The elevator doors opened onto the fifth floor, Spence’s private floor. He guided Colbie off the elevator into a lobby with four doors. One led to the stairwell—which Elle came out of with Daisy Duke in tow, perfectly behaved now, of course.
Two more doors led to Spence’s private penthouse apartment and office. The last one opened directly into his gym. They went through that door, and while Elle flicked on lights and hit the alarm pad to enter his code, Spence heard Colbie gasp. He turned back quickly to find her staring in awe out the windows at the sun setting over the bay.
“Wow,” she breathed, still shaking but taking the time to eye the 180-degree vista of the city as she hugged herself in his jacket. He knew that from where she stood, she could see the rest of Cow Hollow, and past that, Fort Mason Park, the Marina Green, and the bay.
And he thought it was pretty wow too. He loved this view. It was one of the many reasons he’d bought the building in the first place.
I wouldn’t be able to work out to this view,” she said.
“Never gets old for me either.” Spence pulled out his phone to crank up the heat from his app before remembering he hadn’t dried the phone out yet. He had to actually use the control panel on the wall before going to her at the window. When he was stuck in his own head and unable to get anywhere with his work, he liked to stare out at the city that was more home to him than anywhere else had ever been.
“I love it,” she breathed. “I feel like from right here I can see all the way to the ends of the Earth.”
He knew what she meant. Out beyond the bay stretched the Pacific Ocean in all its deep-blue majesticness, clear to the gently curved horizon.
“I could so write to this view,” she went on in a hushed, amazed voice and turned to Elle, who was working out her thumbs—on her phone. “This is such a great building. I saw the pub downstairs. And the coffee shop and that cute reclaimed-wood furniture place. What else is there?”
“More shops and businesses,” Elle said, her thumbs still going, Daisy Duke at her side falling asleep standing up. “An eclectic mix on the first and second floors. Residential apartments on three and four.”
“I don’t suppose you have any apartments available for a short-term rental?” Colbie asked hopefully. “I’m only going to be here until Christmas Eve but would happily pay for the whole month to stay here.”
“Sorry,” Elle said. “But no.”
Spence met Elle’s gaze. She was the mother figure he didn’t need, the bossy-as-hell sister he’d never asked for, and his favorite and most important employee, but she was also a colossal pain in his ass. “What Elle means,” he said, “is that she doesn’t know of anything offhand but I’m sure she could check it out for you.”
“Hmm,” Elle said and nudged a trembling Colbie toward the shower area. “The restroom’s through that door. Fresh towels under the sink. Go get warmed up.”
Colbie, apparently too cold to further argue, nodded. She shut the door behind herself and they heard the lock click into place.
Cute, sexy, and smart.
“Are you kidding me?” Elle asked him, keeping her voice low.
“Don’t ‘what’ me. You know what. You’re in the middle of saving the world right now for Clarissa, remember? So please tell me what the hell you think you’re doing.”
They heard the shower come on from inside the bathroom. “Look,” he said, trying to not picture Colbie stripping out of her clothes. “I got her into this mess. This is the least I can do.”
“No,” she said. “The least you could do is give her a hundred bucks for her trouble and send her on her way.”
“Cold, Elle, even for you.”
“Did you even get a last name on her? Or what she does for a living? Did you vet her in any way?”
“For what?” he asked. “I’m the one who ruined her day, not the other way around.”
“And how about the way she reacted to you even thinking about touching her phone? Did you notice that little red flag?”
“Of course. And I wouldn’t have let a stranger touch my phone either,” he said. “Hell, I barely let you touch it.”
“You know what I’m getting at,” she said. “Maybe she has something to hide, Spence.”
Or maybe she was in trouble. She’d denied that but he couldn’t help but think of her sweet eyes and the haunted depths he’d seen in them. “She needs a place to stay. Give her the empty furnished apartment I’m holding on the third floor.”
“We don’t do short-term rentals here. By your own decree.”
“We do today.”
There was a beat of silence. Since Elle was never silent, it had to be shock.
“You hold that open for a reason,” she finally said.
“Yeah, and so far Eddie’s refused to come in off the streets, hasn’t he?” Yet another problem he hadn’t been able to solve, which tightened the ever-present knot in his chest. “Make the rent cheap because she’s a struggling writer—she probably doesn’t have much money.”
