Page 102 of The ABCs of You & Me

She murmurs something in her sleep, and her ass moves against me again. I tighten my hold and drop a kiss to her shoulder. “Foster.” The gravel in her voice doesn’t help my situation.

“Yeah, sunshine?” I whisper in case she is actually still asleep.

“Fuck me awake.” The rasp in her voice is still there, but her intention is very clear when her hand lands on top of mine and drags it down her body.

I sink my fingers into her and she relaxes in my arms, little moans of pleasure mixed with murmurs. “You touch me so right.” “I love what you do to me.” “Yeah, like that.”

When I roll away I hear the little harumph of disappointment and knowing she wants me back right fucking now is not going to make this a slow and sensual awakening.

The box of condoms that had been in the bathroom is now spilled on the bedside table, all decorum lost in the heat of the moment when we’d gone to bed last night.

I set a land speed record putting one on before rolling back to where Sophie remains.

“This is gonna be fast.”

“Good,” she says, raising her leg and draping it over mine so I can slide closer.

She gasps as I push in easily. “You’re so ready for me.” I nip her shoulder. “I like that you were ready for me, sunshine.”

“Always,” she sighs. “Make me feel you all day,” she challenges.

I answer by speeding up my hips and my hand, adjusting speed and forcefulness according to the sounds she’s making.

“Fos—” My name dies on her lips as she breaks apart in my arms and I’m already thinking about putting her back together so I can watch her shatter again as I finally give in to the sensation that’s been building since I woke up.

Pete’s fifty feet ahead of me on our first training run. He told me this morning that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to enter a race this year, but maybe next. I agreed that planning for the future would probably yield better results. Then he’d taken off, leaving me in his dust as he shouted over his shoulder.

My night and morning with Sophie seemed to have zapped my energy. Not that I’m complaining. I can’t wait to miss the opera with her again. I made coffee and some toast while she showered, working up the nerve to ask her to come to my dad’s party. I expected a no since it was such late notice, but she’d said yes before the words had even left my mouth. She’d admitted that Cass had given her a heads-up that I may be asking so she’d made sure her night was free.

“Hey, Mr. Walsh.” Pete’s voice breaks me out of the memory. “Stop daydreaming and move your butt.”

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to the guy trying to help you, ya know,” I call back but pick up my pace so I’m only a couple feet behind him.

“When we get back to my house,” he pants. “can you stay for lunch? My mom is making tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Weird sandwich for someone who can’t eat dairy.”

“It’s not dairy,” he assures me.

“Goat?” He shakes his head. “Nut?” He nods.

“She buys it from the store because she said she doesn’t have time to milk her own nuts.” I snort, and Pete looks up at me like I’ve lost it. “What?”

“Oh, nothing, just thought of something funny.”

“Milking nuts?”

“Yeah,” I admit.

“Mr. Walsh?”

“Pete McGee?”

“If nuts don’t have…ugh…” He mimes breasts, and I have to bite my tongue. “How do people get milk from ’em?”

“How do you think?” I can’t resist digging into this a bit more. I’m fascinated by Pete’s imagination.

He stops, and I watch his face scrunch up in thought. “I think… I think they rub them like this.” He rubs his forefinger and thumb together really fast, his mouth set in determination. “And then it turns into a powder and um…”

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