Page 101 of The ABCs of You & Me

Watching him settle between my legs is almost an out-of-body experience. Like I’m watching from the other side of the room. His lips meet mine a half-second before I feel him press against me, and when I tilt my hips he slides in. We both suck in a breath, not releasing it until he’s fully seated.

“Fuck.” The word is so quiet that I’m not even sure I hear him properly.

He’s watching me, studying my reaction, and when I nod the tiniest bit he starts to move, one arm holding him up while the other hooks under my knee. He drops a kiss to my knee before his eyes are on mine again. “You feel so damn good, Soph.”

“Kiss me,” I beg and he acquiesces instantly. His tongue matching pace with his cock, overwhelming me in the most sensational way.

He pulls his lips from me and drops his forehead to mine. “You feel like you were fucking made for me,” he breathes out, as he eases my leg down.

His hands slide up my arms, guiding them above my head, and he holds my wrists in place as his thrusts become more forceful.This. This is what I’ve been missing out on.When I lift my hips, changing the angle, his head drops to my neck, a gasp seizing his body.

“Fucking do that again,” he demands, and so I do, relishing in his unbridled reaction.

Once he appears to gain control of himself again, his hands release my wrists to grip my hips as he sits back on his heels.

Foster’s gaze drops to where he’s fucking me, a look of awe crossing his face. “Sophie?”

“Mm-hmm?” I barely manage to say.

“Touch yourself.”

I slip my hand down my body, enjoying how he watches me, practically losing it when I apply the tiniest amount of pressure. I’ve never come this much in a week, let alone in a day, and my body feels about ready to detonate again.

Those sharp eyes of his don’t miss the slight hitch in my breath or how my thighs tense. A cocky grin appears as he releases my hip in order to pull my hand away, raising my fingers to lips.

Seeing my fingers in his mouth is all I need apparently because a scream from somewhere deep inside explodes out of me and my hand falls onto the bed as he pulls my hips tighter against him, his muscles straining beneath his skin.

He falls forward, panting against my chest. I could die like this, I think. The weight of him, his breath on my skin, the feel of him still inside me.

This is the happiest I’ve ever been.

“It’s blasphemous.” Foster levels me with a look that does not make me think he’s joking.

“It’s delicious,” I argue, dipping my mild buffalo chicken wing into the ranch I had to beg him to add to the order.

“The fact that it’s the default is blasphemous. I’ve come to terms with the fact that people have terrible taste. What I cannot get on board with is that I have to ask for blue cheese, otherwise wings will come with ranch now.”

“Are you from Buffalo?” I ask, licking the ranch off the wing I’m holding so I can distract him from his little rant. His eyes widen, but my efforts are wasted.

“You know I’m not, but I did work with a guy from Buffalo in Korea, and he was as annoyed by it as I was. It’s actually how we became friends,” he says as he dunks his wing into the vat of blue cheese dressing he requested.

Foster’s wearing the hot man’s uniform of only gray sweatpants, and I’m in a pair of his running shorts and the shirt he’d never gotten around to buttoning up. When I’d said it was a poor choice to have me wear it due to my ability to stain any article of clothing with whatever I was eating, he’d said the idea of me staining this shirt while wearing it was too much of a turn-on not to partake in.

So far, I haven’t gotten a speck of anything on it, which is some kind of post-sex miracle.

“Do you have other opinions on buffalo wing-related things, or is it just the dip?”

He lets out a deep sigh. “Don’t even get me started on breaded wings.”

“Oh, they are the worst,” I agree.

“I knew I liked you.”

FORTY-FIVE

FOSTER

I’ve been awake for half an hour, but I can’t bring myself to move. Sophie’s back is pressed to me, the smell of citrus and honey faint in her hair. I hold my breath when she starts to stir, her ass pressing into me the sweetest torture I can imagine.

---