Elle’s mouth fell open. “She’s a writer? Are you kidding me?”
“Not a reporter,” he said. “A fiction writer.”
Elle just continued to stare at him. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
“Look, I got her knocked into the fountain and it’s butt-ass cold out there, and she rolled with it.” He remembered Colbie’s throaty laugh and it made him smile even now. “She’d been a really good sport about it.”
“Maybe she had a good reason,” Elle said. “Maybe she was trying to get close to you. Hell, maybe she is a reporter and the whole thing’s a setup.”
Sawyer wants a life of her own.
Finn wants to forget he ever had one.
After a tragedy, Finn Hollis escapes
into the swamp to be alone.
That is until Sawyer Dixon shows up,
all SCORCHING HOT innocence,
claiming she owns the land less than
fifty feet from his front door.
Sawyer gets under his SKIN, but even worse?
She makes him WANT things.
Things Finn hasn’t wanted in a very very long time.
Finn WANTS Sawyer gone.
Almost as much as he wants her in his BED.
The Outskirts is Book One in the Outskirts Duet.
My throat tightened and a heaviness grew in my chest like my heart didn’t know whether to beat faster or stop beating altogether. “Did you leave me all this to show me the life you could’ve had, but didn’t? Why!?” I pounded the wheel again and then again, and again and again until my vision was blurry and all I could see was the redness of my own heated rage. “You’re a fucking coward! You fucking COWARD!” I screamed to no one, pounding on the wheel until the skin across my knuckles split and blood dripped between my fingers.
Strong hands bit into my biceps, yanking me from the cab. I was spun around by my shoulders and found myself face to face with Finn. “I like it when you swear,” he said, pressing close.
“Finn, get off me! Get off me! Let me go!” I wailed, struggling to free myself from his grip. Kicking out my legs only to connect with the air as he evaded my every move.
A growl tore from his throat. Finn picked me up and walked me to the back of the truck, setting me on the open tailgate. He pushed himself between my legs and hovered over me to keep me from leaping off.
“Let me go,” I demanded, pushing at his hard chest. “I don’t have time for your broodiness right now.”
Finn held my wrists together with one hand. “No, of course you don’t. You’re too busy tearing up pictures and screaming at no one.”
“Let me go,” I repeated.
“No,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Just go! Leave me alone. Leave meeeeeee!” I wailed as I pounded against his stone chest.
“You don’t want to hit me,” he warned, his eyes hardened.
“Then let me go.”
“Why?” He stepped in closer, unaffected by my attempt to fight against him. My inner thighs were touching his outer thighs.
“Because she did!” I screamed, my eyes sprang open to find his cold blue gaze. “She could have run anywhere and taken me with her. Instead she left him but she left me too. She was a coward who couldn’t make the right decision and I love her. I love her…but I hate her. I hate her so much…so…” I was interrupted when Finn’s lips pressed against mine, momentarily rendering me stupid. I pointed my toes toward the sky to avoid my initial instinct which was to wrap my legs around him. It was so consuming that I momentarily forgot to fight him off, but I didn’t need to, he pulled his lips from mine.
“Stop doing that,” I said. I pushed him off but he stayed between my legs, his hands on my bare back just under the hem of his big t-shirt I was wearing. His gaze hardened. I could see the conflict written in his lined forehead and the deep V between his eyes. I had no doubt the conflict had everything to do with me.
And kissing me.
“It’s your fault that I do it,” Finn said, his voice deep and smooth against my chin and then my neck.
“So that’s your plan? Kiss me every time you want to shut me up?” I asked, still feeling every bit of my anger but also feeling something else. Something that sent tingles between my legs and an ache in my core. “Thank you for saving me. Really. Thank you. I appreciate it,” my voice cracked. “But you can just leave me alone now. And please, STOP kissing me.” My words a whisper.
“I’m going to kiss you whenever I want to kiss you,” Finn stated as if I didn’t have a say in the matter.
The early morning sunlight highlighted the beads of sweat trickling from his shoulders down his broad chest and across the valleys of his defined abs. He was standing so close that we were breathing in each other’s air.
