I’m fucking my best friend.
I’m fucking the man I’m falling for.
And I’m pretty sure this man is falling for me too.
Those blissful thoughts kaleidoscope through my brain as my fist flies over his hot, slick length.
Owen shudders, hips jerking, as he comes hard in my palm, and all over his stomach.
Electric pulses of pleasure surge in me. I’m close, so damn close.
“Come on me,” he begs.
I’ll give him anything he wants.
I pull out, rip off the condom, and pump my cock a few times till I’m coming on him with a savage groan and a string of yes, yes, yeses, then his name.
And it feels so right to stay like this.
Just like this.
Soon, the deliciously mind-numbing pleasure of my orgasm sinks me under into a brand-new land of rapture.
Into a new kind of falling.
One I don’t think I want to fall out of.
Especially when Owen reaches for me, and draws me in for a tender kiss that doesn’t feel like sex at all.
It feels like maybe, just maybe, this is the biggest risk of all.
I kiss him more to swallow up all the words as my body covers his.
The way our limbs tangle together feels more than right. It feels as good as spending the night in a cabin in the snow, under the stars, falling into each other.
18
Owen
The most predictable thing about weather is that it’s wildly unpredictable.
Last time I checked my phone, my weather app said there’d be half a foot by morning. Skiers rejoiced. But as the sun introduces itself to me the next day in all its bright morning glory, I squint, trying to make sure I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.
Most of the white stuff is gone.
Are my eyes that bad?
Grabbing my glasses, I slide them on and I yawn, peering out the window.
Okay, there’s still some snow, but maybe only a couple inches. Most of it is melting. A pang tugs at my chest. I suppose a part of me was hoping for another snow day.
That would have been perfect timing. Right place, right time, right moment. To hole up in this chalet for longer still, curl up by the fire, and tell River I am in mad love with him. And then we could fuck and kiss and cuddle.
My stomach growls.
And eat. That too.
I only snacked yesterday, including a midnight snack after sex—pumpkin seeds and the rest of the popcorn bag and a couple of bananas. Guess we’ll need to replenish the hostess gifts for Declan’s mom soon.
But are we getting out in this snow?
The road looks pretty slushy, and we’re high up in the hills. River’s car is tiny.
I cast a glance at the man next to me, sound asleep on his stomach. His dark blond hair is a wild mess, his inked arm on display, curled above his head.
Smiling, I briefly contemplate kissing all those tattoos. Running a hand through that hair. Pressing a soft kiss to his stubbly cheek.
But that’s selfish.
If I know one thing about River it’s that he likes his sleep almost as much as he likes his dog.
He’s a Garfield, hating mornings with a passion. Makes sense, being a bar owner, working nights. I’m the opposite—mornings are my jam. My workout time, my coffee time, my get-ready-to-tackle-the-day time.
A quick look at the clock tells me it’s nearly ten though.
I never sleep that late. But I guess soul-deep sex has that effect on me. I grin wildly. Yup, and I’d like another serving please. Then another.
I swing my legs out of bed, head to the bathroom, then consider a shower. We both took a super-quick post-sex shower last night, but I’m a believer in morning showers too. Since, well, I do have a day job, and I like going to work nice and clean.
Same applies to seeing friends.
I turn on the faucet, adjust the temp, and take a speedy wake-me-up shower.
A few minutes later, I’m dried off and getting dressed.
And River’s still sound asleep.
I stand in the doorway of the bathroom, tugging on a casual button-down, enjoying the sight in front of me.
This man.
A reel of what we did in this bed last night flickers before my eyes. A jolt runs through me, and my cheeks heat.
Best sex of my life?
Yes. Yes, it was. Because it was so much more than sex. I’m reminded of what TJ said to me about the sexy times in his stories. They’re about things like intimacy, trust, opening your heart.
Last night in bed sure felt like the start of that, and today, I’ll continue it.
So, hey, River, when you asked what I was into last night, and I said you, I meant it in every way. I am so into you. I am so in love with you. I want you to be mine and I’ll be yours, and I hope you feel the same.