3

3

Cope knew exactly what he was doing when he showed up at Brody’s door on Friday night. Brody had invited friends over for a guy’s night while the women would be heading out dancing. Not a bachelor party with strippers or anything. Brody and the rest of the crew were past that.

He had no intention of sitting around playing cards and drinking beer while Ella was out looking hot and dancing at a club. In a while, he’d make the suggestion that they go out and connect with the ladies to have a unified bride and groom party. The rest of the guys would pretend to fight the idea for all of thirty minutes, and then they’d head out.

The idea that men didn’t want to be in the company of beautiful women when they were dressed up and ready to dance and have fun was absurd. He found men who proclaimed to want man caves, without the presence of women, hard to understand. If the ladies didn’t want them along, that would be different. He wasn’t a stalker or anything. But from everything he’d ever learned about women, they liked being around their men too.

“Wait up,” Ben called as he caught up with his brother on the porch. “You can carry this.” He shoved a bag full of chips, dogs and five kinds of dip at Cope.

“Glad to be your pack mule. I hear that happens to you when you get old.”

“What? You’re smart enough to con younger people into hauling your shit?” Ben snorted. “Hey, listen, I’m going to support you when you inevitably suggest we go and hang out with the ladies, won’t I? You can carry some chips.”

Oh. Well, yes then. “Sure.” He shrugged, and they went into the house. The place had been a single man’s paradise a year before, but now a family lived there. Cope liked it better now. He smiled as he thought of Brody’s daughter. Rennie’s backpack was hung on a peg near the door, her little rain boots lined up under the bench. They’d filed all the paperwork for Brody’s formal adoption of Elise’s daughter earlier that week. She was a tough little girl, smart, funny, and his friend loved her fiercely. Watching them grow into a family had taught Cope what it meant to truly love another person. He wanted that, craved that connection and rhythm that was so much bigger than him.

The sound of laughing women caught Ben and Cope both as they slowly entered the main family room where Brody sat talking to Adrian.

“They’re jammed into our bedroom.” Brody tipped his chin in the direction of the back hallway leading to the master bedroom. “Women and skimpy clothes all over the place.” He grinned. “I’m a lucky man.”

Cope grinned right back at him. “I happen to agree with you. Speaking of pretty women, what about the youngest one? Where’s Rennie?”

“Her grandparents picked her up from school. They’re keeping her this weekend. But she’ll be at the engagement party tomorrow.”

“Dude, don’t forget to tell them she got an A on her very first essay.” Adrian shook his head at his brother. “She was quite insistent that everyone would want to know.”

“My kid is smart. Everyone knows that.” Brody tried to sound tough, but Cope heard the pride and love in his voice. “She was pretty damned proud of herself. Elise and I told her if she kept it up, we’d go to Disneyland next summer.”

A burst of laughter and chattering from the bedroom rose and then faded again. Todd came in the front door with a few more of their friends. Cope half listened to them, taking the beer handed his way, nodding his head. But his attention was focused on that hallway.

The door opened, and the sound level rose enough that the men silenced, their attention snagged as they turned toward the uniquely female noise.

Elise came first, her pale, elegant beauty highlighted by a deep red sweater and a black skirt that came to mid-thigh. The woman had spectacular legs, no doubt. Brody’s mouth curved into a smile as he took her in. Envy crept into Cope’s heart; he wanted that. Wanted to look at a woman and know she was the one.

Erin looked pretty and damned pregnant in a high-waisted dress with big red roses on it. Ben sighed happily as she headed straight to where he stood with Todd. For that moment, everything was right in their world, and Cope would do his best to continue to attempt to mediate the damage between their father and sister and Ben.

Despite Ben’s happiness and success, their father and sister had walled Ben out of their life because his brother had found his happiness with a man and a woman. It galled Cope to no end. Ben had been the golden boy, the kid who rarely got in trouble in school, got great grades. He had been a good cop, a good friend and no doubt, he was a great brother. Their father’s reaction to Ben’s unconventional relationship was stupid, and it had split their family in half.

He turned his attention back to the hallway. Waiting. Anticipation and then a punch to the gut followed as Ella came next, her normally sleek, short red hair tousled and curled. Her face, usually bare of makeup, bore just a bit, enough to line those spectacular eyes. Her lips were stained dark, calling to his gaze, leaving him wondering for the millionth time what she’d taste like.