“Whenever you want to kiss me?” I laughed. “I don’t understand you. I don’t understand any of this. You’re always mad at me. Why did you save me? Why do you keep kissing me when you’re always mad at me?”
“It’s when I’m pissed off at you that I want to kiss you the most,” Finn said, his voice flowing over my skin like a silky blanket. He slid me closer so I could feel the outline of his rigid erection as if he were proving a point. He lowered his lips to mine and consumed my mouth in a greedy kiss that had me shaking with need and spinning with confusion.
“Do you always kiss everyone you hate?” I asked, yanking my
lips from his.
“Does this feel like hate to you?” he growled pushing his hard length between my legs.
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T.M.Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and her young daughter.
When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance.
Well…it has a beach in it!
Stay up to date with T.M. by signing up for her newsletter today:
New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Corinne Michaels is the author of nine romance novels. She’s an emotional, witty, sarcastic, and fun loving mom
of two beautiful children. Corinne is happily married to the man of her dreams and is a former Navy wife.
After spending months away from her husband while he was deployed, reading and writing was her escape from the loneliness. She enjoys putting her characters through intense heartbreak and finding a way to heal them through their struggles. Her stories are chock full of emotion, humor, and unrelenting love.
Publication date: October 10th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
A new STANDALONE romance from New York Times bestselling author Jana Aston
Have you ever set out to have a one night stand with a sexy stranger?
No? I’m the only one?
Just kidding, I would never.
But then I figured, why not? My entire life I’ve been good and it’s gotten me nowhere.
I’m owed a little fun, aren’t I? A reward for being good.
Sure, a new pair of shoes would be more appropriate, but Mr. Sexy Stranger is more appealing. And when he speaks—in that British accent—it’s a done deal. Every American woman has a hot British guy fantasy. Well, most do. I haven’t taken a poll or anything, but I’m pretty sure it’s a fact.
You know that saying about best-laid plans?
Good, because I don’t either, but I assume they go awry.
Like my one night stand…
Jana Aston likes cats, big coffee cups and books about billionaires who deflower virgins. She wrote her debut novel while fielding customer service calls about electrical bills, and she’s ever grateful for the fictional gynecologist in Wrong that readers embraced so much she was able to make working in her pajamas a reality. Jana’s novels have appeared on the NYT, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists, some multiple times. She likes multiples.
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Are you ready to be SACKED?
Sacked in Seattle by Jami Davenport is NOW LIVE!
He’s loved Tiff since high school–but tragedy has blockaded her heart.
Tyee University football player Riley Black has adored Tiff since high school, but she’s never felt the same way. As Riley enters his senior year of college, he’s finally moving on and enjoying the perks of being a star athlete. Until one glimpse of Tiff unearths all those old feelings of longing and desire, not to mention the trauma of their shared past.
Tiffani Vernon has been running from her demons for seven years. When she’s forced to return to Seattle for financial reasons and attend the same college as Riley, she’s confronted with the traumatic event which has shaped her future and scarred her memories of Riley. Tiff struggles to avoid her secret high school crush, but he’s not having any of it. He’s pursuing her with a relentless determination to prove once and for all, they were meant to be together.
Can love finally heal their wounds or will they succumb to the pain and forever wonder what could have been?
* Riley *
Life-changing moments can be as obvious as a guy holding a gun to your forehead or as subtle as glimpsing a face in a crowd.
That gun and that face haunted my nights and often my days.
I hadn’t laid eyes on Tiffani Vernon since the night of our high school graduation over three years ago. She couldn’t leave Seattle fast enough, while I’d never considered going anywhere else. Seattle was the only real home I’d ever known, and I wanted to stay here and make things better. Face my fears head on. You know, crap like that.
Tiff ran from her fears, and our last night together had been epic, unforgettable, and scary as shit. She sped out of town and never looked back—especially not at me.
I knew why. It wasn’t personal, but that didn’t make me feel any better.
I reminded her of that horrible, awful day when our lives hung in the balance, the world shifted in a matter of minutes, and nothing would ever be the same again.
And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Except move on.
And I had.
