Page 33 of Boats, Moats, & Root Beer Floats

“That good?” I teased as he groaned into my shoulder.

Then his mouth found my nipple and I couldn't talk any more at all. His tongue twirled around the bud as I rubbed myself against him, and his thumb found my clit.

A few brushes was all it took for me to arch in his arms, his name tearing from my lips as I coated his cock before he even filled me. Not that I had a chance to recover. Before thepulses stopped, he notched at my entrance and pushed me down onto him. My wail etched into the stone castle walls as he set a punishing pace, slamming me down onto him, thrusting up from below.

My nails rent red marks along his chest as I scrambled for purchase, but I could barely think. “Too much,” I cried, my head tilting back as he sucked on my other nipple.

“No such thing,” he growled back before returning to his task.

My pussy gripped his cock tight, the overwhelming crash of my last orgasm buffeting into the next. Heat flushed me as I slumped against his body. I rode out my pleasure on his cock, rocking my hips to eke the last of my orgasm from my shaking body as he held me up.

“Damn, Lindy. We’re gonna do that again,” he promised me, sliding his tongue into my mouth before I could argue with him. “All the time I have with you.”

And we did.

CHAPTER TWELVE

COVIN

A day after I shared a blanket with the woman I had given my heart to for the first time in a decade, I broke her.

Or more aptly, I broke us.

But that didn’t happen until the day after Christmas, and so that memory of making love together for hours in her bedroom thankfully, would remain intact.

While everything else we garnered shattered like so much pristine powder on Christmas morning.

Lies, mistruths and utter bullshit. I dealt in that quagmire for so long that I forgot how to be real with someone, why I promised Sarah I would leave it all in the first place.

It wasn’t just for the safety of us and our growing family. The things that she foresaw would destroy us came from bitter seeds planted deep within me that I couldn’t escape even now.

The resounding boom on the castle door was the rude awakening that I fucked up on a massive scale come December twenty-six. We had graduated to my bed after migrating the blankets from hers and used up the meagre supply of firewood there. Al set us a fire in my room, and rattled something that made a decent enough noise to alert us to his service thoughhis presence was gone before we entered. Lindy wrapped in blankets head to toe while I couldn’t care less about the specter whose sexuality I suspected swung in the other direction anyway.

His generosity as we invaded his ancestral home made my betrayal all the worse, in the end. Especially when, after all was said and done, he was the one who kept me company through the oncoming darkest of days.

But then perhaps he knew just how I felt.

“Who the hell is that?”

Lindy rubbed sleep from her eyes, raising her head from where she curled on my chest like a bed-mussed kitten. Her lips and cheeks were stained the same color, either from too many kisses, sex or heat as the room overflowed with warmth, or a combination of all of the above.

“Who cares.” I drew her up my body, sliding my tongue along her bottom lip, groaning when she opened for me. I’d never get used to the easy warmth of her, the sweet taste that lingers at the back of my tongue reminding me part of her would reside with me forever.

She wriggled as the booming continued. “Covin?—”

“Fuck. Them,” I enunciate clearly, rolling us over and spreading her legs with my knees as I pressed to her heat, always ready and welcoming. “Love, this is our holiday. Nothing matters, except?—”

“Covin, man. Where the hell are you?”

“That,” I muttered as gravity took ahold. “Fuck.” I swore a lot more while Lindy looked on.

“Who followed you here?” she asked quietly.

It took me a moment to piece together the reference. “It’s not work. Either sort,” I added when her eyes narrowed on me. “It’s—” Hell, how did I explain this? “I might have phoned a friend.”

She just looked at me as my joke fell flat.

For the first time around her, I felt out of place. Maybe because I knew I’d screwed up and I wasn't sure how to fix this one. Grabbing my discarded pants I’d thankfully brought with my from the other room, I threw them on and grabbed a shirt. “Stay here. I’ll fix this,” I promised, with no clear idea of how I would fix anything.

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