She wore pants. She usually did. He’d always assumed it had to do with the scarring she ended up with after her ex-boyfriend attacked her. The bastard had had every intention of killing Ella. So, to Cope, just being alive and beautiful, being strong in the wake of such a terrible ordeal, meant she won.

It didn’t hurt at all that she had great legs and wore the pants well. Tight, with boots on her feet, showcasing legs that went on and on and on. Damn. The shirt, shit, if you could call it that, was more of a corset with barely enough fabric to cover her areolas. Her breasts made him lose his hearing for a few moments. She didn’t often have them on display, a pity because it wasn’t like she could hide their size, even in a T-shirt. Just then they heaved up, mounds of creamy flesh, freckles sprinkled across the luscious curves.

Christ.

“Wow. You ladies look gorgeous.” Brody got up, moving to Elise, and no one else existed for the two of them for long moments. Their connection was palpable and staggeringly intimate to see. Cope couldn’t tear his attention away for a long moment.

“You guys just going to hang out here all night?” Elise asked, blushing as she broke her gaze from Brody.

“Maybe.” Brody grinned and kissed his wife-to-be quickly before turning to his sister. He touched Erin’s belly and kissed the top of her head. “You better take care of yourself.”

“You can’t smoke indoors anymore, so the air will be clean of that. I have no plans to drink, and I have enough energy to sit at the table and watch everyone else dance while I eat a few of the red velvet cupcakes Ella brought.” Erin smiled sweetly at her brother. “Anyway, we all know you’ll show up in an hour or two, so I’m sure Ben and Todd will take care of me once that happens.”

Cope moved nearer to Ella so he could speak just to her. “I like that color on you. Sets off your skin and hair.” The shirt was deep blue with just enough purple to compliment her skin outrageously. The breasts helped, in the way breasts always did. But this was more, and he let himself drift a little closer, breathing her in.

Some things were natural; flirting was one of them, and he realized that simply because he’d given up his wandering, it didn’t mean he couldn’t use every skill he had to lure Ella. He smiled as she drew in a shaky breath.

“Thanks. It was Erin’s idea. I don’t normally ...” She waved around her breasts. “You know, show this much boob.”

He was sure his grin was wolfish because she was ringing his bell like it was dinnertime. Christ, what she did to him without even knowing it. “Ella, I must dissuade you from that policy. You have beautiful breasts. They’re a delightful addition to anything you wear. Trust me, please.”

Her laugh was sultry. On a lower register than her speaking voice. Which wasn’t that hard, given her normal voice. And beyond sexy. He was sure that was her sexually interested laugh. She’d finally reacted to him as a woman did to a man she was truly flirting with. Victory flushed through him, and hope that things could move forward with her at long last.

“I’ll, um, keep that in mind.” Her lips quirked up in one corner.

“You know, you’re like a cartoon character. Like a quirky super-hero.” Holy shit, did he just say that out loud?

Her eyes widened, surprise washing over her features. His heart began to plummet into his gut when genuine pleasure pushed the surprise back.

“Andrew, I gotta tell you, that was one of the most awesome things anyone has ever said about me. Wow.” She cocked her head, the grin on her lips zinging through him like a pinball. “Thank you.”

He ducked his head, fighting off a blush. “Well, sure.” Who knew he was even capable of a blush these days? Damn, he was sweet on her.

Before he could say anything else, the others called to her that it was time to leave.

“See you later.” She smiled at him, and he took her hand, kissing the knuckles.

He gave her a look, showing her exactly what he wanted to be seeing later. Her pupils expanded, and she blinked quickly, licking her lips.

“You’d better. I want to get a long look at the tattoo you’re finally showing off a bit.”

He stood so close he caught the throb of the pulse point just beneath her ear. “All right.”

Elise leaned closer to Ella with a grin. “Well now, is it just me, or was there some major chemistry between you and Cope tonight?”

Ella laughed as she fanned herself with the napkin. “He really turned up the flirt on me, didn’t he? He’s never been like that before, not with me. He’s a lethal weapon. I’m sure I acted like a total idiot, but he makes me forget how to speak. Flusters me. I’m sure it’s just pity or bored reflex.”

