Page 84 of Filthy Little Midlife Fling

“Mm-hmm,” I manage, rolling my hips in time with his touch.

He adds a finger. “I’m going to fuck you right here, Audrey, and you’re going to tell me you’re mine. You understand?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

His sigh is one of pure relief. Then things happen quickly. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, shoves them down to his ankles, and gives himself a swift stroke. His eyes are dark as pitch. One hand claws at my dress, shoving it up to my stomach before hooking my knee over his elbow and tugging me so I’m almost hanging off the edge of the counter.

I’m breathless. My heart thumps. I want him so badly I could cry.

Then, without saying a word, Remy shoves himself home.

We moan in unison, and then he’s hooking both elbows beneath my knees and spreading me wide. I grip the edge of the counter and hang on for dear life.

“Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I gasp.

“Mine.” He slams into me. “Forever.”

“Forever,” I agree.

Then my arms are around his neck and he’s lifting me up, turning around, and pressing me against the wall. He drives himself inside me so hard I see stars, and I never want it to end. I kiss his jaw, rake my nails across his shoulders.

“I love you, Remy,” I chant over and over while he strips away the last of my sanity—but what did sanity ever do for me, other than make me into an anxious, overthinking mess?

“This is it, Audrey,” he says, pounding into me against his kitchen wall. “You’re it for me. There’s only you.”

“Only you,” I repeat, because I can’t manage full sentences.

When I come with a cry, he lets out a satisfied growl and then joins me with a climax of his own. Slowly, Remy lets my legs drop to the floor as he holds me close. Our breaths come in sharp pants. I push a hank of hair off my sweaty forehead, blinking to clear my vision, and then meet Remy’s gaze.

His eyes are soft, and his lips are curled into a smile. “I meant it, Audrey. I want forever with you.”

My heart is too big for its cage. I find myself smiling, and every last bit of fear that had gripped me before has vanished. “Forever sounds good.”

He presses his lips to my forehead, then bends down to pull his sweats back up from where they’d been clumped around his ankles. I fix my clothes and drag in a few much-needed breaths.

Then we eat pie.

Spearing the last pecan on my plate, I make a mental note to tell Laurel her initial master plan of “do it on the kitchen counter and then eat pie” actually came to fruition.

“I want to show you something,” Remy says, threading his fingers through mine.

“Okay.” I smile as he tugs me down the hallway toward the garage door.

Remy pauses with his hand on the knob, glancing at me, then lets out a gust of breath. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

We step through, and I freeze on the bare concrete floors. My eyes widen and for a few moments, I can’t utter a word.

“You like it?”

“Remy,” I breathe, turning to him. “What… How…?”

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