Page 49 of Memories of Us

“Fuck, Beks,” Brenton growled against my lips. With a hard shove off the Gator’s bed, he stood with me wrapped around his waist to flip our position. His firm, gentle hands guided me back until I lay flat against the bed liner.

First my right and then left boot fell to the dirt with a thump. My heart and breathing stilled at his fingers pulling around the button of my jeans before turning his attention to the zipper. Using my back as leverage, I arched up to make it easy for him to pull off my jeans and underwear.

“Damn, I wish I could see you,” he muttered against the inside of my thigh as he kissed his way up to the apex. I savored the blindness the darkness offered; he couldn't see the scars I was still self-conscious of when naked in front of a man. The rough bed liner scraped at my back as I squirmed in need. “I want to see every beautiful inch of your amazing body. I want to bite every perfect damn inch.”

“Yes,” I encouraged.

“I’ll mark you as mine and mine only. Feet on the tailgate, baby, and don't move.”

I complied, resting socked heels on the edge of the metal and widening my knees. The first swipe of his tongue liberated all the pent-up tension from the day's events. When he sucked that tiny part of me between his lips, everything but us was swallowed up by the darkness. Desperate for more, I scooted farther down the tailgate, pushing myself into his mouth.

“That move I'll allow.” He laughed and gripped my hips tight enough to leave bruises along the skin.

I groaned as one finger slid inside, then moaned louder than the thunder when a second followed while his tongue and lips worked me just above. His free hand pinched a pebbled nipple just as he sucked hard. A tornadic release barreled out, forcing a garbled version of his name through my lips. My back arched off the bed, but he held my hips tight, continuing to work his magic through it all.

Seconds, maybe minutes later, when I could focus back on reality, the rain was only a slight trickle outside the shed.

Wow.

When was the last time I'd had a soul-crushing orgasm like that without the assistance of a toy?

As I continued taking in deep, calming breaths, his slick lips skimmed up my stomach to linger over mine.

“This is something I'll always remember. You, your sounds, taste, and smells, the storm. Everything combined makes it a dream I never want to wake from.”

His scruff-covered cheek scraped along my palms. “Me either.” I drew him close for a kiss so gentle, so loving, as happy tears dampened my lashes.

Dammit, what was I doing? I was setting myself up to fall over again by getting more wrapped up in him than he was with me. I was a fool, but hell, it could be fun while it lasted.

Damn the consequences of enjoying this limited time with him. I was already in too deep to try and back out now. He was leaving, and I was staying. That was that. Maybe he’d learn the truth about that night. Perhaps he wouldn't. None of it mattered at that moment. What did matter was his sculpted bare chest pressed against mine and our lips sealed together, savoring our perfect moment like two people desperately in love.

Three more days.

I could protect my heart from new Brenton for three more days.

He could use my body—and holy hell, I hoped he would—but my heart was mine. And I'd do whatever it took to protect it from him.

**

THE SUN SHINED IN FULLforce through the cheap blinds and thin curtains, burning into my exhausted eyes when I turned in the bed. Instead of popping up for the first cup of dark bliss, I flung the light blanket back over my head and rolled over with a groan of annoyance.

Tired.

Way too tired to even think of leaving the bed.

It was around three in the morning when we made it back to the barn. Then we had to unload, plus a quick shower, which put me rolling into bed around four.

Our night together couldn’t have played out any better than it did. After the storm moved on, we drove through the thick mud back to our original spot to continue the predator hunt, but the kitty never showed. Maybe it was due to the crazy storm, but I’d bet it was our loud laughing, and of course, my exaggerated hand motions when I was involved in a story, and the constant back-and-forth conversations.

Well, in-between the hot and heavy make-out sessions, we did all that.

Brenton's lips were irresistible, a perfect fit to mine. And damn that man could kiss—demanding yet still somehow soft, combining to form some cosmic union of all things perfect in this world.

Being out on the land with his lips against my body was like a teleport back in time to all those years ago when we did the same thing, laughing, talking, kissing.

A shout from somewhere in the house dragged reality back in. After swinging both legs off the bed, I stretched both arms up high to work the stiff muscles out of my lower back. On silent, bare feet, I tiptoed across the worn carpet to the closed door and pressed an ear against it.

Daddy. No surprise. That man was always upset about something Bradley or I did.

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