Page 62 of Long Time Coming

“What’s been years?” I hear the parting of his lips. I can feel the way his body tenses and that his arms have stilled. “Pris . . .”

I don’t know what to say, so it doesn’t surprise me that he doesn’t either. “I really lived up to the nickname, didn’t I?”

A breath leaves his chest, and he takes a deeper one in. “I’m sorry.”

I laugh humorlessly to myself. “No one is more sorry than I am that I haven’t had sex in years. Not with someone else anyway.” I shrug, not having the good sense to shut my mouth. “Images of you have come in very handy over the years.”

Stroking the back of my head, he rests his chin on the top of it. “I’m sorry for the name. I thought it was harmless.”

“It was a curse.”

He leans back. “This is bullshit.”

There’s no anger to worry about, but his clipped tone has me looking up at him again. “What is?”

“Guys are idiots for letting you slip through their fingers.” He kisses my forehead and grabs my ass, giving it a squeeze. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve had the dirtiest fucking thoughts about you and gotten off many times to those images. Watching you come while sitting on top of me had me so close to doing the same. If only the deputy wouldn’t have shown up.”

A smile works its way back onto my face. “That actually does make me feel a lot better.”It’s the little things . . .though his large and rock-hard cock is pressed against my middle. Sometimes the bigger things deserve the limelight, too.

He grins, and there’s nothing but sincerity in the lines. Taking my hand, he rubs it over his dick. “This is what you do to me. And for the record, I was fucking hard before you even got naked. Now . . .” He twirls me out in front of him, giving me a solid once-over and then again. “I feel like the luckiest fucking bastard on the planet.” When he pulls me back to him, he says, “Don’t be nervous. I’ll go slow.”

“Unless I ask you to go faster, right?”

He chuckles. “Yes, unless you beg me to fuck you faster.” Leaning down, he kisses me. “Now, where were we?”

“I think we were just about to get these boots off me.”

Nodding toward the mattress, he commands, “Get on the bed, Pris. Years without sex is unacceptable. We’ll have to make up for lost time.”

“I’m all in.” I love that he’s not intimidated by my past, not relationships or activities. He makes me feel bolder than ever to be exactly who I am with him. I scurry over and climb on, situating myself toward the end and raising a leg in the air.

Tagger stands over me with a wry grin, his eyes locked on mine as he anchors the back of the boot on his palm and shimmies it off with the other. “So you touch yourself?” I’ve never heard his voice so deep and rugged and on the verge of a growl.

“No one is here to do it for me.” I put my other leg in the air and throw my arms wide, readying myself for the taking.

“You might regret saying that.”

“You’d have to make me.” One thing he can’t resist is a challenge. I’m just not sure if this is the subject to test him.Too late now.I rub my thighs together like a damn cricket.

“Mmm. Famous last words.” He gets the other boot off and drops it with a thud to the floorboards. My socks are thrown over his shoulder before he bends down to rub his hands between my legs. “Thinking about you getting yourself off to images of me is quite the aphrodisiac, Ms. Greene.”

“It’s always done the trick.”

“Fuck,” he says, grinning with a shake of his head. “What do I do with you?”

I tilt my head to the side, admiring that Adonis body of his. “To be fair, I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes either, so I get it.”

He’s still shaking his head when he climbs onto the mattress, appearing to genuinely try to figure me out and what he’s going to do with me while I start manifesting his mouth on me again.Maybe twice will produce results.

We move up until our heads are cushioned on pillows, and we can slip our bodies under the covers. I stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before turning to confirm he’s real. With the sides of our bodies pushed together, I can hear my breathing get louder. I tap his hand with my pinky finger. He obliges by wrapping his pinky around mine and then looks at me. I whisper, “Tagger Grange is in my bed.” This is too good to be true.

“You’re not the only one in awe, Christine Greene,” he says, dragging out the syllables in his dulcet tone. Pulling my hand out from under the cover, he kisses it. “I’ve been dreaming about this.” He sits up just enough to lift me by my hips to pull me on top of him.

Straddling him, I lift on his thighs with my hands and adjust over where I want to feel him most. His length is hard, his body already beginning a slow-moving dance against me. I maneuver down to kiss him once and then again before swiping my tongue over that sexy bottom lip of his like he does.

He chuckles. “Did you just lick me?”

“I did, and I might do it again.”

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