Page 74 of Tackle

“Come here.”

She crawled to him, straddling his lap.

Cupping her face, he stared into her eyes. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He brushed a thumb along the apple of her cheek.

Pulling her to him, he kissed her.

Lips soft and yielding, he took the kiss deeper and her fingers dove into his hair, her nails softly scraping against his scalp, sending a tingle down his spine that went straight to his dick. Yanking down the cup of her bra, he palmed her breast. Squeezed.

She moaned.

“Shush, baby.”

He trailed his lips down her throat, his tongue lapping at her skin. Her fingers gripped his hair, tugging as she pressed into him.

He felt her hand grip him and then she lifted, taking him into her.

He held back a groan as her heat and wetness surrounded him. He palmed her ass, his other hand skimming up the length of her back.

She started to move.

Breathing growing harsh, she planted her face in his neck as she worked him.

His heart was beating out of his chest. He fell to his back, Emerson following, her movements growing frenzied.

Teeth gritted, fingers digging into her hips, he got lost watching her ride him.

Until he exploded. Tipping his head back, white bursts of light zinged behind his lids as his orgasm took control, robbing him of all sense but the euphoric blast hitting him.

Emerson collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around her holding her close.

He combed his fingers through her hair. “Thank you.”

“For?” she mumbled against his neck.

“For being weak in your convictions.”

He heard and felt her chuckle. “If I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d smack you for that.” As it was, she did make a puny attempt to swat his chest.

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, got up to turn off the light, then scooped her up, tucking them under the covers, wrapping her in his arms.

She got comfortable, laying her head on his chest and throwing an arm around his waist and a leg over his thighs.

He was content. Happy. Snuggling her closer, he whispered into the dark, “I’ve decided I’m keeping you. You’re not moving out.”

He waited a beat, and then two. He’d almost thought she’d fallen asleep and hadn’t heard him when she finally muttered, “Well, I guess it would be easier than moving all my stuff back out.”

“Hey, now.” He gave her another squeeze and she laughed.

He fell asleep grinning.

Chapter Twenty-four

The thing about déjà vu is it sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

Those were Emerson’s thoughts when a week after returning from Oz’s mom’s two health inspectors tapped at the front door of her pub.

The same two from before.

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