Remember When (Remember Trilogy #1)

“It’s not funny, Layla! Jesus, look what you’ve done to me.”


I only had the nerve to glance down quickly at the bulge in the front of his shorts. It was enough to make me dizzy, thinking about that same piece of machinery driving against me the day before, first outside by the cars and then later half-naked in his bed. I wondered what the night would bring. Where else could this be heading?

I turned off the water and a moment later, his arm thrust beyond the curtain, offering a towel hanging from his hand.

I grabbed the towel, asking, “You sure you don’t want to help dry me off?”

Okay, I admit it. That was just being mean.

His hand jerked back, disappearing to the other side of the curtain. “Jesus! Okay, just hurry up and get out of here. If you’re not gonna let me in there, then you seriously need to get out of this room so I can take care of this.”

I knew the “this” he was referring to was his raging hard-on, threatening to destroy him unless something was done to take the pressure off. I didn’t know where the newfound boldness was coming from, but I decided that that something was going to be me.

I took a deep breath, wrapped the towel around my body and stepped out into the steamy bathroom. Trip looked pained, barely meeting my eyes when he said, “Out. Now.”

I grinned, loving that I was the one responsible for getting him so worked up. But I didn’t leave.

I stepped closer, backing him against the vanity, sliding one hand up his bare chest, the other across the front of his cargo shorts. He didn’t hesitate to grab my wet hair in his hands and open his mouth over mine. The kiss was electric, jolting me down to my core, the feel of his mouth open over mine and his erection under my hands wildly exciting, out-of-control, the steamy room spinning.

My lips didn’t leave his as I slid my hands to the button at his waist, lowering his zipper, letting his shorts and undies fall to the floor. I took him in my hand, the size of him startling me. I threw open my eyes, looking into his in disbelief. He grinned that shit-eating grin before kissing me again, obviously enjoying my moment of shock. Well, now it was my turn.

I gripped him firmly, the soft/hard feel of him straining into my palm, moving against the motion of my fist. When I pushed downward, he thrust forward, driving himself into my hand. I heard him moan into my mouth and the knowledge that I was the one to put him in such a state was empowering, exciting beyond anything I’d ever known.

I returned the favor, moaning back against his lips, which made him break our kiss and brace his hands against the counter in a white-knuckle grip, his head thrown back to face the ceiling, eyes closed. His teeth clenched as he gritted out, “Mother of God.”

I would have laughed, but I was feeling a bit awed at that moment myself. I leaned over him and sucked at his collarbone, dipping the tip of my tongue into the hollow of his throat, running my teeth along the cord of his neck, biting his earlobe lightly, all the while continuing the rhythm of my hand.

I’d never been that uninhibited before, wanting only to please him with what little sexual knowledge I possessed. My brain long since liquefied, I could only follow the lead of my raging nerve endings, not even bothering to think and just doing whatever felt good. Because what I quickly learned was that if it felt good for Trip, it felt almost as good for me. He wasn’t even touching me and yet I was so completely turned on, my heart racing wildly, every molecule within me threatening to implode. Every touch that wrung a moan from his throat, I intensified, every movement of my hand working on pure instinct and the hope that I was doing something right.

“Layla,” he said, and the mere mention of my name coming from his lips at a moment like that almost drove me mad. Desire pooled through me, all my pink parts tingly and alert, the sudden epiphany that I not only could go all the way with this guy, but wanted to. Wanted to be stripped down with him, wanted every part of his skin pressed against mine, feel him lying on top of me, hot and demanding, taking me right there on the bathroom floor... All I’d have to do is drop the towel...

But Trip was too far gone. “Layla, holy Jesus. I’m gonna… just keep... I... ohhh!” His body lurched forward as his cock went off like a bazooka, which fortunately, was aimed toward my midsection and into the towel I was wearing. His hand wrapped around mine, continuing the movement along his softening member slowly, the aftershocks dribbling out against my belly. It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen!

He slumped into me, his face against my neck, breathing hard, unable to complete a full sentence. “Holy sh... I can’t... wow. Wow. Oh my God!”

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