I Pucking Love You (The Copper Valley Thrusters #5) - Pippa Grant Page 0,76

as he’s giving me—that’s every bit as much of a turn-on as he is.

So I take charge of this kiss. And I slide my hands down his pants to squeeze his bare cheeks.

He growls low in his throat, a raw, primal sound that has my pussy aching in anticipation already again.

He likes me.

He wants me.

It’s time for me to step fully outside my insecurities and show him I feel the same.

30

Tyler

I can do this.

I can use my magical peen to give Muffy the orgasm of her life.

Me and the Wonder Stick are in this together. We’re not panicking. We can do this. We’ve climbed this mountain before.

But never with the stakes quite so high.

She’s kissing me like she’s found the meaning of life, one leg wrapped around my hips. I grab her ass and boost her all the way up so she’s cradling my dick between her thighs, and fuck, she feels good.

She tastes good too.

And the scent of her arousal?

Fucking intoxicating.

It’s game on. Performance of my life.

I can’t do her against the wall. Tried that last time. Didn’t go so well.

Although, was it really a wall?

She thrusts her hands into my hair and her tongue deeper in my mouth, and my brain short circuits.

No wall.

Table.

Counter.

Dog biscuit.

Dog biscuit?

She’s grinding against my boner, and even through both our pants, I can feel how wet she is.

Muffy Periwinkle, sex goddess.

I’m getting her a damn medal. A championship ring.

A cup.

She’s getting the sex cup.

She breaks the kiss with a gasp. “I’m so mad your shirt’s already off. I want to rip it.”

My dick violently agrees that that would be awesome, and the smile blooming on her face tells me she felt his reaction.

“I’ll rip yours,” I promise.

Closet.

My box of condoms is in my closet.

She pumps her hips against my straining cock and leans in to kiss me again, and I go cross-eyed.

I cannot make it out of the kitchen, much less to my closet.

I want to be inside her more than I want to play hockey, more than I want to eat fried fish when I’m stressed, and more than I want to retire on a tropical beach to spend the rest of my days swimming with sea turtles and stingrays.

Fuck it.

I’m getting us to the bedroom.

I turn, slam her into the corner of the door, and we both jolt.

“Sorry,” I gasp.

She tightens her legs around me. “Bedroom.”

I don’t know how we make it, but we do. Muffy’s still kissing me. I’m hard as petrified iron. I want to touch her skin everywhere. I want to sunbathe in the glow of her smile. I want to drown in her gaze.

I settle her on the bed, and I’m about to leave her to make a mad dash to my closet when she produces a condom from her pocket and shoves it in my hand. “Later I’ll tell you how much I hate that your sweat pants have pockets and mine don’t. But right now, will you please do me?”

Her hair’s a crazy mass of curls. Her cheeks are pink. Her lips are swollen and parted, her breath coming fast, her eyes dark and hungry but also happy.

The happy was missing this weekend.

And the idea that she’s happy to be here, with me, is lighting up my soul.

She is what I’m here for.

It’s heavy and freeing all at the same time.

“One rule,” I growl.

Her brows furrow and she shrinks for a split second before she forces a smile back. “Rules, hm?”

“No faking it.”

“Oh,” she whispers.

“Deal?”

She answers by grabbing me by the cheeks and kissing me, and suddenly, nothing else matters.

Nothing but kissing her back.

Touching her.

Learning her curves.

Stripping her out of my pants and T-shirt.

Looking at her, naked against my sheets, a blush creeping over her skin, but making no move to shield herself as I study her body, my gaze following my hands from her shoulders, down her arms, over her amazing breasts, down her gently curved belly, to that adorable belly button, the trimmed patch of hair hiding her sex from me until she parts her legs, letting me take in all the wonder of her womanhood.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” And I’m hoarse. Desperate to drive into her. But equally desperate that she know how badly I want her.

She’s not some quick lay in a dark corner in a club.

She matters.

She raises up on one elbow, legs still parted, and tugs at the strings on my pants. “I want to see you too.”

Far be it from me to tell her no for anything. I shuck