Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,208

pocket and pulls out his wallet. He finds the condom he stores there, tears the packet open, and rolls it on.

“Get back on the counter and spread your legs,” he commands.

I’m about to protest that it’s too high, but he pushes me back so I’m lying on the counter and he climbs over the top of me.

He pushes my legs apart, so far that my hips scream in pain, and then he jabs himself into me. It’s big, and I grunt at the entrance before my body accepts him in. He starts to move fast—doesn’t give me much time to warm up to his intrusion, but I don’t need it. Our bodies find an immediate rhythm. He pumps and I buck, he bucks and I take it. In and out, back and forth, and then his thumb finds my clit. It’s too much, riding this line of pleasure and pain with him, and his body starts to tremble. I watch his face, his gorgeous face as he starts to come, and the visual sends me into my own orgasm. We come together, riding the crest before we both come back down, and it’s all over too quickly.

On and off, I wanted this to happen since our dinner date not so long ago, and this feels right—like I’m entering a relationship with someone, like there’s feelings involved on both sides, like it’s going to last more than just one night.

I try not to think of that one night, not in the glowing moments after Brian gave me my second orgasm of the night, but I still think of the fact that this man here in my home wants me for more than my body, for more than the night, for more than just sex. Brian and I connected on other levels first, even though I felt like I did with Mark, too, despite the shorter amount of time we had.

I point Brian in the direction of my bathroom to clean up, and I put my panties back on and head toward my bedroom to change out of this costume and into something comfier.

I bend over a drawer to grab a t-shirt, and the comparisons continue in my head. It was good with Brian, great—there’s no doubt. He took control. He dominated without being a dominant, just like we talked about. He gave me what I wanted and he seemed to enjoy himself, too. But this is still so new. There’s still a lot holding me back, still other thoughts in my mind even though I’m trying my hardest to push them away.

I’m afraid those other thoughts are going to consume me and take away my chance at happiness with a man who’s pretty damn close to perfect for me.

Chapter Twelve

“Tell me about your first kiss.” His arms are around my waist, my back to his stomach, both of us spent after going at it for another round—this time in my bed. He playfully fingers the lace waistband of my panties as we talk.

“It was eighth grade, the Valentine’s dance. Girls asked boys, and I asked Jimmy Riggs. ‘Apologize’ by Timbaland was playing and we were slow dancing in that way only middle schoolers do. He just went for it. It was quick, no tongue, right when the teachers weren’t looking. We stopped and looked at each other in a daze. Then after the dance when we were waiting for my mom to pick us up, he did it again, but this time he left his lips there for a minute and started to open his mouth and I was freaked out my mom would see so I stopped it. What about yours?”

“Sixth grade. Chrissie something-or-other, an eighth-grader, behind the dumpsters at Skateland.”

“Sixth grade and eighth grade? She sounds like a cradle-robber.”

He chuckles. “She was hot for my brother. He was a freshman in high school and she was using me to get to him. When I found out she wanted him and not me, I punched him. He punched back, and then we got into an all-out brawl that my mom had to break up. Keep in mind he was almost four years older than me, but I still did some damage.”

I giggle. “So much drama. You two still fight over girls?”

“I don’t know if fight is the right term. But yeah.”

I’d love to meet him. The thought randomly crosses my mind, but it’s way too early to talk about meeting families.

“What about your sister?” he asks. “Do you two compete?”

“Never