Disorderly Conduct (The Academy #1)

No. No, I promised her something better. How, though. How? I don’t know the first thing about making Ever feel special. Which is why I shouldn’t have chased her in the first place, after she decided to move forward with her life. I was so goddamn selfish, but I couldn’t help myself. She’s . . . Ever.

Her fingers lace through my hair, her walls tighten around my cock and I’m drowning in the urge to claim her, while battling the responsibility to honor her in some way. The way I should have been doing all along. “Charlie.” She shhh’s against my mouth. “Everything is going to be fine. Just kiss me slow.”

I’m not sure I can manage to feel her tongue and go anything but fast, but she opens her lips, squeezes my hair in two fists . . . and slants my head, directs me. She’s saving me. A life preserver in a storm. I’ve been in this storm for days—I was barely surviving until now. But what about tomorrow?

“Ever . . .” I rasp, licking at her top lip. “More.” My hips rear back and roll forward. “Give me more of that. Need more of everything you got.”

Same way we do everything, what happens next is instinctual. Ever’s hand puts pressure on my shoulder, but I’m already rolling onto my back, my spine curving like it’s going to snap. She’s never moved on top of me like this. Like she’s riding a mechanical bull in slow motion. Tweaking her hips back until she’s dancing on my tip, swiveling her hips on the way down, rubbing her clit on the thickest part of my root. I’m turned on out of my mind, because that place where we’re joined is so fucking wet, I know she’s hot for an orgasm. Needs it. But she wants the build.

Jesus, I want it too. I need her mouth. I want all of her against me, so I don’t miss a single shudder or gasp or bead of sweat. Jackknifing into a sitting position, I band an arm around her waist, pumping my hips in that same deliberate, but filthy grind. “Put your hands on top of your head,” I growl against her mouth. Her wet, swollen mouth. “Take all that hair and get it up. Let me see your neck. Need to see every part of you.”

Her face tips up toward the ceiling on a moan, her body riding mine in long, hot glides. Those hands of hers shake as she gathers her blonde strands, making a mess of it on top of her head. “Charlie, it hurts,” she whines. I live for that whine. “I can’t last.”

This is the other reason I wanted her hands on her head. Her nipples shake when she comes and now they’re right there, swaying in front of my mouth like God’s gift to man. We might be making love, but I still lap at her tits like a filthy beggar, sucking them deep into my mouth, batting them with my tongue. “Somewhere along the line, you became mine, didn’t you, Ever? Didn’t you?” My own release is building, snatching away any control I have over my mouth, my actions. “I’ve been writing my name on every part of you. Knew it and couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t help it since day one. Mine, mine, mine.”

The muscles in my stomach start to contract, twisting and knitting into a pattern old as humankind, but new and fresh every time with this woman. Looking down, I watch her take my cock in and out, faster now. Faster. Her hands are still locked together on top of her head, making her look like a prisoner. My prisoner. Except, I’m hers. This whole time I thought our lack of commitment was setting me free, but in truth, she’d thrown away the key to my freedom the minute she opened her mouth. She didn’t mean it, my Ever, but I’m imprisoned forever, just the same.

Her pussy tightens like a fist on me, telling me the end is coming. I suck her nipple into my mouth the second tremors begin to rack her body, her hips pumping overtime, her lips busy on my face, in my hair. Kissing, gasping, kissing.

“Charlie.” Her voice vibrates, catches. “Stay, stay, stay.”

My heart hurtles into my throat and expands to eight times its normal size. “I’m not going anywhere.” Not tonight. We grit one another’s name as she bears down, working out the last drop of her climax—and then I’m on top again. Mindless. Living for my next thrust. “Pull me in tight. Help me get so deep. Help me.”

Ever’s fingernails dig into the flesh of my ass, yanking me toward the wet goddamn paradise of her hot, little pussy. Our damp skin smacks together, both of us moaning loud enough to drown out the music, the groaning bedsprings. I can’t keep my mouth off of her. It’s sucking on her neck, attacking her lips, raking over her ear and whispering filthy words, praising words. A rushing sound is blaring in my head like static. I need to come. Need to come. But this could be the last time with Ever and I hear the sounds I’m making. Like a wounded animal. A desperate idiot.

I’m holding on until I can’t anymore.

“You’re disappearing into the crowd again, Ever,” I say against her mouth, even though the words were meant to be contained in the whirling shit show inside my head. “You won’t ever get hurt, as long as I’m breathing. I’ll know if you’re in trouble, won’t I? I’ll know and I’ll come get you. You’ll let me, won’t you?” My lungs are drained, my body falling into the abyss, driving into my home, again, again, again. “Say yes, say yes, say yes. Don’t take that away from me.”

“Yes.” Ever’s thighs hug my waist, the miracle of her hands helping me grind out my peak. My hips are moving in a jagged, unpredictable rhythm, but Ever knows exactly when to lift, when to squeeze. When to lie still and let me pummel her with rough pushes of my draining cock. “Yes, Charlie,” she cries into my shoulder. “Yes.”

But when I fall on top of her a moment later, sweat sliding off our skin into the bedclothes, I wrap my arms around her. I hold tight. And I swear, I can still feel her vanishing. No.

Ever must sense my struggle, because she finds a way to save the moment. Make it last forever. Lip caught between her teeth, she eases out from beneath me and flings a hand out to some nearby surface, bringing back her phone. Then she takes a picture of us together where we gasp, side by side, on the pillows. The picture I asked her for that day we kissed in the park hits my phone across the room a few seconds later. We meet eyes . . . and she’s so beautiful, I never want to look away.

I’m not sure I can anymore.





Chapter 22





Ever


I’ve never experienced this floating feeling. It’s not like the buzz that comes after one glass of wine, or the post-tequila shot fizzy lift. This post-sex, presleep period is a notch in the space-time continuum where everything outside the bed is just old Friends reruns and loathsome responsibilities. There’s no reason to leave. Ever. Especially when Charlie’s hand creeps across the bed and our fingers slide into a smooth, woven pattern, totally singular to us.