Page 83 of The Foul Out

“Yes,” I rasped. “Look at me. Watch the man making your body ignite.”

I continued teasing her, circling the sensitive flesh around her nipples, flicking the buds into sharp points, all while meeting every motion of her hips again and again. Her tits bounced with every thrust. And in her eyes, her pleasure matched my own.

With each movement, with every roll of our hips, we were building into something more. The connection was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The desire, the emotion reflecting back at me, was so new, yet also familiar, because the same feelings were coursing through me. An animalistic need snapped inside me, and I pistoned up hard and faster, brutal in my need to fuck her, claim her, own her.

Her legs quivered as her pussy gripped me like a vise, and her breaths came in pants until finally she exploded around me.

“Kyle.” She dug her nails into my shoulders, no doubt leaving marks. “Oh my God.”

“Fuck, Harper.” I came like a bomb had detonated, sending pleasure rocketing through my body. Desperate to hold on to this moment, I rocked up into her again and again until after what seemed like forever and yet not long enough. Finally, I collapsed against the sofa, pulling her with me, as the last pulses of pleasure rocked me.

She rested her head against my shoulder, her body melting against mine despite how fast her breaths still came. I wasn’t in the best position for cuddling, but in this moment, I just wanted to hold her. Keep her in my arms and feel her heart pound against my chest. After-care wasn’t my thing. I’d never understood it. Until now. Because with her, I was hit with a sense of security I’d never known. Like this, with her tucked into my body, skin to skin, I’d never been more content. I dipped and lightly kissed her forehead.

She squirmed like she was ready to stand, but I locked her in place with one arm banded around her torso. Typically, this was when I’d bolt. That was what I did. Sex and then head out in search of food.

Instead, I hugged her closer. “Want some tacos?” I asked against her forehead.

“Food?” She pulled back, studying me, that small line forming between her brows again.

Might as well fill her in on one of my quirks because I had plans to do this a few more times.

“Sex makes me ravenous. I always need food right away. Especially after I come so hard I can’t feel my legs.”

She rolled her eyes like I was messing with her. But I wasn’t. About either thing.

“That must be awkward at two a.m.”

I shrugged. I didn’t really want to fight about my somewhat colorful past, but I wanted to be honest with her. “Not really. I’d make a quick escape and then grab something on the way home.”

“What if you bring a woman to your place?” She shook her head. “Do you just sneak out of bed and leave her while you go out for food?”

“No one comes back to my place.” I fought the urge to wince. That comment made me sound like an asshole, but I was determined not to lie or skirt around the truth. What we had was so different from anything I’d ever experienced with another woman, but that didn’t change the past.

“So.” She pulled back, and this time, I begrudgingly allowed her to stand. “Do you want to leave?”

“Nope,” I said simply, heaving myself up. I snagged my shirt and boxer briefs but didn’t bother to put them on. “I want to get rid of this condom and eat tacos with my girl.”

Her eyes popped wide as I headed toward the hall. I didn’t stop. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. She knew what I used to be like. Now I was showing her what I was with her. With a glance back, I tossed her my shirt. “Be right back.”

I was worried she might bring the topic back up when I emerged from the bathroom. Instead, to my relief, I found her sitting at the table, wearing my shirt, with the bags of tacos I’d brought.

“So.” I reached into the bag and pulled out the tacos I’d gotten for her. The ones that didn’t follow her daughter’s diet. “I respect that when you’re with Piper, you have restrictions.”

She huffed, her eyes turning to slits.

“Because,” I said before she could argue, “her diet is very important. It helps her.”

The tightness in her shoulder and jaw eased slightly.

“However. I do think that when you’re not with her, you could work on balance. Live a little.”

I opened the container that housed the tacos with the cheese and sour cream drizzle.

“It’s your call,” I said. “Always. I’m just pointing out that you’re allowed to enjoy stuff.”

She surveyed one taco container, then the other, then picked one of each for her plate. Progress.

I took the seat next to her and picked up my taco. But I paused with it halfway to my mouth, watching her as she pulled her hair into a messy side braid. The buttons of my green henley were open, the garment hanging on her like a tent and the sleeves way too long. Yet she stole the breath from my chest.

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