Page 72 of Lucky Strike

Her breath hitches, and she comes so hard she’s actually quiet, head thrown back, back bowed, her pussy throbbing rhythmically around my fingers. Sliding back up her quivering body, I lick into her mouth, letting her taste how sweet she is for me. She pulls at the hem of my t-shirt until I sit back on my knees and take it off. Not waiting, she wiggles out of hers, showing me her perfect tits, her nipples a cinnamon brown against the dark, tawny gold of her skin. I suck one into my mouth, savoring its texture and taste, pulling it into a stiff peak. Her hands roam over my shoulders and down my back, touching, exploring, and I reciprocate, getting to know her curves all over again, savoring the sensations.

Bria’s body is a wave undulating at sea, bringing the most visceral memories to surface. Memories of fooling around as kids, of kisses in swimming pools, back seats and forests, her first time. I might’ve taken her virginity, but she took my heart, and I’m starting to wonder if—all these years later—she still has it.

I wander over to her other breast, tonguing her nipple.Maybe this can be a compromise between love and just sex. Something in between.Dragging myself away from her, I climb off the bed and stare down at her. “Do you want this?”

“Yes,” she says, reaching for me. I take off my sweatpants and come back to her, covering her with my body. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you,” she murmurs, running her thumb over my lips. Her words seize my heart, and I hesitate at her trust, at the gravity of what we’re about to do. It’s not just fucking, no matter how much I wish it was. I kiss her,losing myself in how essential her mouth feels until she reaches down between us, pushing me back. “Wait … do you have anything?”

“Yeah, hold on.” I drop one more kiss on her mouth before reaching for my pants on the floor.

She watches, breathing shallowly, as I roll on the condom. And then I sink into her slowly, a wave of pleasure rolling through me as we start to move together. Her legs wrap around my body, locking me in place, and I shiver when she whispers my name, her nails scratching gently at my back like I belong to her. She’s so hot she burns, slick and tight as she pulls me in deeper and deeper. “I thought about this all the time after we broke up,” I whisper between kisses, slowing down because I’m already getting close, and I don’t want it to end. “I wanted to be inside you just like this.”

“Me, too,” Bria says, and the thought of her wanting to fuck, even back then, brings me dangerously close to the edge.

I fill her mouth with my tongue, touching and tasting every part of it: her tongue, her teeth, the roof of her mouth. She laps indulgently back, allowing me to dominate her for just a second before she becomes the aggressor. I slide my hand beneath her thigh, opening her wider, grunting when my hip bones smack the inside of her thighs. It’s slow and deep and I lose time, overwhelmed by the five senses of fucking Bria. Her silky skin, her almond eyes, locked on mine. The salt and sweat of her skin, the vague scent that’s always been just her beneath the lotion she wears. Her desperate breaths and moans, getting higher and more frantic as she begins unraveling again.

Sex is always good, but this …. is sublime.

She’s the sea, wild and warm and wet, and I’m her sailor, tumbling overboard into the most exquisite oblivion. It washes over me, cascading through my body, from my cells to my nerve endings. My eyes squeeze shut because she feels too good, but I force them open, looking down at her. She’s looking up at me, too, her hands reaching for me, her mouth moving as she says something I can’t hear.

This girl was always meant to be mine. It hits me with alarming sureness. I'll never let her go again. No matter what happens in this life, I'll always come back to her. Just like she came back to me. Slipping out of her, I ease to her side, my heartbeat starting to slow down. I kiss her shoulder, ghosting my fingertips over her supple breasts, the vague curve of herbelly. She draws me closer, her hair a fluffy halo around her flushed cheeks.

“See.” She smooths her hand over the side of my face and down my neck with a gentleness that makes my throat tighten. “I do like sweet things.”

19.Bria

Now

Idid not expect Lucky and I to get so close when he came to Cape Cod, so close we ended up making love in my bed. And I did not expect it to be the emotional tsunami it was, crashing against my walls and obliterating them into tiny pieces. That’s how he leaves me: wrecked. But I’ve loved him forever, so I guess I can’t berate myself too much for giving in so easily. Even after everything that’s happened, he’s always been able to get at me like no one else can. And when he kisses me again after just a little while, pulling me closer like he can’t get enough of me, I welcome it. I gorge myself on it. I crave him, his body, how he makes me feel. My body, my heart.

But I kick him out of my bed before he can fall asleep. Liam still comes into his room at night sometimes, and he’d be upset if he couldn’t find him. It would be even worse if he wandered into my room and saw us together. I’m not sure what we’re doing, myself. I don’t need the added pressure of explaining it to an almost five-year-old.

My French toast is different than Nola’s but just as good. In the morning, I whip up an enormous batch for everybody in the house, complete with fresh fruit and real whipped cream. It’s good to stay busy. Lucky could announce any minute that he’s heading back to the city, soI need to remember why I’m really here. He might miss me, and want me and damn, the sex wasfantastic, but at the end of the day we all have our priorities and responsibilities and far be it from me to get in the way of his.

But he’s all over me from the moment he wakes up, pushing my hair aside so he can drop kisses on my neck, spreading his hands over my hips like he did last night when he was inside me. I’m still wet for him, my nipples sore from his teasing, but I try to temper my responses. Shelby’s scratching at the door to go out, and Terry and Mitch are wandering around and Liam’s a room over, asking very loudly if he can have cranberry juice and orange juice mixed together,please.

“Sure, buddy,” I call back, giving Lucky a quick peck on the lips to appease him.

“That’s it?” he teases, falling into a chair at the kitchen table. “I must be losing my charm.”

Rolling my eyes, I retrieve the juice from the fridge. “Did you want to get it on right here in the kitchen?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

I look back in time to catch him adjusting himself. “Lucky,” I laugh. “Wow.”

“It’s that thing you’re wearing,” he says weakly, gesturing toward the strappy, blue romper I put on this morning.

Liam joins us, hopping onto the chair beside his dad’s. “I love French toast, Dad. It’s my favorite.”

Lucky arches an eyebrow. “Oh, I know.”

“Bria is making it for me because I’mherfavorite.”

“You are, huh? I thought Bacon was her favorite.”

Bacon springs up at the sound of his name, wagging his tail hopefully. “Sorry, no treats today,” I tell him. “This is too sweet for you.”

“No such thing. That dog will eat anything,” says Lucky. “He ate part of my sneaker once, when he was a puppy.”

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