Page 57 of Friends With Benefits

He slid a hand between them to her clit and stroked it, and she shifted slightly so he could find the perfect spot to rub her. Sliding up and down his shaft, she lifted her hands to her hair, breasts thrust out while sensation spiraled in her, twisting up to an almost unbearable peak.

Flames of pleasure licked over her, hotter, searing her senses. Mitch lifted his other hand to her breast, cupped it, rolled the sensitive nipple between his fingers.

Sensation whipped from nipple to womb and she clenched hard on him inside her. She opened her eyes and gazed down at him, at the masculine pleasure and pain on his face, his eyes dark and hot.

“Come for me, Kerri,” he urged hoarsely, watching her. “Come hard.”

She shifted again against his fingers and tightened everything inside her as the wave broke, weakness sliding down her legs. “Mitch,” she managed to say. “I’m…coming…”

She fell onto him, her body trembling, contracting hard around him, sparkling lights exploding behind her closed lids. Pleasure cascaded over her in wave after wave. Mitch’s arms went around her body as he thrust into her one more time and shattered too, pumping into her with long hard, pulses. “God!” he cried, arms tightening almost painfully. “God, Kerri.”

They lay like that for a long time, damp and clinging, breathing hard, hearts thudding together.

It was perfect. It was perfectly right, profoundly intimate and intimately connecting.

The tears came then.

“Don’t cry, Kerri.” Mitch tried to move her hair and lift her face so he could see her. “Please don’t cry. You’ll make me cry too.”

She sniffled a laugh at the idea of big, strong, cynical Mitch crying, and lifted her head. He wiped the tears with his thumbs, tenderly. “I’m sorry,” she said in a watery voice.

“Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for crying, to start,” she said. “It’s not an insult to your prowess, believe me.”

“A compliment?” he fished, eyes gleaming.

“Definitely a compliment,” she assured him. “It’s more than that, though. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch.”

“God, Kerr, never a bitch. Well, okay, maybe sometimes…”

She smacked him lightly as they both laughed and he pulled her down against him again. She snuggled into his embrace, loving the warmth and strength she felt.

Kerri didn’t know how much time had passed—ten minutes? An hour? She had dozed off and woke up in the dark room, plastered against Mitch’s hot body. His arms were around her, one hand in her hair, the other on her back. She lifted her head to see if he was awake and found him watching her, a half-smile on his face.

“You always fall asleep after sex,” he said, eyes glinting.

She smiled slowly back at him. “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at the watch he still wore. “Nearly ten.”

“We should go back to the wedding.”

“Yeah, we should.”

They stayed like that, not moving for a few comfortable, clinging moments, then Kerri moved away and slid out of bed. She looked at her bridesmaid dress in a heap on the floor and grimaced.

“Put on something else,” Mitch said. “I am not putting that tux back on.”

They both found their bags and pulled out the clothes they’d brought for Sunday morning. To their amusement, they were dressed similarly—Mitch in baggy olive green cargo pants and a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest and biceps, Kerri also in cargo pants that hung low on her hips and a skinny ribbed white tank top.

As they approached the entrance to the gazebo, Kerri paused and gripped Mitch’s hand with both of hers. “People are going to know what we were doing.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

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