Then I devour her, sucking and licking until she’s a trembling, screaming mess. Shouting out my name, she loses that perfect control, coming hard against my face. I immediately want to do that again. But first I have bigger priorities. My cock has been neglected for way too long, and I need to rectify that. I grab a condom from my duffel bag that’s sitting beside the bed, and rip open the package with my teeth.

“Let me,” Emery says, sitting up and taking it from my hands.

Ever so carefully, she sheaths me, slowly unrolling the condom all the way down my shaft. I’ve never had a woman do this, and it feels way more erotic than it should. Once she’s satisfied with a job well done, she looks up at me, her cheeks flushed from her earlier orgasm and her eyes shining.

I lean forward and press a kiss to her reddened lips. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since we first met,” I admit.

“Come on then, big boy.” I feel her smile against my mouth.

Positioning my body over hers, I line my cock up with her entrance and rub the head of it back and forth through her wetness, teasing her.

“God, I can’t wait to see what you feel like,” I admit.

“And I can’t wait to see if you really know where the G-spot is.”

I almost chuckle to myself, almost, but then Emery wraps her legs around my ass and grinds against me, pushing her wet pussy up and down my shaft, and I forget how to breathe, let alone laugh.

“Goddamn it, hold still,” I mutter.

With one forearm holding up my weight over her, I use my other hand to grip the base of my cock and slowly feed it into her. Inch by tight inch, her body accepts mine.

Fuck . That feels good. Finally, I’m buried within her and I press my hips close to hers, savoring the feeling of being sheathed in her warmth.

“You’re really fucking tight,” I say with a grunt. When I look down, I see Emery’s eyes squeezed shut and she’s biting her lip. “Are you okay?”

She gives a nod of approval. “Yeah. It’s just . . . been a while.”

“Take a deep breath,” I say, retreating a few inches.

She sucks a big breath into her lungs, and her body, while still tense and clutching at me, relaxes just a little.

“That’s it. Now hang on.”

Emery brings her hands to my shoulders while I begin pumping in earnest. Soon, Emery’s moaning and digging in her heels against my ass as she grinds herself even closer on every down stroke. She feels so incredible that I lose myself in her, thrusting hard and fast, cursing under my breath as I press my lips against her neck.

I’m not sure if sex has ever been this good, and I never want it to end.

Chapter Sixteen

Emery

Hayden moves with the certainty of a man who knows what he’s doing. His lips crash against mine and my pulse skitters wildly. The room is filled with the sounds of our flesh slapping together.

I cry out and clutch his biceps for support as the most intense orgasm of my life hits me. This is the third he’s wrung from my body in the last hour, and I feel as if I’m floating on cloud nine. The man can fuck, there’s no denying that. It’s like he has a damn map of my vagina, the G-spot charted out in big block letters: Pleasure Central—Right Here!

Little droplets of sweat dot along the back of his neck; I feel dampness when I lace my fingers behind his head and pull him down for a kiss. His lips move tenderly with mine as the urgency of our fucking slows down to a softer pace. He has such control, such stamina, but I think he’s finally getting close. His cock thickens inside me and he groans softly near my ear. It’s the best sound in the whole world, knowing he’s finally following me over the edge.

“Emery,” he says on a groan, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin at the base of my throat.

After he comes, he keeps pumping in and out of me slowly, as if savoring the way I feel around him. When he reluctantly pulls out, he gathers me up in his arms and holds me, our limbs tangled and the sheets damp with our perspiration. I feel tired and boneless. It’s perfection. Better than I knew sex could be.

“Fuck. Why did we wait so long to do that?” he asks, still breathing hard, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

“Because we’re friends?” I suggest helpfully.

“Right. Totally. I’d say now we’re more like best friends.”

“Besties.” I almost choke on the word. Why is my heart clenching in my chest?

As he rises from the bed and heads into the bathroom, to get rid of the condom, I presume, I take a deep breath, trying to get a hold of myself. I feel totally confused and out of control.

What the hell was I thinking? I just had sex with Hayden Oliver. Hayden Fucking Oliver. The man Roxy and my mom both warned me about with pitchforks and danger signs. Well, maybe it wasn’t quite that dramatic, but it was close.

I hear the faucet running in the bathroom, and I curl onto my side, hugging the pillow to my chest. It’s scented like him: cologne, sweat, sex. The smell makes my pussy throb again, makes me want him in my arms and between my legs . . . even as I want to push him away so I can figure all this out.

My heart is still thumping like a jackhammer when he approaches the bed and flops down beside me.

“You okay?” he asks, looking at me with something close to concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, of course,” I lie. “You?”

“Never better. That was incredible.” He shoves a pillow under his head and gazes up at the ceiling. “So, meetings all day again tomorrow?” he asks, like nothing’s out of the ordinary. Like we didn’t just have the best sex of my life. Like my brain isn’t turning itself inside out.