“No,” she gasped.
He released her hair and gripped her hips, increasing the speed of his thrusts. God, still so deep. She knew he was right—she would feel him for days, and she loved that idea, wanted to feel him every time she moved, every time she sat down. One of his hands came around, cupping her between the legs, teasing her clit. He pressed down firmly, then circled her slowly.
His other hand slid under her, over her belly, up to her ribs, then lifted her so her back was flush against his chest. The small buttons of his shirt pressed into her bare skin, making the whole thing hotter somehow. He reached up and cupped her breast, massaging her oversensitive flesh. “Come for me, Alex. I want to feel you squeeze my cock nice and tight.”
At those needy words rasped against her ear, she had no choice but to obey, crying out his name as wave after wave of intense pleasure slammed through her. Deacon’s thrusts became erratic, then he planted himself and came, shot after shot hitting her deep, setting off tiny aftershocks. He groaned against her hair, his body shaking behind her.
If he hadn’t been holding her upright, she would have fallen on her ass.
He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head to the side so he could see her face. “All right?”
He slid from her body, and she nodded, turned in his arms so she could rest her hands on his chest. “Well, I think you got what you wanted. I’ll be feeling you for days.”
Those warm hands slid down her back to cup her butt and squeezed. “Good. My work here is done.”
“You’re such a Neanderthal.”
He shrugged. “I’ve told you before, I don’t share. I wanted to leave you with a reminder.”
She tensed. Okay, that stung. She’d promised not to sleep with anyone else, but it was obvious he didn’t trust her. This wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, accused her of looking elsewhere. She pulled away and tried to back up, but he grabbed her upper arms and held her where he wanted her.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” He frowned, looking genuinely confused. “Why are you pulling away?”
She crossed her arms. “You’re obviously used to sleeping with lying bimbos. So I’m gonna spell it out for you. When I make a promise, I keep it. I said I wouldn’t sleep with anyone else during our arrangement, and I meant it. You need to stop with the accusations.”
He dragged her up against him. “I know that. I do.”
“You sure about that? Cause I’m kinda getting the impression you think I’ll jump on the first dick that pops up in front of me.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not you. I just hate that I have to go away. I’m taking my crappy mood out on you.”
She wasn’t buying it—there was more to it, a hell of a lot more, but she decided to leave it alone. He was going away, and she didn’t want to argue before he left. So instead she smiled up at him. “How can you be pissed after that?” She tilted her head toward the table, and he chuckled.
“Because now I want more of you and I know I can’t have you. Not till I get back.” The sincerity in his gaze made her chest tight. She could see more than just lust, there was warmth and affection there as well. Don’t read more into it.
They had a long history. The look in his eyes said nothing more than that, meant nothing more than a shared past with his kid sisters’ best friend. And that’s how she wanted it, right? Fuck buddies. She could do that. She’d been momentarily thrown off course, had let those old feelings, the sad kid with the stupid crush, rear their head. This was nothing. It was fun, a mutually beneficial agreement and nothing more.
Deacon had made his feelings about commitment and relationships clear, and she didn’t want more than that from him, didn’t want more than that from anyone. Suddenly she felt lighter than she had all week. She didn’t need to get all twisted up in knots about this. It was simple. Fun.
She grinned up at him. “How about I cook you dinner when you get back? Would that improve your mood?”
He smiled wide, flashing white teeth and his elusive dimple that only made an appearance when he was really happy. “I’d love that.”
She gripped the side of his neck, needing to touch bare skin. The action was unconscious, a result of letting go of all the angst, all the what ifs, and embracing the moment. Taking pleasure from one another without all the messy feelings. “You up for a little cloak and dagger?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe you could borrow Martin’s car or something? That way your sisters won’t get suspicious and I get to cook in my own kitchen, tiny and crappy as it is. You okay with that?”