Lady Luck (Colorado #3)

“I don’t know,” I replied. “The same thing I did to drive out of mine straight to you.”


Again, at my words, his big body stilled but this time it went completely still, immobile, like he wasn’t even breathing.

“Though, I took a detour to the beach,” I added.

And that was when I knew Lady Luck had started to like me.

Because three seconds later, Ty Walker threw back his head and burst out laughing.

And I got to watch.





Chapter Ten


I’m the Teacher





Ty was in the shower, hand pressed to the tile in front of him, head bent, water cascading on his neck, back, head, his fist was wrapped around his cock and he was stroking.

I was behind him, pressed tight to his back, alternately kissing and tasting the sleek, muscled skin, my arms around him moving on his chest, his abs, everywhere.

I heard the noises he was making change, they went deeper and I knew.

So I pressed my front tight to his back, my arms tight to his front and I tipped my chin back and whispered over the spray, “Finish in me.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Before I could blink the water out of my eyes, he’d turned, grasped me under my pits, hauled me up and shifted me so my back was to the side wall. My legs circled his hips, my arms his shoulders and he stepped in, my back hit tile, his hands moved to my ass and he filled me with his cock.

Beautiful.

He drove in, pulled out, in again, and again, hands at my ass, mouth on mine alternately kissing me deep and almost brutal then soft and sweet then leaving his lips at mine, our heavy breaths mingling. If he was kissing me, we closed our eyes, if we were breathing, his eyes locked with mine, they were hot, fevered, staring deep, giving and taking.

I kept my legs tight around his hips, an arm tight around his shoulders but I pushed a hand between us to assist his driving cock in taking me there.

Feeling him, seeing him, hearing him, pressed against him and touching him while he stroked himself, living a fantasy I played in my head with my fingers between my legs and no Ty, one that was way better in real life with him right there as close as he could get was so beautiful, so hot, I was primed. Way primed. My finger had to move on my clit for about half a minute before the noises I made went desperate. He heard them and one hand left my ass to curl around the back of my head which was good seeing as a second after it did, my legs spasmed around him, my arm got super tight, my back and neck arched and my head slammed his hand into the tile.

A little while later, my mouth was at his throat when his cock thrust deep and his head jerked back with his orgasm.

A little while later, we finished our shower.

*

I was in a pair of panties and Ty’s tee, my hair wet, standing at the coffeemaker pouring him a travel mug.

Ty was standing beside me, body turned to me, jean-clad hip leaning against the counter, bowl of raspberries, blackberries, banana and yogurt mixed with some of his protein powder cupped in his huge hand held high and he was spooning it into his mouth.

It was Wednesday, two days after we became us. Two magnificent days after we became us. Asshole Ty was long gone. Taciturn Ty was a memory. He didn’t share much verbally but he shared.

Oh yeah, he shared.

And mostly he did this through sex. Lots of it.

He was making up for lost time, so was I, this was true. But it was mostly that it was just that good. We managed to eat and he went to work. Monday night, he worked out after work. Other than that, we were in bed (and once we were on the couch). We’d talk in between times, before we drifted off to sleep, or I would talk, he didn’t say much and I would talk mostly in whispers. This didn’t last long before he turned into me with intent. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hear what I had to say, it was just that we had better things to do.

I shouldn’t compare Ty with Ronnie and wouldn’t tell Ty that, in my mind, I did.

But I did.

I couldn’t help it. I’d had two lovers and they were night and day.

Ronnie, hit and miss. He tried but sometimes he failed and I didn’t have the heart to tell him he did or where he went wrong. It upset him when I did; he’d go into himself or get mildly pissed so I learned to stop doing that.

Ty hit, every time.

Kristen Ashley's books