Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,42
I hate you.” I was so turned on, I couldn’t even make that lie sound believable.
His chest shook on a low, raspy chuckle. He knew as well as I did, that I was completely full of shit. “You can hate me all you want, Hayden. Just as long as you come undone for me again and again, the way you did in that hotel room.”
My panties were soaked, my nipples throbbed, and my pussy pulsated, wanting him almost to the point of desperation. I was about to close the last remaining bit of space between us, sealing his lips with mine, when my daughter’s voice carried in from outside. “Mommy! Can I have a popsicle?”
Micah and I flew apart like our bodies had given each other an electric shock. The spell was shattered, the air around us, humid and thick with lust only a second ago, now felt chilled.
“Uh, yeah, love bug,” I shouted back so she could hear me through the closed back door. “Be right out.” Moving as far away from Micah as possible, I opened the freezer and pulled out a popsicle, hovering in the open door for a few seconds to let the cold slap against my cheeks and cool the heat that had built inside me.
When I had no choice but to turn around, Micah was right where I’d left him, watching me like a hawk might watch its prey. “What just happened here, or almost happened, or . . .” I shook my head to piece my thoughts together. “Whatever that was. It can’t happen again. Not when we’re living right next door to each other. It isn’t smart.”
He moved in, taking the popsicle from my hand and bending low so his face was all I could see. “You might be right, Red. But smart or not, we’re inevitable, so you may as well wrap your head around that now.”
With that, he turned on his boot and headed out the back door, taking my daughter her popsicle while I tried to get my knees to work.
Micah
Lying on my back, legs spread, one knee bent, my hips lifted off the mattress as my grip tightened around my aching cock. My hand moved faster up and down the shaft as images of Hayden flashed across my eyelids like a slide show. Images of her smiling, of her full, pouty bottom lip glistening from where she’d just licked it. The way her eyes glazed over as she stared at my mouth.
Pre-cum leaked from the tip, making my hand slicker as I jacked myself harder, twisting my wrist each time I reached the swollen, purple crown. I was so close, but I didn’t want to blow just yet. I wanted to make this lasted as long as possible.
The pictures of Hayden shifted, going back to that night. I let out a grunt as I remembered how tight her pussy had squeezed me. When I recalled the little mewling sounds of desperation she made as she clamped down tighter around me, my eyes rolled back in my skull.
I hadn’t been lying when I told her she was the best I’d ever had, and weeks upon weeks of coming from my own hand to the memory of one . . . fucking . . . night were proof of that.
I pictured her mouth as her lips formed around my name, the way her eyes widened for just a second before falling to half-mast every time an orgasm washed over her. I imagined I could feel her nails digging into my skin and raking down my back.
And that was as long as I could hold off. On a groan, I went off, shooting all over my hand and stomach. I came until I was out of breath, until stars danced in front of my vision. Each time I thought I was finished, my dick would twitch and leak more cum until my balls were completely drained from nothing more than a goddamn memory.
That was how good she’d been. And that was why I’d laid it out for her earlier. I hadn’t been bluffing when I told her we were inevitable. If I had to handcuff her to my bed to keep her from running, I would have her again. And again. And a-fucking-gain.
A minute later, still feeling breathless, I got up and shuffled into the bathroom to clean myself up. Once I finished, I pulled my underwear back on and fell into bed.