I couldn’t get to her fast enough.

And when I did, I did not fuck her with her tits pressing against the glass shower door, like I was anticipating. We didn’t make it upstairs.

Tori dropped the quilt the second I stepped inside, proving I was right, she was naked, then after attacking each other like kissing was something that felt just as good as fucking, spending minutes just doing that, nothing else, I took her hard and fast against the small table she had in her entryway.

Had because we broke that shit. And that was good quality wood, too. Sturdy.

Tori thought it was funny the table broke. She wasn’t mad.

And I eventually got her tits pressing up against the glass shower door, but not until after I took her on the stairs.

That juicy ass in my face. It was inevitable.

Sunday I couldn’t get to her until late again, considering Tori was working and I was spending time saying good-bye to my sister, not knowing when she was coming back around. After finishing up with Quinn, I spent the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening tracking down a replacement table. I had to skip out on family dinner since it took me so long. I ended up not finding shit in Dogwood and had to venture out to neighboring towns.

It was after eight when I finally showed. I used my key to get inside and was just finishing putting the table in place, arranging the picture frames on it the way she had before, when I heard a soft gasp from behind me.

I turned my head and saw Tori looking at the table, and when she lifted her eyes and gave up a smile that made all kinds of shit warm up inside me, tighten, twist, and do other weird shit I couldn’t explain, I went at her.

I fucking rushed at that woman like getting to her was a necessity greater than breathing.

And she rushed at me.

Knocked over the four brown bags of clothes she had sitting in the middle of the floor, which I later found out she had packed up and was looking to take out to her car for a trip to Goodwill, and since I rushed before Tori did, I got to her first, meaning when she knocked over those bags, we ended up fucking on top of them and ripping them open.

Clothes were everywhere by the time we finished an hour later. The ones she packed up and the ones we were wearing, which now had tears in them from our frantic removal.

Tori laughed at that, too, and offered one of her Goodwill sleeping tees for me to wear home.

It had No Pants Are the Best Pants on the front and smelled like her skin.

I wore it home.

Now it was Monday and I was getting to Tori’s without any anticipations for tonight. The only thing guaranteed was the sex, however we’d end up having it, and the eating we’d be doing since I was providing dinner.

Thai.

Tori had five business card magnets from Bangkok Orchid on the side of her fridge. I figured there was a good chance of her liking their food.

I entered with my key again, not knocking, stepped inside, and kicked the door closed, then I started crossing the room with the bags in my hands, hollering out, “Legs. Where you at?”

She came around the corner from the direction of the kitchen, not speaking but drawing my attention anyway.

I froze a foot away from the couch, head turned and eyes lowered, focused on her tits. She was topless.

Fuck.

I stared for a breath, then my eyes kept lowering, being drawn down there, too, skimming over her belly to just below. I stopped on tight, black material clinging.

Fuck.

“Hey,” Tori said in the softest, sweetest voice I’d ever heard her use.

I glanced up into her face then immediately looked back down, chest heaving, nostrils flaring, and dick growing hard against my zipper.

“Sex pants,” I murmured.

Sweet fucking Christ. She was gonna kill me.

Tori started moving closer, made it two steps, and then she stopped.

“You went to Bangkok Orchid?”

I blinked up at her after she spoke, brow furrowing. “What?”

Bangkok what? What the fuck was she talking about? And why was she even talking? We should be fucking already. She was wearing those goddamn pants.

Her hands flattened on her stomach, her eyes widened, focused on the bags, then she started moving toward me again, faster now. “Oh, my God, I love their food. Please tell me you got the pineapple fried rice,” she begged excitedly.

I looked down at the two bags in my hand.

“I’m starving. I haven’t eaten yet,” she added, reaching me and reaching out, looking to take a bag and start eating.

Before she could grab it, I dropped the one bag onto the floor, not giving a shit about food, eating, breathing, nothing else that wasn’t involving us fucking, then I turned to face her, snatched her hand out of the air that was inches away, and forced it against the front of my shorts.

Tori gasped when she felt my dick.

It was hard. It was throbbing. And she needed to get on it immediately.

In case that message wasn’t coming through clear enough, I spelled it out for her.

“We’re fuckin’ first. Right here. Couch or floor, but I’d prefer couch since you’re gonna be ridin’ me. Still got rug burn on my back from yesterday and don’t feel like adding to it. Shit’s hot, but it sucks in the shower. Those tits are gonna be in my face the entire fuckin’ time, and I don’t know how it’s gonna be possible but you’re keepin’ those pants on. Rip ’em to get me inside. Pull ’em down a little. Whatever. I’ll let you figure it out. Then after we both get off, we’ll get to the food I brought, which includes the pineapple fried rice. Shit looked good so I got two orders of it. But you ain’t touchin’ the food, babe, until after we fuck. I’m firm on that. You got me?”

She blinked. Her hand tensed around my zipper, putting pressure there I took as a yes.

The other bag of food hit the floor. My back hit the couch after grabbing a condom out of my shorts. Tori’s pants were ripped down the middle seam at her pussy, and a second later, I discovered she was bare underneath when she sank down, putting me inside.

Chapter Thirteen

TORI

“Oh, God. I’m so close,” I moaned, back arched, head thrown back, hands gripping strong, powerful thighs beneath me and hips jerking frantically, chasing that miraculous feeling that was building and building fast thanks to Jamie’s cock and that piercing I wanted to dedicate my nightly prayers to. Also, the filthy words coming out of Jamie’s mouth. Those were helping in a big, big way.

“Yeah … look at you. Taking my dick like you were made for it. So fuckin’ hot, Tori.”

“God, your tits. Shake em’. Fuck yeah. Wanna stare at these all fuckin’ day.”

“Nothin’ like it. Jesus. Ain’t nothin’ like your cunt. Nothin’ feels this good, baby.”

He always talked during sex. Jamie was never quiet, but God, it seemed like the more we did it, the hotter his words became.

Plus, his smell. Amazing. That was working me up, too. Like a dirty surfer boy bottled up. And the way I knew his hair looked right now, fallen in his eyes and messy from my fingers. The pressure of his hands on my hips. The way he was staring up at me, also something I knew he was still doing even though I had my eyes closed. The way he could still feel commanding and controlling beneath me. Oh, and his noises. God, he made the best noises.

Okay, so basically everything attached to Jamie and everything he was doing.