And I’m going to enjoy every intoxicating second of it.
A thrill runs through me as I reach for his belt, my hands grazing the outline of his hardness. Unfastening each button of his shirt, I can’t strip him down fast enough.
I want all of him, and I want all of him now.
River’s lips press against the hot flesh beneath my jaw, leaving a path of heated kisses that evaporate into the night air. My head relaxes, letting my hair cascade over my bare shoulders as the moonlight paints my skin.
His arm scoops around my back, pulling me closer until I slide down, and a moment later, he’s lowered himself to his knees, sliding my jeans and panties to the ground.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, pressing his tongue between my slick seam.
The way he touches me, so tender, so careful, makes me love his heart even harder than before.
Unzipping his fly, I take his cock in my hand, pumping his generous length until he falls forward, moaning against my ear.
A moment later, he scoops me up in his arms, carrying me to his truck. As soon as we’re in, he pulls me into his lap, cupping his hand around my breast and bringing the nipple to his mouth. Sucking gently and flicking the pink bud with his tongue, he slides his hands down my backside before taking a handful and pulling me harder against him.
His cock throbs against my pussy, and when my hips grind against him, his breathing grows ragged.
“I want this …” I whisper, looking into his deep brown eyes and digging my nails into his broad shoulders. “I want you.”
River buries his head against my chest for a moment, my heart beating wildly, and then he wraps his arms around me. Draping my arms over his shoulders, I kiss his neck, moving to his ear and the side of his face and then his lips again.
My hips buck against his, teasing and tempting, wordlessly telling him I’m his for the taking.
“I’ll never be her,” I say, my voice faint. “No one will. I can only be me … and it’s okay for you to want to be with me, River. It’s okay …”
River exhales, reaching between his legs and taking his girth in his hands. We lock eyes, and he drags the tip of his swollen cock along my seam, and I lower myself onto him … a sweet emancipation.
Rocking my body over his, I impale myself with his length again and again, never letting go, never stopping. His body tenses and releases, his eyes never leaving mine as his hands steady my hips.
River’s thumb circles my clit, pushing me closer to the edge and back with each hungry sway of our bodies. I’m close, but I never want this to end. Burying my face into the side of his neck, I hold on tighter, riding him faster and harder, his hands digging deeper into my fiery skin as the world around us fades into the background and waves of exuberance wash over me.
Climbing off him, I move aside, lowering my mouth to his cock and swallowing his river of sweet release. When he’s finished, he pulls me back to his lap, and I collapse against him, my skin sticking to his.
When I finally muster the strength to peel myself away, our eyes meet.
And River smiles.
Bubbles rise to the surface of the blueberry pancakes I’m making for breakfast the next morning. An old t-shirt of River’s covers my naked body, and my hair is a result of the encore presentation that took place the second we got home, but I don’t care.
His hands slink around my waist, and his lips press into the side of my neck, and it doesn’t get any better than this.
Nothing—and no one—could ruin this moment.
Flipping the pancakes, I giggle. “Stop, you’re going to make me burn these.”
“Who needs breakfast anyway?” he growls, holding me tight.
“Me. I’m starving.”
The sound of the dog barking interrupts our carefree moment, and we both glance out the kitchen window to find a black SUV pulling into the drive.
“Expecting someone?” I ask.
“No. Stay here.” River, who had the foresight to at least put on a pair of pants before coming downstairs for breakfast, tugs a t-shirt over his head before stepping into a pair of boots and heading outside.
I click the stove off and run upstairs to throw some clothes on.
The sound of two men shouting is all I hear when I return. Tearing through the front door and jogging down the stone path, I freeze before I get to the picket gate.
“Grant?” I squint in his direction. “What are you doing here?!”
It’s like seeing a ghost, because for the last couple of weeks, this man has been dead to me. I haven’t missed him. Haven’t thought about him. Haven’t wondered how he’s holding up or what he’s thinking. I haven’t even cared if he’s sorry or remorseful.
“Leighton.” Grant is dressed in a three-piece suit, complete with Gucci loafers and a polished Rolex. His look is comical in a place like this, but he’s too self-involved to notice or care.
“Why did you come here?”
“You repeatedly ignored me. What choice did I have?” His face is washed in incredulous disgust, as if this entire thing is my fault.
“How the hell did you find me?” I ask simply for curiosity’s sake.
“It wasn’t hard. There was a bit of a paper trail with your rental car and a few debit card transactions,” he says, an air of smugness about him. “I spoke with your mother, asking her why you’d be in South Dakota of all places, and she gave me this address.”
“Leave.” River stands between us, not letting Grant take a single step closer. “You’re not welcome here.”
“You stay out of this.” Grant looks at River as if he’s nothing more than a piece of gum on the bottom of his pricey shoes. “Whoever the hell you are.”
My jaw falls. “Don’t talk to him that way. You don’t know him.”
“What,” Grant scoffs, laughing. “Is he your boyfriend? You two fucking or something?”
My arms fold. River gives him a thousand-yard stare.
“My god.” Grant takes a step back, his confidence waning. “You are fucking. Wow, Leighton. Didn’t take you long to move on, did it? You always were quick to spread those—”
Before he has a chance to finish his thought, River socks him across the jaw, sending him stumbling against the hood of his rental Escalade.
“River, don’t!” I run to him just as he’s winding his arm back to take another punch. “He’s not worth it.”
With Grant being a lawyer, he’s got a whole bevy of tricks up his sleeve, and he won’t hesitate to see to it that River spends a little time behind bars if he feels so inclined.
My ex pulls himself up, adjusting his suit and checking his watch for damage. A trickle of blood drips from his left nostril, and the side of his face is ruddy and swollen.
“Leave,” River says again as I hang onto his arm. I won’t let him go down for this. It isn’t his fight.
“I’m not leaving unless she’s coming with me,” Grant says. “Leighton, get your things. We’re going home.”
My nose wrinkles. “Absolutely not. I’m staying here.”