Elise rolled her eyes. “Do you really think that? Deep down, doesn’t it feel different? Because from my perspective, it looks different. I’ve seen him flirt many times. Like, a lot, which, gah, doesn’t sound very good, but hold on for the point. Flirting for him is sort of automatic. He’s irrepressible that way. But he doesn’t really mean it. Watching him with you was totally a different thing. He meant it. Whatever he said, Ella, he meant. He did that murmur thing men do when they, well when they want to make you all tingly. God knows when Brody does it, I’m all gooey.”

Erin leaned in. “We talking about how Cope totally eye-fucked Ella at your house?”

Ella nearly choked on her drink. “He did not!”

Elise snorted. “He was an inch from you, oh yes, speaking to you in that sex murmur they do. He kissed your hand at the end!”

Her skin still felt the heat and pressure of his lips. “I do not deny that Andrew Copeland has major game. He does. Like a lot. But he sees me as a friend, nothing more.”

“Are you huffing paint? He does not eye-fuck women. Looks at ’em, likes to have sex with them, yes, but I’ve only seen him that focused on a few things in the time I’ve known him. Never, not once, was it about a woman.” Erin sipped her mineral water.

The music got louder, providing Ella with cover. Truth was, he’d been so sexy with the flirting he’d made her wet and achy. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that with mere words.

“I’m gonna dance,” she said, waving to one of the other women in their group who was motioning at the dance floor.

As it happened, one of her favorite dance songs came on, Whitney Houston’s “It’s Not Right.” Smiling, she headed out, people all around her, the music throbbing, the crowd bobbing. There was no fear, only the joy of moving and enjoying the music.

A man sidled up behind her, and she moved away, hating that aspect of going out dancing. But he followed, so she spun and found herself facing the aforementioned game-haver, Andrew Copeland. Well, all right then, that was a totally different thing than some stranger trying to rub his dick all over her in the dark. Her heart jumped and did a cheer with the rest of her body, all for him. Damn, he was ridiculously hot.

She smiled, and he gave her one in return, easing back into the space he’d ceded when she thought he was just some dude trying to cop a feel in the dark.

Women seemed to be drawn to him like he was a magnet. They crowded in, trying to get his attention, but he never took his gaze from her, as if no one else in the world existed for him. If he’d acted any other way, she’d have been uncomfortable on a different level. But those other women didn’t matter to him at all, and that made her feel ten feet tall.

Even hotter, he knew how to dance. He didn’t crowd her but lured her instead, until she found herself very close. His gaze was locked on hers, drawing her in. She couldn’t deal with how exposed she felt, so she spun again, facing away and breathing deep.

Until he was right against her, his body like a magnet as she arched her back to get closer.

Two martinis would be her alibi the next day when she realized what she’d done. Right then, though? Well, she closed her eyes and let the music pulse through her, let go of her fear and just danced. With him, against him, their bodies sliding against each other. His palm slid around her waist, cupping her hip bone a moment before moving around to her belly. The shirt hem had risen, and the heat of his bare skin burned against her stomach.

Every part of her was electrified as pleasure like she’d never felt rushed through her veins. The freedom of the moment, the lack of fear, the delicious sexual tension, the chemistry of music, vibration and movement putting her under their spell.

And she went willingly for the first time in years.

His forearm pressed against her belly and side, so hard and muscled. Whitney’s voice rose into the last chorus, and Ella turned, laughing, as it ended.

He leaned in quick and kissed her before stepping back and leading her to the table where the men had joined them. It was just a peck, she told herself, but she didn’t stop smiling because she was happy either way.

“You’re an amazing dancer,” he said to her as she slid into the booth.

“Pshaw. Thank you. You too.” Thank goodness it was dark and hot in there, or she’d be horrified by her blush.

“What other talents are you hiding?” He got very close as he spoke, his breath on her neck. He’d turned on the flirt again, made her drunk with it.

She laughed somewhat shakily. “I’m really not that interesting, I swear.”

“On the contrary, Ella, I find you fascinating. You want another drink?”

On impulse and because he flustered her, she blurted out, “Tell me one thing about yourself no one knows.”

He paused, clearly surprised by her question, and then shrugged. “Only if you do the same.”

“All right.”

“I love poetry.” He said it while his gaze danced away for a moment. Was he embarrassed? Did he not know that it made him even sexier?

“Like what?”

“It’s getting loud in here. Come with me into the bar. We’ll get drinks, and my ears won’t bleed.”

She shrugged and let him pull her from the booth. Once standing, she turned back to the table, leaning over Adrian to speak to Elise. “You want a refill?”

