Page 81 of Behind the Net

My eyes are wide. “Do it.”

He hunches over, groaning. Cum shoots out of his cock and coats my chest as I continue stroking him, and when I think he’s done, he isn’t. He keeps coming, watching me with that agonized expression I love while he sprays liquid onto my breasts. It’s covering my hands, it’s on my tits, and it’s dripping down my stomach.

“My fucking god, Pippa,” he mutters, catching his breath, watching me with something that looks like awe. “You made me come so hard.” His gaze drops to my chest and the corner of his mouth pulls up into a satisfied smirk. He dips a long finger through his cum before looking at my mouth.

“Open.”

I do as I’m told. My face heats but so does the apex of my legs—I love it when he tells me what to do. He slides his finger into my mouth, and I moan at the taste of him, sucking his finger and letting my tongue swirl around it.

He groans again as he takes his hand back. “Jesus.”

I light up with a delighted grin. He rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth tugs into a sated smile. He leans forward to press a soft kiss to my mouth.

“I knew you could do it,” he whispers. His hand drifts to the back of my neck. It’s so warm, so comforting, sonice. I’m never leaving this bed.

He kisses me, and instead of urgent and demanding like before, he’s soft, sweet, gentle, like he’s cherishing me. My thoughts float in the air, my skin tingles, and I sigh into him.

My god. Is that what sex is like for other people? What the hell was I doing with Zach all those years?

“You okay?” he murmurs, pulling back to search my eyes.

“Yes.” I nod, breathless.

I’m more than okay. I’m a thousand times better than when we walked into this room.

He gives me one more kiss before pulling away. “Stay there.”

He returns a moment later with washcloths to clean me up, and my pulse stumbles at the two sides of him—demanding and bossy versus sweet and caring. I watch his toned ass and powerful thighs as he walks away. When he returns, wearing clean boxers and holding a glass of water, he’s still wearing that sated expression, that smirk as his eyes rake over me, and I can’t help but grin at him.

“What time is it? I should walk Daisy again.”

“I’ll do it,” he says, digging through his pants pocket for his phone. “You stay here.” He pulls his phone out, and his expression changes. “Shit,” he murmurs, frowning.

“What’s wrong?”

He already has the phone at his ear. “I have six missed calls from my mom.”

CHAPTER38

PIPPA

I sit up straight,worry sobering me. He props the phone against his ear with his shoulder while pulling his pants on.

“What’s going on?” he asks when Donna answers. Concern is etched into his features, which were so relaxed a moment ago.

He pauses, listening, hands faltering on his socks. His eyes widen. I’m already off the bed, getting dressed.

“Okay,” he says before listening more. “I’ll go over to her place to see if she’s okay.” He glances at me. “Can you try those breathing exercises Pippa did with you?”

He listens, but his eyes are locked on me, brows knitted together as I pull my sweater on, goosebumps rising all over my arms.

After promising to call her back, he hangs up before scrolling through his contacts.

“What’s going on?”

“She had her friend Claire over for dinner and asked her to text her when she got home, but she didn’t, and then my mom couldn’t get a hold of her.” His jaw tightens. “And then it turned into a panic attack. She always worries people are going to get hit by a drunk driver.”

Claire came to a hockey game with us recently. She lives in the southern part of the city. It’ll take him an hour and a half to get there and then up to North Vancouver.

---