A Guy Walks Into My Bar - Lauren Blakely Page 0,86

those are nerves flickering across his eyes.

But no, it’s desire I see. Want. Lust. And so much need. As much as I have. As much as I feel.

“Just tell me if it hurts,” I say gently. “Promise me, okay?”

Fitz slides his hands over my chest. “I promise. But it’s not going to hurt. It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

I run a hand along his shaft as I press the head of my cock against his ass and push in a little bit. There’s a moment, I swear, when everything stands still. When I’m barely in him, and his eyes are wide, almost shocked.

“Breathe,” I whisper as I move my body forward, my free hand braced on the bed by the side of his chest.

He nods, takes a deep breath, then exhales. His eyes stay locked with mine as his hands settle on my abs, his fingers spreading over my hips as I go a little deeper.

“Ohhh God,” Fitz grunts, and I stroke him again then sink in farther, his ass gripping me so tightly, so intensely, that I tremble all the fuck over. I let go of his length, setting both palms on the bed.

His fingers curl around my hips, and he’s holding on tight, caught between pleasure and pain.

“Say the word, and I’ll stop,” I say, calm and soft, letting him know I’ll listen to his needs, what he can take, what he can’t.

“Don’t want you to stop,” he mutters. “Just give me a sec.”

I bend my head, brushing a kiss across his jaw. He lets out a deep breath.

Then another as I kiss his earlobe. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper.

I can feel him relaxing under me a little more with each breath.

My body heats, and I’m dying to move in him, but I’ll wait till he gives me the word.

I raise my head, and I do wait for him.

Until he’s ready.

Fitz lets out a low moan, easing me closer with his hands. “I need you so fucking much,” he says, answering me with words then with actions. In a split second, his hands take full control of my hips, and he jerks me close, driving me deeper into him. More than halfway now.

“Oh fuck, babe. That’s so fucking good,” he rasps.

I can’t even speak. It’s more than good. It’s out of this world. It’s in another solar system, as his ass grips my cock in the most intense sensation ever.

Pleasure sizzles across my skin, and I’m a live wire, burning and sparking.

Fitz breathes out hard, then meets my gaze, his lips parting. “All of you. Gimme all of you.”

As I sink inside him, his legs wrap around me. I lower myself so I’m inches from his chest as I bottom out in him.

Nothing exists but him and me and us.

And this.

This intoxication of a long, slow slide into him and the look in his eyes as he takes me all the way at last.

The sound on his lips . . . Yes.

His body lifts, rolls, and arches against me. He’s so fucking sexy, so beautiful, his cock thick and long, jutting between us.

Reaching down with one arm, I hook his right leg tighter around my body.

As I start to thrust into him, reality slams into me—I won’t last long. It feels too good, too perfect.

He is too much of what I want. He is all I want.

He is it.

The shattering truth of that clobbers me. There is no more falling. The falling is done, and I’m here.

I’m in love with James Fitzgerald, this man I didn’t even know a week ago. And now he’s the only one I want.

Desperately. Everywhere. In my body, in my mind, and, inconveniently, in my heart.

Focus on the physical, I tell myself as I stroke in, out. I try to form words of sex, so I don’t stupidly blurt I’m in love with you in the middle of fucking him. My voice comes out rough, gravelly. “Everything good for you?”

“You’re good for me,” he murmurs, so open right now, so vulnerable, and it’s cracking open something inside of me, a piece of my heart that I can’t afford to lose to him.

But I lost the battle.

Days ago.

I didn’t want to feel this, but this couldn’t be stopped. I feel it all. I feel everything, even as I try my damnedest to focus on the physical.

On the heat. On the burn. On the tightness of his viselike thigh muscles wrapped around me. I focus on the hard planes of his abs, his chest,