Page 57 of Brewbies
He obliged, powering into her again and again, filling her with his heat, his desire.
His frustration.
Darby yielded to it all, arching back into him as she met him thrust for thrust. Need for need.
“Christ, Darby. I can’t—” Ethan gasped, his movements growing erratic as he twitched inside her.
“You can,” she panted, squeezing her thighs to tighten around him in silent plea.
Bend me. Break me. Make me yours.
Ethan’s rhythm grew frantic, a frenzied, primal pounding that left Darby’s vision spangled with bursts of color as vibrant as fireworks over the Hudson River.
It was too much and not nearly enough. All she could do was surrender.
To let it take her. To let it claim her.
“Ethan,” she whimpered, and the sound of his name on her lips only spurred him in time with the wild, reckless beating of her heart.
And then she was disintegrating into pure pleasure again, a long, drawn-out shudder that didn’t end until her lungs were burning and her whole body shook.
The muscles in Ethan’s arms, his chest, his shoulders, strained taut. He threw his head back on a strangled roar as he lost himself inside her. His torso folded forward, and his forearms wrapped beneath her sternum. His heart beat like a jackhammer between her shoulder blades as their breath slowed.
Ethan lifted himself off her and collapsed to the grass, his arms flung out wide. Darby sank down beside him, the dew-damp blades cool against their fevered skin. She allowed herself to revel in the simple pleasure of the backs of their hands kissing. The precious handful of seconds before the chip reassembled itself on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair.
Darby shook her head, a faint smile curving her lips. Already with the apologies. “For what?”
The swing creaked in the silence, interrupted only by the night wind through the trees.
A tremor ran through him, and Ethan stilled before turning to meet her gaze.
“Trespassing.”
Darby propped herself up on elbow. “You planning on turning yourself in?”
The ghost of a smile flickered at one corner of his lips. “To whom?”
She grazed her fingertips on his chest, playing over the dip of his sternum. “I could call Deputy McGarvey on you. He’d be here in a hot second,” she said with a teasing smile. “He asked me to dinner, in fact.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew it had been a mistake. All humor evaporated from Ethan’s face as his gaze turned stony and he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Darby wanted to say something, anything that would ease the tension emanating from him in waves, but no words came. Instead, she just sat there, watching the walls that had been crumbling around him just moments before reassembling themselves with record speed.
“Hey,” she said softly, lightly resting a hand on his shoulder. “I was kidding.”
But Ethan had already retreated, withdrawing from her touch like a cat. He was silent as he quickly rearranged his boxers and zipped his jeans.
“I should get going,” he said gruffly as he pushed himself off the ground.
Darby reached for her discarded sleep shorts and shimmied into them before hugging her arms over her bare breasts. “Ethan. Look at me.”
He only bent and retrieved her t-shirt, tossing it toward her before beginning to gather his tools.
“Ethan.”
He finally turned to her, his expression unreadable in the darkness.
“What the hell crawled up your ass in the last two minutes?”