Cope wanted to punch Adrian in the face for the way he looked at Ella’s boobs. Yes, they were right there in his line of vision, and goddamn if they weren’t mouthwateringly gorgeous, but they weren’t Adrian’s to gaze at.

He stepped over just a bit until Adrian looked up and discovered he’d been caught. Cope flipped him off, and Adrian waggled his brows before going back to look. Annoyed, Cope hooked a finger through one of her belt loops and tugged. She turned with a grin and let him pull her to him.

“Ready?”

She nodded, and he sheltered her against his body and pushed through the crowd, keeping people from crowding her too much. Just to be safe, he kept an arm around her waist, liking how she felt.

The volume level dropped back down to only partially insane once they reached the back bar. One arm to either side of her, he bracketed her with his body as she moved forward. It shielded her from the crush of the crowd and kept her against him.

She rattled off drinks to the bartender, who nodded, looked down at her tits and grinned as he went to work.

“Pablo Neruda,” he said softly in her ear, partly to answer her earlier question and partly to snag her attention again.

She froze a moment, not knowing what he meant, until she remembered the poetry conversation.

Leaning her head back, she caught his gaze. “Really? I admit I don’t know all of his stuff. I had a world lit course a million years ago.”

“I’ll have to remedy that. Now it’s your turn.”

“I told you, I’m not that interesting. But I do enjoy poetry too. What little I know if it.”

“Really?” He tossed money on the counter before she could pay. She frowned and, without thinking, he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “You’re far more beautiful without the frown. It’s my round anyway.”

Her expression was a cross between consternation, anger and appreciation. There was a story there, he could tell. Question was, should he pursue it now, or wait?

“I like to pay my own way.”

“Next round you can.”

She lost some of the tension in her face and nodded. “Thank you.”

He grabbed the beers, and she got Erin’s water. Again he sort of shielded her with his body as he muscled through the crowd. It was . . . delicious to feel protected by a man as big as Cope was. He was so much, just took up so much space. He seemed more serious with her of late, and it drove her mad. Sometimes she allowed herself the opportunity to obsess over whether he was actually showing romantic interest in her, especially after the things Elise and Erin had said earlier. Mainly she just told herself he was flirting like he did with everyone else. Nothing more.

When they got back, he followed her into the booth, his body pressed against hers until she felt faint with his nearness. God, what a fabulous night this was!

“Which poets do you like?”

“Mary Oliver. ‘Wild Geese’ is a poem that breaks my heart each time I read it. It’s so beautiful, achingly so. Marge Piercy, love her fiction too. Edith Wharton.” She hadn’t had much time to explore things like poetry, but Mick would e-mail her poems, song lyrics, he’d write her letters with photographs and dried flowers tucked between the pages. She smiled, thinking about how her brother had always known when she needed those little check-ins from him the most.

Cope slid a fingertip down the tender skin of the inside of her forearm, snagging her attention. “I like that smile. What are you thinking about?”

“My brother Mick. He’s the one who introduced me to Mary Oliver. He’s one of those people you love getting letters from.”

Cope’s smile warmed her in a way not at all connected to sex. It was understanding, open and interested in what she was saying.

In order to be heard over the music and dull roar of people shouting to speak to each other, he had to lean in close, his breath against her neck and ear. “Oh, like with ticket stubs and funny newspaper articles tucked inside? Sometimes just a photograph of a beach or a tree?”

“Exactly! He can go months without a word, and then one of those. Usually just when I need it most. Who’s your letter sender?”

“My dad’s brother, my uncle Ted. My mom always jokes that he’s an old bum, but he sails all over the world. Or he did. He worked on crews on every boat imaginable. He’d send the family these letters. Once every six months or so a packet of them would arrive filled with sand or shells, these small-town news stories, drawings and sketches. It was like Christmas when that packet arrived.”

They talked, shared and laughed for some time. Long enough that Ella forgot anyone else was around but for the moments they’d been jostled by their friends getting in and out of the booth. He’d stayed so close, reaching out to touch her often, leaning in to speak quietly in her ear as he explained something.

Cripes, she was going to combust at this rate.

On one of those rare moments when she took the time to look around at their friends gathered, she caught sight of Erin. Ella wanted to stay and talk with him more, but Erin was looking tired. She tried to hide it, but Ella saw through it. Ben and Todd would soon enough too.

“Erin looks tired. Back me up when I suggest we go back to Brody and Elise’s,” she murmured, and Cope squeezed her hand quickly in answer.

