Page 13 of Our Long Days
Balancing on my tiptoes, I seal my fate with the brush of my lips along his stubbled jaw. His breath hitches, touch drifting down my spine until his fingers slip under the waistband of my panties, teasing.
I lean back so he can see me speak clearly. “Yes.”
A gasp tears from my throat when my feet leave the floor, legs wrapping around his waist automatically. He strides into the bedroom with one goal in mind.
The change between us is automatic, from a low, humming current to an electric storm.
It’s a frenzy of lips and teeth clashing, clothes flying, hands roaming. We’re desperate for one another. For an escape. For a night of distractions.
The next few hours happen in a blur but will remain etched in my brain for an eternity.
CHAPTER FIVE
florence
Thick forearms bracketing my head.
The scratch of his mustache on my thighs.
A delicious bite of pain.
Coiling black ink rippling with each thrust.
Callused hands and soft lips that trace every dip and curve.
A fleeting distraction.
CHAPTER SIX
dexter
Emerald eyes glimmeringwith each roll of her hips.
Falling to her knees, mouth open and ready.
Kisses that drift lower and lower.
Breathy little moans through pouted lips.
Tight, velvet heat.
What should be a mistake but isn’t.
CHAPTER SEVEN
florence
48 HOURS LATER
There areplenty of reasons to wish time travel was real.
To stop a heinous crime from being committed or intervening in the conception of an evil dictator.
I’d sell my left boob to rewind the clocks. Not too far, just to the early hours of New Year’s Day before I slipped out from under the heavy tattooed arm slung over my hip. It was immature and rude. The memories of our night together were the only thing keeping me warm as I waited for my cab outside.
Dex devoured every inch of me, as I did him. His body. Good god. A magnificent canvas of artwork painted on what can only be described as masculine beauty. He’s not ripped, with chiseled abs or defined muscles. No, hours of manual labor have created a masterpiece. The epitome of Dad bod. He’s bigeverywhere, with a wide chest and shoulders, slightly rounded stomach, and thighs thick as tree trunks. Everything about him was rough. The way he kissed. The way he fucked. The way he handled me.
When the cab pulled up outside my mom’s house, dawnwas on the horizon, and I was hot and bothered all over again. I fought the urge to collapse face first onto my bed, swallowed my pride, and texted him.
