Page 92 of Extended Bridge

Fifteen minutes later, I make good on the incentive. After all, he did turn down aquadsome—is that a thing?—to be with me. Water pelting us, I use my hand to bring him to his full erection while kissing down his ripped chest until I reach my goal. My tongue swirls around the tip as his stance widens.

“You’re driving me out of my mind,” his gruff voice sails above me.

He pops out of my mouth. “Then I must be doing it right.”

I return to teasing him for a moment until he growls and puts his hand on the back of my head. He doesn’t push, yet simply adds a bitof pressure and encourages me to take him deeper. Which I do. His hips buck, and the expected guidance from his hand plays in tandem. My own fingers gently play with his balls, eliciting a deep groan from him.

“I know you said you’d give me a blowjob, and you’re doing amazing. But I want to be inside you.” He steps back. “Now.”

Who am I to deny him this wish? With a final lick, I let his dick fall from my mouth and rise to my full height.

“Don’t move.” In a flash, he’s out of the shower, opens a couple of drawers and holds up a condom, putting it on before he’s back with me. “Now, let’s see how wet you are for me.” I have only a second to open my legs when his fingers enter my core. An approving smirk graces his face. “Very.”

He turns me toward the tile and the next thing I know he’s thrusting into my body. The combination of the shower water plus his pounding into me, not to mention the way his hands squeeze my boobs, proves to be too much. My toes curl into the tile floor as my orgasm overtakes me, clenching around him. Not a second later, he roars above me as he climaxes.

The water sluices over our bodies, nearly steaming on contact. I shake my head. “How can this keep getting better?”

He kisses the center of my back. “Because it’s us.”

After we use the shower for its intended purpose, we eat a snack from room service. A couple of hours later, UC’s head of security, Elias, ushers us into our private stretch limo, complete with tinted windows, to take us to Graceland. Elvis’s music plays while we cuddle in the backseat, Bennett’s arm around my shoulder. I’ve never felt so protected. And adored.

I fidget with my skirt, playing with the hem that falls over my knees. For some reason, it seemed appropriate to wear it to “meet” the King. “Did I ever tell you my grandmother was Elvis’s biggest fan? She watched all of his movies and had all of his records. Vinyl.”

“The good old days.” He stretches his long legs, then places mine over his. “Was this your grandmother who had breast cancer?”

I swallow. “Yes.”

He pulls my upper body closer, resting my head against his chest. “It’s wonderful you have so many happy memories with her.”

When he doesn’t continue, I force myself to ask, hoping for a positive response. “Do you remember any of your grandparents?”

“Both of them from my mother’s side passed before I was born. I have a few recollections about my Dad’s side. His father always had a twinkle in his eye and was a big radio guy, as in CBs and HAM stuff. He died when I was eight. Dad’s mother liked to bake, but not cook. So when we went to their house, we’d get homemade cookies and cakes with takeout.”

“They sound fun.”

“They were.” He goes silent for a bit. “She died when I was thirteen. Luckily, she never knew her son got sick a couple of years later.”

My hand covers his heart next to my ear. “Thank you for sharing these happy memories.”

“Thanks for reminding me of them.” He kisses my forehead, and I snuggle closer to this man, who’s fancied himself a loner, yet is surrounded by so much love. To be fair, he has let my love into his heart. It’s time for more.

We pass a sign saying Graceland is ten miles away. I squeeze Bennett’s hand. “Is this really happening?”

He squeezes back. “Stick with me, kid. I promise to take you everywhere you want to go.” He chuckles “And places you didn’t know were on your list.”

Shortly, the limo slows as brake lights surround us. Even Bennett’s sway can’t make traffic disappear. I sigh, “Guess it’ll take us longer than ten minutes to get there.”

He repositions me on his lap, so my back is to his front. He teases, “Whatever shall we do to pass the time?”

“Rock Star,” I lean my head back onto his shoulder. “Behave.”

He kisses my neck, and I angle my head to give him better access. Into my ear, he breathes, “I promise to be as good as you deserve.” He punctuates his vow by biting my earlobe.

Since I’m sitting forward, I see the divider is up between us and the driver. The hard pounding beat of Hunte plays on the stereo. The windows are tinted. No one can see us—dare we? My breathing picks up.

One of Bennett’s hands skims across my chest and squishes my left breast. I’ve never had sex in a car before—never mind a moving one—yet my moan bounces off the walls. My legs fall open.Who is this woman?I consider this question for a split second and answer: a woman in love with her man.

Bennett doesn’t hesitate. His hand slides up my leg to the juncture of my thighs. A finger rubs over the lace covering my core, which already is weeping for him. “What do you want, Sweetheart?”

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