“Why don’t we go back to Brody and Elise’s? Getting loud and warm in here. We forgot the cupcakes over there anyway. They’re in my car, and it would be a sin to let them go to waste.” Her car was back at the house because they’d taken a limo to dinner and then to the club.

Elise turned to look at Erin and then back to Ella, nodding. She stood, and Brody with her. They were so beautiful together, Ella thought, right, in synch. “You know my opinion on cupcakes.”

“I want pizza.” Brody joined with the others of his tribe—the tribe of giant men—and they eased the way out of the club onto the sidewalk outside. She breathed deep, letting the relative silence and the freedom from the crush of people slide through her, calming her.

“Wait.” Cope touched her to stay her movement. “Now I want to look at your ink. I wanted to do so at the house, but you got rushed off.” She bit back a moan when he circled her, tracing the blossom on her shoulder. “It’s so beautiful against your skin. I can’t wait to see the whole thing.”

She blushed, gripping her coat tight against her belly. Taking the shiver of pleasure as a sign she was cold, he chuckled and helped her shrug into her coat. Something like that from another man might have bothered her. It might have felt like manhandling. With Cope, from Cope, it was nurturing without feeling coercive or paternalistic.

“Limo is going to be pretty full,” Cope said casually as they walked toward the lot next door. “I drove. You want to catch a ride back with me? I haven’t had a drink in hours, so I’m fine to drive.”

Had they been talking for hours? It seemed like ten minutes. And did she want a ride from him? Really? Was that a trick question?

“Ella, get out of the cold!” Elise called to her, waving at the limo. “The boys will meet us back there.”

Damn.

The men moved to Cope’s SUV and began to pile in, so she smiled at him. “Thanks anyway, I guess they have it handled.”

He walked her to the limo door and helped her in. “I’ll see you back at the house. Save me a cupcake.”

She waved as he shut the door, and the limo pulled away.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Elise said. “I thought after I spoke that you might want to be alone with him in the car. You two seemed to really be, um, wow, with each other tonight.”

“He was just being polite.”

“He’s never that polite to me,” Elise said, one of her eyebrows sliding up.

“That’s different. He’d never flirt like that with a friend’s girlfriend.” She was insulted on his behalf. He’d never do anything like that!

“Exactly! You’re a single woman in his eyes, and I can only say it’s about time.” Erin leaned back with a smirk. “And don’t think I don’t know you called it an early night because of me.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m too old for all that noise. I have presents in my trunk too.”

Erin’s face lit, making Ella laugh. “Presents! Wheee!”

“You’re a present whore.” Elise grinned.

“Totally.”

“We should have taken over Adrian’s house tonight,” Elise said as they got out once they arrived home. “Had a slumber party.”

“He would have loved that.” Erin snickered. “He has a movie theater and soda on tap. I would live in his house if I could. I also know Brody would be a grumpy butthead if he had to be separated from you tonight.” Erin looked up and caught sight of Todd as he waited on the porch. “I sleep better at home anyway,” she said, her voice fading at the end as her man caught her attention fully.

They were all going to have hot sex that night, and Ella was not. She frowned a moment until she caught sight of Cope, but he was on his phone, looking serious.

When he hung up and turned to face her, she knew he was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear.

He caught up to her in the front hall where she’d removed her coat and pulled her boots off. In her bare feet, he nearly towered over her. She wondered idly if she’d have been nervous if it were anyone but him.

“Hi, there.” She smiled up at him, still slightly tipsy.

He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed. “Hey. I’m sorry, I can’t stay. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay? We’re having a problem with one of our systems. I’m on call tonight, so I have to go.”

“Sorry to hear that.” She shouldn’t be disappointed, for heaven’s sake. He had a job to do. He owned his own business, so of course he had to do stuff like this. At least he wasn’t a cop anymore. She knew she’d have worried way more in that case. As a friend, of course.

“Listen, how about we carpool tomorrow? It can be our little nod to being green and stuff. Also, we live close enough to each other so it makes sense.” He cocked his head, and she probably would have agreed to just about anything he’d proposed; the way he looked at her was irresistible.

“I have to be at Adrian’s a few hours early to help out.”

He grinned, and everything in her body did the wave.

“What a coincidence, me too. Works out even better.” That damned grin again, and she was totally lost.

“All right. If you’re sure you don’t mind. I’ll be out front at two, okay?”

