking Joel. In some ways, it’s that tremulously held silence that makes things a thousand times more incredible than they might otherwise be.

My whole body rises and falls with his ragged breathing. It’s strangely romantic and I come back to the idea of making love versus fucking in my mind. Does one have to exclude the other?

As I rest my head on his shoulder and settle my body against his, I drift away thinking I know the answer.

No. They are not exclusive of each other. Not when you’re with the right person.

And I think, in this instance, I’m definitely with the right person. I’m with the one person who can make me feel loved and cared for, the person who can always make me feel safe.

But I’m also with the one person who can fuck me so hard I can barely see straight.

Really, I don’t know if there needs to be one or the other. I’m feeling incredibly lucky to have had both just now.

And I’m working very, very hard to ignore the real possibility that tomorrow I’ll have neither. To be honest, I’m terrified I’ll wake up in the morning alone in this bed.

Chapter Five

Preston

I’m not sure how to feel.

All right, that’s bullshit. I feel incredible. With Liz’s body against mine, I wonder how in the world I went almost four years without recognizing how beautiful the girl is. How in the world did it never cross my mind to sleep with her.

I’m closer to Liz than any other person I know. I’m certainly closer to her than any other non-shifter, so I really don’t understand how in the world it never occurred to me that there was compatibility in our relationship that went beyond friendship.

I’d love to say that I was just too careful, that I didn’t want to risk messing our relationship up. The problem is that even though I would like to say I was too careful; I know it would be a pure bullshit thing for me to say. I wasn’t too careful. I wasn’t afraid of the risk.

Until a very short while ago, I never looked at Liz as someone with whom I could have anything other than a completely platonic relationship. I never considered Liz someone more thana friend. I don’t know exactly how except maybe just because I knew her when she was just a teenage kid. Maybe that set her up as untouchable in my mind.

And then, she was so helpful and wonderful when my wife became my ex-wife that I just didn’t think about her in any other light. She was someone I could rely on, someone who didn’t play games or… Well, she wasn’t my wife is pretty much the point. She wasn’t my wife and she was just, what, seventeen?

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