Tipsy(41)

It was freaking epic that I stopped moving all together, but the sensation continued on and on and on. I held myself suspended as she worked my rod like no one before. The way she bucked against me, grinding down and milking every ounce of hardness I could give.

Julie collapsed against the blanket, giving me a shy smile before her eyes drifted closed, and I noted the sheen of sweat glistening over her body.

I started to move, swirling around inside her with a swivel of my hips. Her hands knotted in the blanket as I slid one of my palms beneath the small of her back and tilted her lower half upward.

I dove in so deeply that she cried out. Our pelvises were touching and I bore down on her and started to rock. Her little moans turned into a whispered plea, and I felt the exact moment she fell over the edge because she pulled me with her.

Together we spiraled into a passion-laden freefall as the orgasm tore me up from the inside out.

“Blue,” she moaned, saying my name over and over again.

When the last tremor of pleasure rippled through me, I collapsed onto the floor, rolling beside her and scooping her into my arms, fitting her against my side. Our skin slid against each other, slick with sweat.

I pressed a kiss to her damp forehead and she sighed.

Sex with her was quite literally the best I ever had. It was almost bittersweet. Sweet because I felt like my body had searched for that kind of closeness, that kind of release since I figured out girls didn’t have cooties. And bitter… bitter because it took me so long to experience Julie, bitter because I wanted more… and bitter because after tonight, I might never see her again.





17




Julie

He stayed until darkness began to give way to a shadow-filled sky. We lay by the fire for as long as we could, not really talking.

Okay, we couldn’t talk.

Because we were making out like teenagers.

I knew when he was going to leave by the way tension slowly creeped into his body and invaded our moment. I didn’t ask him to stay. I knew he couldn’t. I didn’t tell him I would miss him, even though I would. And I didn’t pout because pouting never changed anything.

Instead, I pulled on his shirt (it smelled just like him) and padded barefoot into the kitchen and hit brew on my coffee pot. The rich, deep smell of brewing coffee filled the kitchen as strong arms wrapped around my midsection, pulling me against his hard body.

“You in the habit of drinking joe in the middle of the night?”

“It’s for you,” I said, enjoying the husky tone to my voice. My body had never felt so liquid, so loved. “It’s cold out and I don’t like the idea of you out there driving at this hour.”

He spun me around and pinned me up against the counter, fitting a muscular thigh between my legs. “I don’t want you worrying about me,” Blue said seriously.

I didn’t bother telling him I wouldn’t worry. I wasn’t into lying. “How long until I see you again?”

He let out a long sigh and cupped my face in his palms. “I don’t know.”

I kissed him.

We kissed until the coffee beeped and made its final brewing sounds. I pulled away to fill a stainless steel travel mug almost to the top. I glanced over my shoulder. “Cream?”

“If you have it.”

I pulled out a bottle of Vanilla Fire creamer and added a healthy dollop. Using a butter knife, I swirled the coffee and cream together as the fragrant steam hit me in the face. I was so getting up early enough to have coffee in the morning. I was going to need it after spending half the night awake in his arms.

After I deposited the knife in the sink and screwed on the lid, I turned, extending the brew to Blue. He took it and set it on the counter beside us and drew me into a hug, locking his arms around me.

My cheek fit perfectly in the little indentation between his pecs, and I dipped my fingers into the waistband of his jeans. Something shifted around us. It was a feeling, an instinct perhaps. It was as if all of a sudden, a dark cloud drifted right above us, threatening to dampen us with rain.

“Blue?” I asked, not sure how to voice what I was feeling.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“What is?” I asked, pulling back to search his face.

He picked up the coffee and took a sip, sighing as he swallowed. I knew the coffee was good, but I also knew he was merely stalling.

I wasn’t going to like what he was implying. It had to be about his job. The case was heating up. Why else would he come over here in the middle of the night?

The last time he came here, it was because he said he couldn’t stand the thought of me out there hating him. He’d said I wouldn’t see him again. He did imply that perhaps once the case was over, he and I might have a chance.