Or I thought I had, until I saw her standing across that proverbial crowded room. Our eyes met. Her brown ones to my blue ones. Recognition flashed in her eyes, then panic. Her mouth opened as if she were going to say something. Her expression went soft with regret. Shaking her head, she turned and ran, weaving through the crowd faster than a running back angling for the end zone. Her little pink skirt swished back and forth, calling attention to her fine ass and shapely legs. She was so smoking hot, heads swiveled as she passed.
Pain stabbed deep in my gut. Memories flooded back and slammed me to the turf, leaving me stuck to the beer-soaked floor. Graduation night. Her skin glowed in the moonlight as she gave herself to me, body and soul. I lost myself inside her, certain we’d be together forever. She left town the next morning, and I never saw her again.
Squelching that memory, I stood alone in a crowd of people, hearing nothing, sensing nothing, seeing nothing but the place where she’d stood a second ago. People elbowed me in their haste to get to the keg of beer I was blocking.
I shook my head, attempting to clear it.
She couldn’t be here.
She should be at USC starting her senior year, just as I was starting mine at the Ty, what us locals call Tyee University on Lake Union in Seattle.
She’d traded the rain and mud for sun and sand, and she’d traded me for surfer dudes and Hollywood wannabes.
But now she was back.
My feet refused to follow my orders. All I could do was gape open-mouthed like some creep with a stalker crush. There’d been other times I’d sworn I’d seen her, only to race after her and embarrass the hell out of myself when I found out the poor girl I’d dogged wasn’t Tiffani.
But we’d locked gazes this time, and there wasn’t any doubt in my mind. She was here. I tried to swallow, clear my throat, gulp in some oxygen. I swear my organs were either shutting down or going into overload. My heart slammed in my chest as if building to detonation, and my head pounded to the beat of the music in the room.
Oblivious to my disinterest, the blonde who’d been hustling me all night leaned in closer and gripped my arm. She slipped her tongue in my ear while her hand migrated to my crotch. I gave her a gentle shove, not giving one shit how rude my behavior was, even though I usually prided myself on being a nice guy.
“Later,” I told her and pushed through the throng of frat-house party-goers.
Almost frantic, I shoved my way to where I’d last seen her and caught a flash of blonde hair as she slipped out the door. I dashed after her down the sidewalk into the street and glanced left and right. She was gone, vanished into thin air as if she’d never
existed. I waited five, then ten minutes, she never reappeared.
With a sigh, I trudged back to the party, ignoring the curious stares of the guys. I sank onto the couch in the living room, next to a couple of teammates, and faked interest in a football game on TV. My heart thudded wildly, and my hand shook as I lifted a pizza slice to my lips.
My eyes met the concerned blue gaze of my best friend, Gage Harmon, the team quarterback, campus man slut, and proud of both titles. He was chewing slowly and staring at me as if he expected me to strip naked and dance on the table while stone-cold sober.
“You okay, Ry man?”
“Yeah, fine. Thought I saw someone. I was wrong.”
One brow crept upward, disappearing under his messy blond hair. “Female?”
I nodded, refusing to meet his gaze on the off-chance he’d see the pathetic truth and peg me for the idiot I was. What kind of loser pines after a girl this long when he has the world at his feet?
Tiff was the only girl I’d ever truly loved.
And I’d never stopped loving her, as fucked up as that was.
* Tiff *
Running into Riley Black was inevitable. The Tyee campus was big, but obviously not big enough. Even so, I hadn’t expected to see him during my first week of classes. I’d carefully avoided the areas where he might be hanging out, such as Greek Row, and opted for an off-campus apartment. I planned my classes to avoid being near the football field and gym in the afternoons when he’d most likely be practicing. I timed everything with careful attention to detail and avoidance. Lot of good that did me.
Coming to this party had been a lapse in judgment. I should’ve known he’d be here. Maybe I secretly hoped to run into him, just to torture myself. Maybe I was all kinds of screwed up.
Okay, well, that’s stating the obvious. Ask my family. Ask my counselor. Ask my horse. They’d all agree. I, Tiffani Grace Vernon, was one fucked-up girl, and years of therapy had barely put a dent in my tormented past. Through no fault of his own, Riley brought back every traumatic memory of that fateful day when my charmed life became a living nightmare. He was a victim as much as I was.
