“Delicious,” he said. “That’s how your cum tastes.”
She nodded, which was probably an odd response, because how would she know, but she was just giving an automatic polite reply. Polite to her addled brain, anyway. Brady moved up beside her and kissed her, a deep, musky embrace that was her and him mixed together. Then he lay back, pulling her onto him.
“Ride me.”
She hesitated, knowing she wasn’t the best at establishing the rhythm required to make it work for the man. So he sat up, moving her legs to either side of his, holding her in his lap, her br**sts pressed to his warm chest. The night air was cooler than she had expected and she was feeling the chill, but not pressed against him like that. Not with his muscular arms wrapped around her, making her feel protected and very feminine.
“I love your hair,” he said, burying his face in her curls. “It’s so soft and shiny . . . like a magical mystery tour.”
She laughed softly, very aware of his erection pressing against her still-damp sex. “Are you comparing my hair to a Beatles album?”
“I think I am.”
“Thank you.” Piper started to move her hips, bumping against him, wanting more. Her ache had resumed, and had increased to a deep throb, and he was so close to being inside her, yet wasn’t attempting to take her.
“Take it if you want it,” he murmured, kissing along her jaw, nipping at the corner of her mouth. “Or maybe I’ll just give it to you.”
Shifting slightly, he pushed inside her. Their moans burst out simultaneously, his jagged and raw, hers high-pitched and shocked.
“Oh, Brady,” she said, because there didn’t seem to be anything else to say.
His eyes locked on hers. “Piper.”
There was something about the way he said her name that threw her. Was it supposed to sound like that? So focused, so intense, so reverent? Was that how a man who was having a casual affair sounded? She didn’t know. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, read anything into what he was feeling.
But she knew what she was feeling, and it wasn’t casual. It was so far from casual it needed more than six degrees of separation. At least seven, maybe eight.
Brady thrust up into her once, twice, then he wrapped his arms around her and brought her down on top of him. Her br**sts splayed on his chest, her hair fell over his shoulders and face. Her hips were forced to spread in a way that brought her body in intimate connection with his, her clitoris rubbing on him, his c**k buried deep inside her. She reached up to pull her hair back, force it back over her shoulder. He helped her, tucking it behind her ears, then pulled her mouth to his for a soft kiss.
His expression when their kiss ended was so searing, Piper had to close her eyes. She couldn’t see those green eyes, couldn’t imagine that he was as fascinated by her as she was by him. She couldn’t do that to herself, so she closed her eyes and sat up, bracing herself on his chest. Moving her hips, she rode him, like he’d requested, enjoying the full length of him in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible. He was big, he filled her, but it was a delicious stretching and she picked up the pace, feeling a little desperate, the aching in her sex moving upwards to invade her heart.
Letting go of his chest, she dug her fingers into her hair, dragging it back off her face, wanting to feel the air on her face, cool her heated skin, cool her heated emotions.
“Can I come?” he asked, gripping her hips tightly, grinding up inside her.
Piper opened her eyes. The urgency on his face sent a shiver through her. “Of course you can, sweetheart,” she said, mimicking his earlier words.
“I need to come.” He gritted his teeth.
“So do I.” It was amazing, but she did. The position tripped off little ripples of pleasure all up and down her moist channel, and she was going to come with him.
“Holy shit.” Brady closed his eyes briefly, then held her hard enough to bruise her, thrusting with a fierceness that took her breath away.
The hot throb inside her had her squeezing her muscles onto his erection, and her orgasm blended with his, their cries puncturing the still night air. It went on and on and she was amazed her body was capable of such intensity, such depth. She let it express the emotion she couldn’t, the acute pleasure she felt when she was with Brady.
Piper collapsed onto his chest, sweaty and out of breath, a cool shiver trailing over her skin, her heart thumping, her thoughts both awed and frightened.
Brady stroked her back and played with her hair. “Damn, girl. You nearly killed me.”
“You feel pretty alive to me.” Piper listened to the rapid thump of his heart in his chest. Her hips ached from the position but she didn’t want to move. She wanted to hold on to this moment, to memorize it, to take it with her.
But the goose bumps on her flesh had him rolling her onto her side. “You’re cold.”
“I’m not sure I care.”
Brady pulled the sleeping bag around them like a hot dog bun and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for fulfilling my teenage fantasy. Look, there’s the big dipper.” He pointed to the sky.
“I think you already showed me that,” she told him, grinning as she snuggled up against him. He was big and strong and warm.
He let out a bark of laughter. “True that.” He gave a yawn. “If this were a camping trip we could sleep like this.”
She didn’t say anything, not sure what point he was making. Or trying to make. Not wanting to think about how it would feel to wake up with Brady.
“I guess we should go back to the house.”
“Guess so.”
Neither one of them moved. The truck bed wasn’t particularly comfortable but she didn’t care. She was warm, her body satisfied. The moment lingered, and she wanted it to.
But with a groan, Brady sat up and crawled around the truck, collecting his discarded clothes, and the moment was over. Trying not to sigh, Piper did the same, grateful her panties were white. It was easier to find them in the dark. She lay back down on the sleeping bag to pull them on. A few more seconds, more fumbling with clothes and zippers and shoes, and they were dressed.
Like nothing had happened. But it didn’t feel that way. When she jumped down off the truck into Brady’s arms, she felt light-headed, and it had nothing to do with dropping four feet to the ground.
She was glad to be driving. It gave her something to do with her hands. Even though she was very aware of him next to her, she could pretend she had to keep her eyes on the road. At one point he brushed her hair off her shoulder, but otherwise he was as quiet as a church mouse, something she did not normally associate with him. What was he thinking? Was he as stunned as she was?