She resisted—just a bit. “I’m sorry, aren’t we skipping ahead in the whole hat-trick thing?”
“Just reversing the order.” Peter smiled as he gently tugged the strap of her top down her arm, kissing her shoulder as he finally—finally—moved his hand to her breast. His touch was still gentle so she pressed herself more fully into his palm even as she straddled him, and yeah, God, there he was. Long and hard and already weirdly-but-wonderfully familiar, except this time she wanted all that gentlemanly accessoriness deep inside of her as she came.
Peter obviously wanted that, too. He’d let go of her so he could push down and kick free from his shorts, and she climbed back off of him, both to get out of his way, and to do some clothing removal of her own. Tank up and over her head, and boxers down her legs.
It was a good thing she wasn’t a man, because she’d be feeling mightily intimidated by his naked perfection. All those muscles, right where they were supposed to be, every part of his body perfectly proportioned to his extra-large size. She’d felt his penis against her, but seeing him for the first time, erect like this, made her laugh, because damn.
But then she flashed both hot and cold because, God, she was naked, too, and the light was on, but the way he breathed, “Jesus, you’re beautiful,” helped. That was his opinion, and even though, like most women, she could list her flaws and imperfections on a full page, single-spaced, who was she to say what anyone else should or shouldn’t find beautiful?
She had lovely skin—she knew that. It was smooth and soft and a beautiful, rich color. And maybe her stomach was a little too soft and full but it seemed to work nicely with the curves of her hips and breasts. Also? She was forty, and she’d lived well and joyfully—borne two beautiful sons with this body that Peter was now studying with real heat in his eyes.
She laughed again as they both reached for a condom, their hands colliding. She pulled back. “You do it, I’ll take too long.”
“Too long sounds fun, but yeah, another time,” he said as he tore open the packet.
She shifted back, just a little, to watch, her hands on the hard muscles in his thighs, his gaze hot as his attention flickered from that task at hand to her body and up into her eyes and back again. He smiled again. “Best earthquake ever.”
She had to agree.
As he finished, she reached for him, wanting to touch, wrapping both of her hands around him as she looked into his eyes. He made a noise of pleasure and his hips rose off the mattress, and she knew he had to work it—hard—to form actual words, even as he reached down to take her by the wrists. “That, too, will be fun, but right now, I want…”
Yeah, she wanted the same thing.
So Shay didn’t wait. She straddled him, reaching down to guide him as she took him deeply inside of her. They both made noise at that—it would’ve been impossible not to, it felt that incredible.
As she began to move against him—with him—she leaned down to kiss him, and he met her halfway, sitting up and pulling her closer to take her mouth with his. His hands were everywhere, touching, skimming her skin as she did the same to him, wanting to touch and, God, taste every inch of him. It was hard to tell where she ended and he began. Her soft fit against his hard with perfection—and she was not one to throw that word around lightly.
And maybe, just because it had been close to four billion years since she’d last done this, it merely seemed so amazing, but she doubted that as she broke their kiss so she could push his shoulders back so he was lying down again. Because she wanted more—and she opened herself wider even as this new position gave her access to that more-of-him that she desperately wanted. They both cried out again, and then both laughed—she in wonder, because they were so in sync.
Peter’s hands were on her hips, and he tried to slow her down.
“Nuh-uh,” she told him, their gazes locked.
“I’m gonna—” he breathed. He was close—she could see it in his eyes, but he didn’t want to go first.
“I know. Me, too,” she gasped. “Tell me when.”
“Ah, Jesus!”
She took that for the now that it was, and immediately shifted gears, slamming them both to a stop, and then lifting herself up off of him and languorously pushing him home. Again. And again. And again. And again.
She came in slow motion, for damn near forever, and she wasn’t sure but she thought maybe he did, too, because he kept saying, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus…”
And when she couldn’t hold herself up anymore and collapsed forward onto him, he put his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. She could feel his heart beating—pounding as hard as her own—and she felt him laugh a little even as he, too, struggled to catch his breath.
But then he started moving again—or at least she thought it was him—but he tightened his arms around her, and said, “Another aftershock.”
Sure enough, it didn’t last long. She lifted her head to look down at him and smile. “You know the sex is crazy great when it creates an aftershock.”
He smiled, too. “For the record, I’m pretty sure that, by the end there, I was tasting words.”
Shayla laughed in surprise, because again, he’d been listening.
She had to climb off of him then, and she muttered something about avoiding the human error factor when it came to the efficiency rate of condoms. But really, she settled onto the mattress beside him so that he wouldn’t have such an unfettered view of her face. This man was so damn good at reading her, and she didn’t think she could hide how much she liked him.
Like him? Pfft. Get real. You love him.
And no, that wasn’t Harry. He was too polite to show up at an intimate moment like this one.
No, that was all her.
She didn’t do casual sex, never had, never would—and to think that she could was sheer idiocy. Oh, God, what had she gone and done?
“You okay?” Peter asked, picking up on her silent freak-out—maybe because for the first time, she wasn’t babbling about something like the ability to taste words. He’d taken care of the condom, and was using one of the towels he’d brought out there to clean himself up.
“Yeah,” Shay said, trying to sound normal, like someone who really was okay about having just had incredibly hot sex with the neighborhood Navy SEAL. “Just…starting to feel the chill, and way too tired to do anything about it.”
“Here.” He put one of the blankets over them both, making sure her feet were covered, even as he wrapped himself around her, spooning her back against his front. She was instantly warmer.
Oh, good. Now the man that she’d already fallen for ridiculously too soon was taking care of her. That would bring her to her senses. That—and the way he kissed her neck, right below her ear, after he’d doused the light…
He sighed a sigh of perfect contentment, and even murmured a sincerely appreciative “Man,” before he instantly fell asleep.
Man, she was screwed.