Page 40 of New Hope, Old Grudges

Her body relaxed, giving into me instantly.

I laid my lips on hers, claiming her mouth.

She kissed me back without hesitation.

“I’m not done with you yet,” I murmured against her lips, my fingers entering her velvet warmth.

She let out a mew of pleasure, and my cock throbbed.

Yeah, I’d never be done with Willow Watson.

ChapterThirteen

WILLOW

I hadsex with Brody Adams last night.

Fuck.

I had sex with Brody Adams.

Was I high?

First off, he was a cop, so even though marijuana was legal, I didn’t think he was the kind of guy to partake, so no.

Was I drunk?

Two glasses of wine made me tipsy atmost,and they were counteracted by a belly full of Brody’s cooking, so no.

Was I mentally unhinged?

Considering the events of the past month or so … maybe.

That was the only way to explain having sex with him last night.

And this morning?

I was as well rested as I’d been in my life and no longer emotionally reeling from the fight with my family. Nor was I vaguely traumatized from my minor car accident. Yet I’d slept with him. Again.

Had the best sexof my life.

And instead of scampering away once the sex in question was over with, I’d done the unthinkable… I’d obeyed his soft command of, “Go back to sleep,” then let himkiss me on the foreheadbefore snuggling into soft sheets that smelled of him and going back to sleep.

Now it was after ten in the morning, and I was in Brody Adams’s bed. In his cabin in the woods. With his adorable dog lying on top of my feet.

“Shit,” I whispered. I wanted to pull the covers up over my head and try my best to teleport back to my twin bed at my mom’s house. But my bladder had other ideas. And I really needed a better game plan.

So I got out of bed. Told myself I didn’t have a choice but to snatch the flannel off the back of the armchair in the corner of the room to cover my naked body. It was winter, for goodness sakes. Never mind that the house itself was cozy-warm. I inhaled Brody’s scent from the shirt, as if I didn’t smell him all over me. Feel him all over me.

As I used the facilities, my body was delightfully sore—like I’d had some kind of workout. I didn’t work out. I’d gone to Geoff’s fancy gym exactly once where I’d been judged by skinny, glossy women in overpriced leggings then had never gone back.

But I had hurt the next day.

That was the only time in my relationship with Geoff that my body had hurt from physical exertion. We didn’t have sex so intense and so mind-blowing that my limbs ached the next day. Our sex life was vanilla, and I had an orgasm exactly fifty percent of the time.

It was that way with every man I’d been with.

I’d thought that was just how it was. Thought that sex was overly hyped by television and books, written by men to make women feel guilty for not feeling the things they were supposed to, and therefore faking it for men who didn’t go to any effort beyond getting themselves off.

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