He frowned and still was beautiful.

“How about no? What do you think I am? I’ll park and come get you. You’re not going to wait in the cold for me at the curb. Go on in and have a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow. I may even be back here later on, depending on how complicated this call is.”

She watched him hug Elise and Brody, kiss Erin’s cheek and wave good-bye at the room full of people before he moved back to where she stood.

“See you tomorrow, Ella.”

It was the way he looked at her, she decided, that was different. He looked into her face, into her eyes and held her gaze.

“Yeah, see you then.” She waved like a doofus and didn’t even pretend she wasn’t looking at his ass as he walked down the front walk to his car.

“Whoo,” she muttered before turning back and going into the main room.

Cope slumped through his front door some hours later, exhausted and annoyed that he’d missed his chance to get closer to Ella. The elderly lady he’d spent the last several hours with had reminded him of his grandmother. So he’d stayed with her, had some tea and talked her through the system for the dozenth time until she felt comfortable enough for him to leave. It would have felt insulting to everyone if he’d just reset the system and left, knowing Mrs. Morgan was spooked and lonely.

So now here he was, alone in his half-empty condo, still aching for Ella.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights. He knew the way, around the coffee table and across the rug. And the moon was setting, casting a silvery light on the walls.

She’d been vivacious earlier that evening. Aglow with joy and sensuality. He smiled as he leaned into the shower to turn the faucet on. He stripped off, tossing the clothes in the direction of the laundry basket, another task he needed to finish up soon or he’d be wearing parachute pants and a long-sleeved tie-dyed shirt to work.

The heat of the water against his muscles felt good, rippling through him, relaxing. He breathed in deep, remembering the way she’d felt, her body backed up to his as they’d danced.

He’d kissed her. Impulsively. But he couldn’t find it anywhere within himself to be sorry. They’d been together, dancing. There’d been a sort of magic about it. Just the two of them in a sea of undulating bodies.

And when she turned, her mouth curved into a beautiful smile, so totally open and engaged with him there’d been nothing else to do but kiss her. Just a quick slide of his mouth against hers. He’d swallowed the gust of her surprised sound.

He’d done it on impulse, yes, but he’d done it in public, marking her in some sense, wanting everyone to know she was his.

What he’d really wanted, as she’d looked up at him back at Brody’s place, was to push her back against the wall, his hands sliding down her sides, his mouth on hers, swallowing her needy little sighs.

He soaped up, his eyes closed, head tipped back as the water rushed over his body. Kissing her wouldn’t be enough. He’d invite her back to his place. Not the condo, but his house.

Her skin would glow in firelight, he decided. He’d build a fire to keep her warm. A woman like Ella needed some TLC, some cosseting and adoration.

That first time, he’d start at her toes and work his way up. He knew she spent a great deal of time on her feet. He could scent the warm almond oil he’d use, massaging her heels and instep.

The feel of her, after wanting it for so long, would be intoxicating. As intoxicating as the permission to slide his hands up her calves and thighs, kissing in their wake. He knew she was sensitive about her scarring, but he didn’t see a single part of her as anything but beautiful.

He’d take a long, closeup look at the tattoo on her back as he left a trail of kisses up her ribs and then across her belly, avoiding her pussy and breasts for the moment, rolling her over, moving up her spine to her neck.

Slick with soap, Cope fisted his cock, imagining her taste when he made his way back down the sweet belly and to her pussy. He grew impossibly hard just thinking about it, thinking about how she’d feel against his mouth.

He fucked his fist over and over as he imagined licking her until she came, imagined how her kiss would taste as he moved up her body, notching his cock against her, slowly pushing into her body.

He’d have to pause to push orgasm back. She’d be hot and tight, and just being in her would have pushed him to the brink.

Tugging on his nipple ring, he picked up the speed, the friction pushing him close to the edge. He imagined fucking her senseless. Slow and deep until he’d roll her, bringing her astride him.

She’d rise above him, her hair playing peek-a-boo with her face, riding him all while his hands roved over her body.

His fingertips would pause at her clit, fingering her until she exploded around his cock. Her eyes would widen and blur, would drift nearly closed as he came deep within her body.

He came hard, leaning against the shower enclosure when his knees went to rubber.

And still sleep didn’t come for some time after he’d cleaned up and gotten into bed. His attention was taken up with Ella Tipton, and he decided he liked that a great deal.