He knows just how to touch me—and where. My whimpers are an indication of what I want, where I want it, and he knows.
Already he understands my body and can give it exactly what I want.
What I need.
My climax comes out of nowhere and is so strong, I struggle to breathe, my mind a complete blank. The only thing I can concentrate on is the intense tremors wracking my body. Radiating throughout my limbs. It goes on and on, like it’s never going to stop, and I swear at one point, my heart stops beating.
He comes too, a low groan sounding from deep in his chest, rippling across my skin. When it’s over, he presses me into the wall with all of his weight, my sweat-covered skin clinging to his clothes, our bodies still connected. He throbs inside me, his breath harsh, irregular. His mouth close to my ear.
“I like watching you when you come,” he whispers, and I duck my head, still shy sometimes, which is silly.
He has seen me naked so many times over the last few weeks, it’s not even funny.
I nod, still unable to speak. Too overwhelmed by what he makes me feel.
Everything we do together—especially this—feels so good, so right. I’m connected to him in a way that I don’t have with anyone else.
Not my friends. Not my family.
No one.
Just him.
His mouth brushes my ear as he whispers, “I can make that happen again.”
“I know you can.” I smile. I wonder if he can hear it in my voice.
“I do it all the time,” he continues.
A soft laugh leaves me.
“You laugh, but you know it’s true.” He nips my lobe with his teeth. “I can make you come again and again. All night, if you’ll let me.”
A soft sigh escapes me, and when he nuzzles my neck, Crew whispers, “Say something.”
“I love you,” is what I tell him, and he lifts his head so he can stare into my eyes.
“I love you too.” His smile is one of pure satisfaction.
“Take me to bed,” I demand.
“Why?” His hands slide over my bare butt, as if he’s going to carry me to the bed—with him still inside my body. “Are you tired?”
He’s teasing me.
I shake my head. “I want to ring in the new year properly. For the rest of the night.” I kiss him, my tongue darting out for a lick. “With you.”
Crew pulls out of me and lowers me to my feet. I’m kicking off my sandals when I notice something, and I reach for his jaw, turning his head to the side when I see it.
Lip prints all over his neck.
“I need to take a photo,” I start to say, but he grabs hold of me and carries me over to the bed, falling on top of it with me.
“No, you don’t. You have a lifetime to do that, remember?” He kisses me, stealing my breath, but not quite stealing all of my thoughts.
I rest my hand on his chest, stopping him. “Do you think this is going to work? Really?”
His smile is slow. Breathtaking. He touches my cheek. Drifts his fingers across my skin. “Yes, I do. No one else tolerates my rude ass like you do.”
I burst out laughing, joy making my chest hurt. “And no one else understands me like you do.”
He kisses me. “There’s one.”
I frown. “One what?”
“Kiss. I think I’m going to keep track of how many kisses I give you from now on.”
“That’s impossible.”
He kisses me again. “You think so? Watch me.”
Another kiss.
“That’s three.”
And another one.
“Four…”
I climb on top of him, silencing his new countdown with my lips.
We don’t need to keep count.
I know he’s going to give me at least a million more.
EPILOGUE
Crew
Two years later…
We’re at my parents’ house in the Hamptons, celebrating Christmas. Why we’re out here, I’m not quite sure, but my mother wanted to do something different this year, and she didn’t want to spend it with the other Lancasters.
“We have our own family now,” she explained. “With Grant and Alyssa, and Perry and Charlotte. Oh, and you and Wren. And soon there will be plenty of grandchildren.”
She told me this at Thanksgiving, when she called me. Talk about making my balls shrivel up.
“Yeah, well, don’t expect any grandchildren from us yet,” I told her with a nervous chuckle.
Wren just shot me a dirty look, though her eyes were dancing, as if she found my sudden pain hilarious.
She’s a bad girl.
My bad girl.
Presents were already opened earlier this morning. Brunch had been served hours ago and now we’re getting ready for dinner. A formal affair, we’ve all been notified that the men wear suits and the women wear semi-formal dresses.
This sent Wren into distress.
“I don’t know what to wear.” She has four dresses hanging on the closet door, contemplating them as she chews on her fingernail.
I come to stand beside her, tilting my head to the side. “I like that one.”
It’s black and stretchy looking, the fabric shot through with silver sparkly thread. It’ll cling to her like a glove and have me lusting for her the entire night.
I’m into torturing myself when it comes to Wren and her unequivocal hotness, so I’m down.
“Really?” She waves a hand at the dress covered with gold sequins. “I like that one better.”
I shake my head. “Save that one for New Year’s.”
She turns to smile at me. “That’s a good idea.”
Decision made, she grabs the dress and goes inside the walk-in closet to put it on, shutting the door behind her.
“I’ve seen you naked before,” I remind her.
Soft laughter is my answer.
“Why are you getting dressed in there?” I shuck my jeans and slip on a pair of black trousers, realizing I’ll only be able to change into half my outfit because my shirt is hanging in the closet, which is currently occupied by Wren.
“I want it to be a surprise,” she tells me.
I tear off my sweater and stand there waiting for her shirtless. She takes her sweet time, which I know is how she operates, yet I’m impatient anyway. She fusses over her tits and worries they’ll look too big and I have to reassure her that they’re perfect. Because they are.
Just like she is.
The past two years we’ve spent together nonstop, traveling the world. We decided to forego college and get some real-life experience, with Wren adding to her growing art collection during our travels. She came into a small trust fund when she turned eighteen from her mother’s side of the family, and she’s been investing wisely in unique pieces of art ever since.
I might buy her a piece or two, but she deters more than encourages my indulgence in her. Her parents recent divorce and subsequent division of assets has put worry in her, and I hate that.
The Beaumont art collection is a wondrous thing, and it was recently sold in two separate auctions with Sotheby’s. Her parents made an absolute killing. Cecily has already started a new collection.
Wren cried both days of the auction, too overcome at the loss of all that art. She doesn’t know about the piece I bought for her at a different auction, a piece her mother spotted in the Sotheby’s catalog and called me right away to tell me about it.
She will soon enough though. As in tonight.
We’ve traveled all over Europe. Spent a month in Japan. A summer in the Canadian mountains. Two weeks in Switzerland. We return to home base because it’s necessary, and Wren likes to catch up with Maggie, and Lara and Brooke, who are all going to college in New York City. Plus, she wants to spend time with her mother.
Her relationship with her father still isn’t the best, and there was even a period where she didn’t talk to him at all, but they’re speaking more now. She even went and saw him yesterday for Christmas Eve, which was a huge step. He’s living with Veronica, who no longer works for him. She hates art, but she does love spending Harvey’s money.
Figures.
It’s not trendy, spending the holidays in the Hamptons, but my mother has always wanted to be more of a trendsetter. More like she’s adopted that Lancaster trademark I don’t give a shit attitude the rest of us have.
Wren’s mother is here as well, because I asked her to come. I want her to witness what is about to happen tonight, because it’s a game changer.