Page 117 of Break Your Fall

I flush and force myself to look up. Once I do, I see Tommy’s looking at me the same way.

“You’re really trying to kill me,” he breathes as his gaze lingers over my dress.

I move into him, my fingers crawling up his chest to his shoulders. “You can take it off me after. If you want,” I tease.

His hands find my elbows and guide my arms up around his neck. “I want,” he says close to my mouth, then kisses my smile. I melt into him as his lips part with mine, our tongues meeting in the middle.

I pull back with a sigh, a smile back on my lips as I capture his stare. “You,” I say, hearing the awe in my voice.

He laughs, a light pink tinging his cheeks. “Me.”

I thread my fingers through his hair, bringing his mouth close to mine again. “I’m so happy.”

Tommy shakes his head, an awe on his face now before he kisses me again, this one deeper, filled with the passion and urgency I’ve come to know and love with him. It’s this kiss that tells me we’re going to be late to the wedding.

“I want—now,” he says, pulling back just enough to plea the words, before his mouth is back on mine, his hands gripping my hips as he whips us around.

He backs me up against the wall and drops to his knees before I take my next breath. His hands snake under my dress, gliding up my thighs until his thumbs are hooked around the edges of my panties. He yanks them down my legs and I eagerly lift my feet, my breathing hitched, my eyes fixed to his movements, my body ready for the next one as he tosses the panties to the couch. My dress is hiked up in the next second, my leg is lifted over his shoulder, and his mouth is on me—warm, wet, so good.

Tommy doesn’t give me the sensual, slow-building climax of the first time. Of the second time, of the third time, of the fourth time. This time, he’s dirty and devouring. His hands hold me up, my hands pulling on his hair as I ride my orgasm, coming so fast and so hard, I can barely make a sound.

He brings my leg back down, making sure I’m okay to stand as I relax against the wall and catch my breath before he hurries off toward the bedroom. When he comes back with a condom, I pull him to the bar before he can attempt to take us to a more comfortable spot.

“Here,” I say, my voice rough as I hop back onto the bar. I spread my legs and he immediately fills the space as my hands work the button on his pants.

I want Tommy here. On this bar. Dirty. Showing me what else he has in him.

He finishes the job for me, freeing himself as he slides the condom on. One hand then tilts me back while the other pulls me to the edge of the bar. My hands splay out behind me, and when he pushes inside me, my head falls back on a moan, my fingers digging into the marble.

His thrusts are deep, rocking me against the cool surface, and I whip my head back up to watch his face, the pure ecstasy there as he pumps into me, his grip tightening on my hips.

When he’s close to coming, I see it in his gaze, those hazel eyes, darkened with desire, asking for my permission. My nod is quick, our breaths building at the same pace as he thrusts faster, coming apart as hard as I did.

“I’ll never get enough of this,” he rasps into my neck, leaning into me after, the words hot and heavy on my skin.

“Good,” I say with a laugh before breathing a small tease into his ear. “Because I want this at least one more time before we leave.”

Tommy’s grip tightens on my hips as he swoops me off the bar to the couch, dropping to his knees again, andOh, God, we’re definitely going to be late.

37

We Made It

Reyna

The ceremony is in full swing as Tommy and I arrive on the sand. We cleaned up, straightened our outfits, and you can barely tell why we’re late. I smile at the flush on his cheeks, smaller now, still fading, as he holds my hand and stares out at the waves.

I haven’t even checked my phone to see if my mother has asked about my whereabouts or has worried about my absence.

I smile again, proud of myself.

And I’d like to avoid the temptation tospeak nowif the man performing the wedding says thehold your peaceline.

“So, this is how we’re basically ending our summer,” I say. “With my mother having officially lost her mind.”

Tommy laughs, then says, “She already lost her mind.” His tone is acknowledging of me and I smile as he squeezes my hand.

My eyes travel the filled seats out ahead of us—some people I recognize, some people I don’t. People really love a wedding, enough to attend one for a stranger, or for someone they only know through gossip, for someone they don’t even like.

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