The Gun Runner(72)

Cap folded his arms in front of his chest. “Oh we do?”

Michelle nodded. “Watching New Girl and rough sex.”

“You like it rough do ya?”

“The rougher the better,” Michelle said.

Oh. My. God.

It was not at all how I expected my perfectly planned Friday night to go. With the new furniture, decorations, pictures and random foliage I had arranged throughout the house, I had visions of a nice quiet night of eating, drinking and talking. In less than an hour, the one-sided conversation hadn’t included Michael and me, and the subject was now rough sex.

I walked around the bar and to Michael’s side. “What the fuck?” I whispered.

“Looks like a match made in heaven,” he responded.

I nodded toward them. Standing at the end of the bar giggling and staring at Cap, Michelle looked like an awestruck teenager. “Look at them,” I said with disgust.

Michael seemed genuinely okay with how they were acting. He chuckled. “They’re fine.”

“It’s embarrassing. Her boobs are falling out.”

“Cap seems to like it.”

Cap may have, but I didn’t. “I can’t believe she wore that top. She looks like a hooker. I wanted her to talk to you. I thought we’d like eat, and have a few drinks, and sit around on the new furniture and talk.”

“Looks like she had something else in mind. He’s not putting up much of an argument, though.”

“I’m sorry.” I kissed him lightly on the lips. “I love you.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. They’re having fun. We’ll eat and talk later.”

“Well, Brother Tripp. Sounds like we’re going to head over to my place,” Cap said.

What?

I shot Michelle another glare. “What?”

Michelle grinned. “We’re going to go watch New Girl and hang out.”

I waved toward the newly decorated living room. “You can watch New Girl here. And we can all hang out.”

“We’ll all hang out some other time,” she said.

A matter of minutes later, and they were gone. I sat on the new couch staring at the blank screen of the new sixty-inch LED television Michael purchased. “Now what?” I huffed.

Michael shrugged. “We could try that New Girl show.”

“I’m fine with that.”

By Monday morning, we had watched the entire first season of the show, only getting off of our new couch when completely necessary. Over the course of the weekend, I appreciated how Michael had changed since we met without becoming someone else.

We laughed until we cried while we watched the show, eating the finger foods and snacks I bought for the party. We drank wine, ate peanut butter out of a jar, and he held me in his arms until we fell asleep. At one point we decided to shower, and although we did it together, we were both far too excited to return to the show to initiate sex.

Having sex with Michael was magical, but I loved that we didn’t have to have sex to enjoy each other’s company. Our relationship was blossoming into so much more than sex, and on that weekend, I realized how easy it was to get lost in who Michael really was.

A former marine badass turned gun runner who wouldn’t hesitate to fight for the person or situation he felt was deserving.

And official couch potato.

He was mine, and I couldn’t wait until I could tell the world.





Chapter Thirty-Two

Michael

Terra stood in the kitchen facing the living room. With my chest against her back, I pressed my hands against her waist and rested my chin on her left shoulder. “I love you,” I whispered. “Are you about ready to go ride this thing?”

She tilted her head to the side, resting her cheek against mine. “I love you, too. I’ve been ready, but I think it’s just a lie. We’re never really going to leave.”

I released her hip with my right hand and traced the tip of my index finger along the zippered seam in the back of her dress. It seemed I’d just zipped it up.

The warm breath of her sigh prompted me to continue.

I pulled the tab of the zipper down slowly. Her dress parted in the center, exposing her back as the two pieces of material fell to each side. I released her hip with my left hand and unclasped her bra with the tips of my thumbs. Eagerly, I reached inside the front of her dress and squeezed her breasts until she began to moan against my cheek.

I pressed my mouth to her neck, kissing her softly while continuing to knead her soft flesh. With each squeeze of my hands, her breath escaped her lungs in a sudden burst as if forced by my touch.

My cock began to fight for freedom.

While kissing along the side of her neck as if it were the only portion of her body deserving of the sensual touch of my lips, I pulled my hands from beneath her bra and reached inside her panties.