Now, here we were. At the same frat party. I shouldn’t have come.
Our eyes met, and recognition instantly lit up his gaze. Those same cobalt blue eyes had studied me intently from across the room in our high school biology class. They’d watched me ride my horse in endless circles at the arena near his aunt’s house. Those same eyes had opened wide in horror as my ex-boyfriend, also his teammate, pointed a gun at each of us, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The loud bang had deafened me, and the smell of iron had filled my nostrils, followed by the wrenching pain of being slammed to the ground.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
Seeing him brought it all back as if it had happened six minutes ago instead of almost seven years.
Maybe seeing me did the same for him, too? He’d gaped at me like he’d seen a ghost. Momentarily frozen in shock, his mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to say something but couldn’t. Not that I would have heard him over the sea of drunken partygoers and the roar in my ears.
My brain clawed at the last shred of sanity as wave after wave of dizziness sucked me deeper into a swirling abyss of darkness. My lungs begged for oxygen until I had to be blue in the face. My legs wobbled, and I stuck out a hand to steady myself. Swaying like a drunken sailor, I accidentally buried my fingers in some sorority girl’s cleavage. She raised her hand to take a swing at me but was too wasted to come close.
“You stupid, perverted bitch.”
Whatever. She was the least of my worries.
The music was so loud, no one paid attention to us. I wasn’t a fighter, and the time had come to get my ass out of here, not so much to run from her—I could handle her—but to get away from him and the demons nipping at my heels
I abandoned my beer on a windowsill and shoved my way
through the crowd, desperate to exit as quickly as possible. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Riley dodging people in the crowd with deft footwork that would do any running back proud. Only he wasn’t a running back. He was a tight end. The starting tight end for Tyee University. A big man on campus with an NHL star uncle.
And I was—
And I planned on keeping it that way. I didn’t have any interest in being in the spotlight or even in a flashlight.
It’d been a mistake to enroll here, but I hadn’t had a choice. My parents’ divorce had been costly, leaving no money for out-of-state tuition. So here was I was. Back in the area I both loved and despised among the best of memories drowned out by the worst of tragedies with the one person who played a part in both.
I ran out the door and down the front steps, knowing he was only seconds behind. Glancing around desperately, I dived into some bushes in front of the apartment building next to the frat house and huddled in the darkness.
I waited what seemed like hours.
Finally, I peeked through the branches of the bush. Riley stood there, several feet away, gazing down the street with such profound sadness, you’d think he’d lost his best friend. His big hands hung loosely at his sides. He still had that one lock of dark hard that refused to stay in place. He looked the same, but different. A familiar face, yet a stranger.
Shaking his head, Riley trudged back inside, his shoulders slumped and his feet dragging.
I almost ran after him—almost—but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t invite the one person back into my life who could destroy every bit of progress I’d made since high school. Even worse, I couldn’t drag him down with me.
I waited long after he’d gone inside before creeping along the side of the building, and around the corner. I ran the several blocks home and collapsed on my bed. Only then did the wrenching sobs shake my body and wring every bit of emotion from my soul until nothing was left but bone-deep weariness.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
USA Today Bestselling Author Jami Davenport writes sexy contemporary, sports, and new adult romances, including her two new indie endeavors: the Game On in Seattle series and the Men of Tyee series. Jami lives on a small farm near Puget Sound with her Green Beret-turned-plumber husband, a Newfoundland dog with a tennis-ball fetish, and a prince disguised as an orange tabby cat. She works in computer support in her day job and juggles too many balls, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Connect with Jami!
Subscribe to her newsletter to receive a free novel and be notified of new releases, special sales, and contests: http://eepurl.com/LpfaL
Website Address: http://www.jamidavenport.com
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Facebook Address: http://www.facebook.com/jamidavenport
Possessive and protective alpha heroes have long been Sasha’s biggest weakness. Reading and writing about them, especially when there’s a feisty heroine involved, has resulted in her staying up many a night over the years.
You’ll usually find Sasha out and about spoiling her many dogs, or trying to perfect the world’s greatest mac & cheese recipe (and tirelessly taste-testing practice runs in that pursuit), or hosting outdoor fajita nights for her friends as often as she can.
