Page 16 of Love You Too

Our chemistry was good back in college, but it’s nothing compared to now. I’m panting, begging for more. And when he slides down my body and peels off my pants, every part of me begins to hum beneath his strong hands.

And his mouth.

I stiffen up again, ready to explain that it’s been a long time since someone’s gone down on me, but the words die in my throat as his tongue strokes slowly up my center, and I forget all about warning him that I might not be able to come this way. I stop thinking about anything at all except for how good this feels.

And that’s all it takes. A momentary separation between me and my brain. Now, all I feel is Ren touching me in places that I was pretty sure had gone dormant from lack of use. It takes me less than a minute for every pleasure center in my body to erupt at once.

For the first time in years, I relax.

CHAPTER 6

Ren

What she couldn’t possibly know isthat for all her feisty banter, the hottest thing about Beatrix is that she’s given me a goal. A mountain to climb. Something formidable to conquer.

I’m an athlete down to my bones, and nothing gets me going like a challenge.

Getting her to the finish line and scoring an O becomes my only reason for being. And I’m gonna enjoy the fuck out of it.

“You okay there?” I ask as she lies heaving on her back with an arm over her eyes, motionless. “You are alive, yes?”

Beatrix nods, still not removing her arm. “So alive. So very, very alive.”

I chuckle at her lack of filter. It’s the only time she resembles the girl I knew in college. I like this version. A lot.

The other one…well, I’ll just focus on the one murmuring unintelligible things about how good I am in bed. At least, I think that’s what she’s saying.

Beatrix rolls onto her side and drops her arm. Her eyes are glass, jaw slack. Still in an orgasmic haze. So pretty this way. “Ren, you do not disappoint. I think I experienced nirvana there for a second.”

She pushes up to sitting and starts to bundle her hair into the rubber band around her wrist. I shake my head. “Oh no, you’re not done yet.”

“What? Why?”

“For starters, I didn’t give you what you came for.” I work my pants down my legs and watch her watching me. She stares as I give my cock a few strokes, and her lips part.

She turns a gorgeous shade of scarlet and re-tucks her hair behind her ears even though there’s nothing to tuck. Then she pulls the rubber band out and gathers her hair into a fist, twisting it until it’s tighter than her personality, and loops the band around it. I’m dying to reach over and pull the rubber band away entirely. And…fuck it. I scoot closer and reach my hand for her, watching her eyes widen with surprise as I outline her lips with my finger. I guide her chin so her eyes fix on mine and go utterly glassy.

Grazing her cheek, my hand continues its journey, slipping into her hair. I grab the ponytail in a fist and tug it so her mouth lines up perfectly with mine. She sucks in a breath, and I kiss her hard, letting her know that I’m nowhere close to done with her.

I pull the rubber band from her hair, which spills over her shoulders. It’s kinked in places from the rubber band, messy. “Better.”

“You’re not being helpful.” Her voice is lazy and unconvincing.

“Kinda seems like this is exactly the help you need.”

She sighs and relents, putting a hand on my arm and squeezing. “We always had good chemistry.” She can barely get the words out.

I curl a finger and beckon her closer as I move to reclineagainst the pillows. She crawls toward me, and I pull her on top of me, taking her full weight before flipping us over again. “We have fucking great chemistry,” I say, eyes boring into hers. She nods.

Pushing my hand into her hair, I sink against her mouth. No more banter, no hesitation. Just want answering want, need battling against need. I can’t touch her in enough places to satisfy my urges, but I’m going to damned well try.

She responds to each touch and caress like I’m pulling shackles from her body, and I’m high on the power—sure, I crave a measure of control, but getting her to fucking relax feels like more of a victory than anything else.

When she looks up at me with fire in those pale blue eyes, I know she’s done pretending to give two shits about fabric or my renovation.

Good. It’s exactly the way I want it. “You’re mine, Trix. You’ve always been mine.”

She bites my jaw—hard. “Except, you left. Jerk. And I belong to no one.” The sting of her words is blunted by the smirk on her face. A firm reminder that this is one and done. I’m not getting her back. That’s not what this is. I’m providing a service, and I’m not forgiven for anything. I hate it because I already want so much more from her, and I already know I’d give her my heart if she asked.

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