Page 59 of Small Town Frenzy
She meets me thrust for thrust, and the feel of her becomes too much, too everywhere all at once. “So good,” I groan, but I know I can’t last. The heat of her consumes me, the sounds of our wet bodies hitting together have my thoughts spinning. The coil breaks, sending me spiraling into my release, and the erratic movement causes me to lose rhythm. But there’s nothing more that I want than to feel her coming.
“I’m so close.”
Reaching around her abdomen, I find that sweet cherry bud of hers and make it taut with my fingers. A pinch and circle, a tap, and tease. I need her to catch up before my orgasm ends and for her to fall apart with me.
She’s panting as I thrust into her, hoping she finds the inevitable slip from the cliff. One more breath, and she squeezes hard around me, tremors rippling through herbody and breath. She pulls me into the depths of our release with her.
I move until I can’t, until the last of me is stripped away. I stay inside her even though our bodies have stilled, and our breaths run jagged. Dropping my head to her shoulder, I try to catch my breath again. I kiss the nook of her neck and along her shoulder.
When I’m steady in my body again, I pull back, tossing the condom to the floor. “I just checked off the first to-do of the day.”
She laughs, sliding against the wall for support and turning around. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she smiles at me. “How many more to-dos are on your list?”
“Nine.”
Resting her head back, fully amused, and from the way her eyelids hang a little lower, she’s properly worn out. “What are they?”
“I’d rather show you.” I slide my hand over her cheek and kiss her. Leaning my forehead against hers, I smirk. “How much time do you have?”
CHAPTER 25
Cricket
Staring at my notes,I tick each item that’s handled. Bartenders is the only item left glaring at me. “Savvy, can you get someone to walk the bartenders through the rosé versus sparkling wine, which is which, and the protocol for tonight when serving each type? Remember when they didn’t know the difference? I had to run the bar for two hours that night. What a mess.”
I’m ready to tick the box as soon as she accepts the delegation of duty. But her silence has me lifting my eyes to find her staring at me. “You had sex.”
“Good God, Sav. We don’t have to say everything that crosses our mind.”
She laughs and then comes closer to whisper and singsong in my ear, “Cricket had sex.” She steps back with her all-knowing grin and points at my face. “Look at that glow.” She goes quiet when a golf cart of servers drives by, but as soon as they pass, she adds, “I have to say, dear cousin, I’m impressed that you got you some after four yearsof self-inflicted celibacy with the same man who rocked your world the last time.”
If she didn’t look so impressed, I might be amused. Just a bit, but I would have. Lowering my phone since she’s clearly not going to allow me the hit of dopamine I get when I check a box, I watch the last row of seats being set up as the florist hurries down the aisle, tying ribbons to the ends of each side. “You’ve got your facts wrong. Trust me, it wasn’t self-inflicted.”
“Have you looked in the mirror, like ever?” She comes to stand next to me. If I know her, and I do very well, her gaze is noting the setup over at the bar, though she still won’t give me the reward of marking it off my list. “You could walk into a Brookshire Brothers Grocers and hook up. So, trust me, it was by choice. Almost like you were saving yourself.Aww. How romantic for someone who has always claimed she’s the opposite.”
Our gazes slide to each other at the same time. “Oh wow.” The notion settles into my psyche. “That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
“According to you, not on purpose.” A smirk slips out before she says, “I’m off to work with the bartenders.”
I pull up my phone and check the box. I don’t get the instant gratification hit I thought I would, but for some reason, it doesn’t matter. I had sex today with an incredible man who made sure to check all my boxes. I’ll be riding this high all night.
The ceremony was perfect.The reception is going off without a hitch. I even got a quick hug good night from Jacob between the two events. Seeing him, even for a fewminutes looking all cute in his jammies made my night. When he asked if he was going to see Griffin again because he was nice made my heart melt on the spot.What an amazing day.
I still can’t stop thinking about the significance of seeing them together at the park. My worries were totally unfounded. There was not an ounce of jealousy. Not one iota of fear that Griffin was going to flip our lives upside down for custody. It’s early days, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Not that he won’t want time with him, or that he doesn’t deserve it, but more like it was okay to allow the idea in for the first time. Griffin isn’t a threat to me by stepping into Jacob’s life. He’s not replacing me. He genuinely seems to want to give Jacob the dad he deserves.
I think back to the pizzeria when I met Griffin’s dad. He was the nicest guy who had this playful rapport with Griffin. There was respect flowing both ways between them. He’s had a good role model. They’re still very close and put family first. What more could I want for my son? Happiness is the most important thing I can give him.
I see my brother standing on the outskirts of the open-sided white tent where the party has another hour before closing. I walk over to stand next to him. “What brings you by? Spying for our parents?”
He laughs, looking down at me. “Why would our parents send a spy to check on you, Buggy?” That name is the worst.Will I never outgrow it?
I’ll assume that’s rhetorical since we both already know the answer. “I heard you did big things in France?”
Turning toward me, he scratches his temple and then looks around like someone is watching him. “A few deals were closed.” He looks at me, and says, “I’m thinking about moving there.”
Blindsided, I rock back on my heels. “Will? Why? How? What do you mean?” We’ve not always been on the best of terms. He’s inherited some of my parents’ bad habits when it comes to me, but he’s also my brother, and he’s gone to bat for me when I was under fire.
I stare into his eyes in his silence. A message he doesn’t seem to be able to verbalize is written in the irises. He finally says, “Being born a Dover doesn’t obligate me to a life on this property.”
