Page 169 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
“Do you moan like that for him?” I asked, running the tip of my nose along the back of her neck. “Does he touch you like I do?”
I sucked her earlobe between my teeth as I ran one hand down the front of her, circling her clit just enough to make her shake for me.
Fuck.
I couldn’t wait any longer.
I pushed back from the window, ripping the condom open and sheathing myself quickly before my hands were on her hips again. She arched her back for me, and I slipped my crown between her lips, both of us holding our breath.
A flex, slow and steady, and I filled her.
B moaned as she stretched open for me, as her knees quaked and her pussy throbbed.
“Goddamn,” I breathed, withdrawing before I pressed in again — a little harder, a little deeper. The way I had her pressed against the window, anyone looking at our building would see us. They’d see her dark nipples flattened against the glass, her cheek, mouth open as she panted for me. They’d see me pounding her from behind, taking back what had always belonged to me.
I ran my hand up her spine before fisting her hair and tugging, arching her neck for me so I could kiss and bite along that sensitive skin. I kept my steady pace, orgasm building with every thrust inside her. She was so fucking wet, so tight, so mine that it drove me insane.
When I was close, I withdrew, carrying her to the couch. I dropped her long enough to throw the boxes on the cushions off onto the floor, and then I sat in the middle, reaching for her hips and pulling her toward me.
B straddled me just like she knew I wanted — her perfect tits in my face, knees on either side of my thighs as she sat down on my cock. We cursed, my head falling back as she dug her nails into my shoulders.
When I opened my eyes and saw her, the lust faded — only for a second — as I realized the magnitude of that moment.
B felt it, too. She slowed, and for a while, it was nothing but our steady breathing as she rode me, smooth and steady. I held her with a knot in my throat, with my heart on my sleeve, with every ounce of pain and abandonment being soothed with every thrust.
B’s eyes watered quickly, and then a tear slipped free, one I caught with my thumb. I frowned, wiping that tear across her bottom lip before I pulled her down into me. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight, my lips eager and promising against hers as she rode out her release.
It’s okay, I hoped that kiss told her. I’m here now. Everything is okay.
I believed that. With all my heart, I believed it.
But when the morning light came, everything was far from okay.
• • •
“Oh God.”
B stirred under me, her heavy breathing dragging me from a groggy sleep. I blinked, but before I could even register what was happening, B said it again — louder, and with more fear.
“Oh God.”
She threw my arm off her, scrambling to her feet with the sheet wrapped around her. It twisted around her ankles and she fell, popping back up with a squeak as I shot up in bed.
“Wha— you okay?”
She wrapped the sheet around her tighter, running to her closet. “No,” she cursed, shutting the closet door. “No, Jamie, I am not fucking okay.”
“What’s going on?”
She threw the door open a second later, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt now.
“Oh, I don’t know. There’s a naked man in my bed, and it’s not the one I’m engaged to.”
It was early, that much I knew. We hadn’t had much sleep, that much I made sure of. And now, I had no idea what the fuck she was talking about.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “You’re not getting married.”
“What? Of course, I am,” she scoffed.
Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I snapped my eyes open, locking them on hers. “You can’t be serious.”
“Listen, last night was a—”
She paused, and my heart stopped before kicking back to life with a vengeance.
“A what?” I dared her, standing. I didn’t care that I was naked. In fact, I loved the way she couldn’t help but trail the length of me, the way I knew she wanted me — even as she tried to pretend she didn’t. “A mistake?”
She frowned, folding her arms over herself as she shrank back.
“Don’t you fucking say it, B. Don’t you say it was a mistake.”
She cleared her throat, looking out the window behind me.
“I’m engaged,” she croaked.
I growled, slinging a string of curse words as I ran both hands through my hair. I stormed to the living room with B on my heels, and I swiped my briefs off the floor, anger rolling off me in plumes.