To get alerts on her new releases along with surprise bonus content and other goodies throughout the year, join her Email List: http://eepurl.com/cYJpUr
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HE’S A HOLLYWOOD SUPERSTAR. SHE’S LITERALLY THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
One of Hollywood’s A-listers, I have the movie industry in the palm of my hand. But if I’m going to stay at the top, my playboy image needs an overhaul. No more tabloid headlines. No more parties. And absolutely no more one night stands.
Filming for my latest blockbuster takes place on the coast of Maine and I’m determined to stay out of trouble. But trouble finds me when I run into Lana Kelly.
She doesn’t recognize me, she’s never heard of Matt Easton and my million dollar smile doesn’t work on her.
Ego shredded, I know I should keep my distance, but when I realize she’s my neighbor I know I’m toast. There’s no way I can resist temptation when it’s ten yards away.
She has a mouth designed for pleasure and legs that will wrap perfectly around my waist.
She’s movie star beautiful and her body is made to be mine.
Getting Lana Kelly into my bed is harder than I’m used to. She’s not interested in the glitz and glamour of Hollywood, but I’m determined to convince her the best place in the world is on the red carpet, holding my hand.
I could have any woman in the world, but all I want is the girl next door.
A sexy, standalone romance.
“You have a boyfriend?”
She took another sip of wine and set it back on the table before she replied. “You’ve half asked that before.”
I chuckled. True. Not that I was going to act differently if she told me—either way I needed to keep my distance. I just wanted to meet the man who had managed to land this woman. “And I’m still coming up empty.” I glanced at the rise and fall of her creamy breasts, only barely covered by her camisole, and swallowed. Hard. I really should leave.
“See that?” she asked, pointing up over the ocean. “Lightning. And again.”
“Wow, that nearly cut the sky in half.”
Our eyes locked first in excited, shared understanding and then the connection transformed into something that had nothing to do with the lightning. She looked away first. I would have stayed, my eyes fixed on hers the whole night, if she hadn’t. “The air feels charged with something.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she whispered.
It was an invitation, and not one I wanted to turn down. I wanted to touch her, see if her lips were as soft as they looked.
“I want to kiss you,” I said, shifting so that she, and not the storm, had all my attention.
The thunder rumbled again.
Despite the noise surrounding us, I could only focus on the sound of her breathing. My pulse jumped under my skin, at my neck, in my wrists, in my dick.
I really shouldn’t be doing this.
But it was just a kiss.
And she was so beautiful.
And then it would be over.
I slid my thumb over her bottom lip. “Look at me,” I said.
My gaze flickered down as her breasts rose with her breath. It took every ounce of control not to yank her cami down and put my mouth on that warm, soft, pliant flesh.
As I looked at her, our eyes locked, and this time heat passed back and forth between us, growing more scorching with each passing moment.
She wanted me to kiss her. Maybe even strip her naked on this deck and fuck her hard and long until I knew every part of her.
I groaned, blood rushing to my dick, and leaned in to press my lips softly on the corner of her mouth. Her breath was hot and heavy against my cheek. I dropped my hand to her ass and slid her onto my lap.
Wrapping my hands around her silky hair that smelled of the ocean, I pulled, tilting her head back and exposing her neck.
I’d been kidding myself to think this was just a kiss. I wasn’t sure if it was because it had been so long since I’d fucked someone new or whether it was the storm or just the way Lana looked at me, but my whole body reverberated with lust. I wanted to touch, hold, possess her.
I trailed my teeth along her jaw and she squirmed in my lap. I slid my palms up her thighs and lifted her so she was straddling me.
Just a kiss. Right.
I wanted her closer, so I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and brought her mouth to mine in a fractured, desperate connection. With my other hand, I pushed her ass against me. The heat of her covered pussy against my erection made me groan. Sliding my tongue against the seam of her lips, I delved deeper. Fuck, I’d forgotten how hot making out could be. The stuff before the fucking. Before my reform, it had been all about release. All about seeing how fast I could have a woman’s mouth wrapped around my cock after making eye contact with her.
But not now. Not out here on the porch with Lana. All I could
think about was how I couldn’t fuck her, how I’d never make it that far.
She smelled so damn good. Tasted even better.
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