Page 25 of The Hard Hitter

I lightly push my pinky into her, just enough for her to know I’m there. She yelps, but it turns into a moan when I bend over her and brush my finger over her clit.

“My God, yes,” she says, the triple pleasure clearly working for her. She comes all over my cock, and her hot juice drips to my balls, soaks me, and I fucking love it. I pound into her, chase my own orgasm as I play with her ass and fuck her like a mad man, seriously unable to get enough.

I push once, twice, and on the third time, I come inside her. Cum jettisons from my cock, and the orgasm is so powerful, so goddamn intense, I lose all focus. I fill her with my seed and fall over her, our warm bodies meshed as one.

Since speech is currently beyond my capabilities, I put my hand on her shoulder, give it a little squeeze to check on her. Jesus, I’ve never been left speechless before. What is this woman doing to me? I’ve never wanted anyone more. It must have something to do with her reserve, and the way it melts away beneath my touch. It thrills me that I can do that to her, get her to open up and take—demand—what she wants. It’s fucking hot.

She moans to let me know she’s good, and we stay in that position until my cock grows flaccid. I pull out of her, go back on my heels—and as my brain comes back to earth, I realize what a colossal mistake I’ve made.

8

Sam

“Oh Shit.”

As I lie on the bed, basking in the pleasure racing through my body, Za

nder’s worried voice cuts through me and reality comes crashing back. I push up on my arms, turn over and find him on his heels, scrubbing his chin. Gorgeous blue eyes brimming with worry seek mine, his brow furrowed.

“What?” I ask, that one word catching in my dry throat. I try to swallow but can’t seem to produce any saliva.

“Shit, Sam. I didn’t use a condom.”

“Oh my God,” I say, but the responsibility isn’t his alone. Protection falls on both of us.

“I can’t believe I forgot.” He looks to the door, to the bathroom where we stripped. “I have one in my pants.” He pushes to his feet and begins to pace.

“I’m clean,” I blurt out.

“I am too,” he says. He paces some more, going to the window then to my side of the bed. “To be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone.”

“Over a year for me,” I admit.

“Yeah?”

I reach for him, take his hand. I need him to stop pacing, it’s making me anxious. When I’m anxious, my stutter comes back.

“But you’re more worried about me getting pregnant, aren’t you?”

He casts me a quick look. “I don’t want any more surprises,” he says. “I used a condom with Daisy’s mother, but it broke.”

I put my hands on his face. “I’m on the pill, Zander.” I open my nightstand and take out the packet. “See? No tricks.”

He shakes his head and briefly pinches his eyes shut. “Shit, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“I’m on the pill for menstrual cramps. No babies in my future,” I say, injecting a lightness into my tone that I don’t feel. There is a part of me that would love to have kids, but I suck at relationships, ruin them all, and had given up hope of ever having a family my own.

Or have I? In the back of my mind, I know I can go to a fertility clinic.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to suggest you were trying to trick me. You must think I’m a total asshole.”

“I don’t, and I honestly understand where you’re coming from. You’ve been tricked and hurt, and have had a lot of loss in your life. You don’t really know me that well, Zander. I get that you’d be concerned, but I’m not trying to trap the Hard Hitter. I’ve got a happy little life of my own, and a business to nurture. That’s all I want or need.”

He lifts those blue eyes to mine and puts a hand on my thigh. “The Hard Hitter?”

I grin at him. “Yeah, I know a thing or two about you.” I roll my eyes. “You do have a reputation.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, his mood mellowing. “What do you think you know?”

---