Page 48 of Tempt

“You feel so good,” I tell her, pulling back only a little to gently pump my hips. “I get so lost in you.”

“Me too,” she confesses, only furthering my addiction to her.

Still holding her hands above her head I use my other hand to push her hair to one side as she rests her forehead to the wall. Kissing over her shoulder I start to move, pumping inside of her over and over. The way she quivers and grips me makes it hard to go slow, but I want this to last.

“More,” she begs, pushing back against me and I know she wants it harder.

Letting go of her hands I cup her breasts, her nipples so hard against my palms.

She leans back only managing to arch her back more and I give in and offer her exactly what she wants. Pumping my hips hard and fast I feel my own orgasm building. Her breaths quicken, her body tightens around me, and she screams out my name just before she falls over the edge.

She shivers, wetness pooling between us and I slam inside of her once, twice, before my thighs tense and I push in deep bottoming out. A quake of pleasure rips through me and I find it hard to keep myself upright, but I manage.

Together we remain tightly pressed together, our deep breaths the only sound you can hear.

I slip from her body as she slowly turns around to face me, and kisses my chest, just above the beat of my heart. I wrap my arms around her tight and know right then that there was no falling for her, I’ve already fallen, hard.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Kyra

“Gran,”I holler out as I walk in through the back door of Sugarland. It’s quiet, and normally by now all the lights are turned on and the clinking of baking dishes can be heard.

“Hello?” I say again and then I hear a scuffle, the sound of a bowl maybe falling to the floor. Then hush whispers that make me stop in the hallway, worried about what I may be walking into. After what has already happened I’ll admit I am a little on edge. But there haven’t been any new developments with Phil, so I am hoping he’s finally moved on.

More loud sounds echo, and I back up, searching for the door handle. Then I hear Gran and I freeze once again.

“Kyra, is that you?”

“Gran?” I move forward once more. “What is go—,” my words fall short when I see her straightening her apron with her hair sticking out of her bun high up on her head. Looking past her I notice Wilbur Green, the butcher from across the alley. His belt is undone, and his shirt is miss buttoned.

I’m at a loss for words.

I open my mouth once, twice, only to close it tight and stand there staring.

“It’s early,” my Gran finally speaks, clearing her throat.

“It’s five forty,” I correct her. “I’m actually about twenty-five minutes late.”

“Oh,” she shrugs. “You’ve met Wilbur.”

I nod, unable to look at him. Oh my God, I can’t do it. All I can see is him and my Gran going at it like two teens. I can’t look either one of them in the eyes.

“I’ll call you later,” she tells him. He mumbles something in return and then walks toward me as I sidestep to allow him to pass.

Keeping my head down I move into the kitchen to see a bowl, two spatulas and a shaker of cinnamon that had spilled and rolled toward the oven.

“I feel sick,” I mumble wrinkling up my nose.

“Stop being a child,” she chastises me before moving around the area, picking up her mess. “I am a woman with needs.”

“Oh no, we’ve talked about this, and I do not need nor want to hear about your needs.”

She laughs.

“I am serious, you give crap about the health department, yet here you are fooling around in the kitchen.” I throw my hands up in the air. “Where we are set to open in a couple hours, and you have yet to get things baking for our customers.”

“Oh my Girl, will you please untie those panties of yours that seem to be cutting off your circulation.”

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