You hold my heart. Even when you didn’t want it anymore. I waited for you since the beginning of time and no separation will ever keep us apart.
Cari QuinnPatrick was the living embodiment of naughty. He sweat for a living—he worked on houses while his slick, polished brother sold them—and his swagger served as a convincing argument that he knew how to make a woman sweat when the lights were off, too.
Cari QuinnShe braced one palm on the wall and used the other to bring him inside her more forcefully, tearing away the last bit of civility between them. Her body yielded under his pummeling strokes. Stretching around him, drawing him in that much farther. She couldn’t get close enough.
Cari QuinnHe inched in, slid out. Pumped deeper, pulled away. Just as her frustration swelled to a f#ckingly epic level, he hauled her hips up, dragging her higher before he sank all the way in, filling her so completely she gasped.
Her flesh stretched, unaccustomed to a man after so long. Each thrust stirred her unspeakably. More than just her p#ssy linked with him when he slid into her. A little part of her heart did as well.
Even when she’d fantasized, what she’d come up with hadn’t ever matched this reality. She’d never envisioned a sexy, borderline grouchy guy with a glint in his eye and an erection this tempting.
Cari QuinnKaryn reached out to graze his jaw with her thumb, savoring the beginnings of stubble. She’d never seen her ex with stubble. Or with his mouth as deliciously soft and used as Jeff’s.
“How’d we end up here?” she asked softly, not expecting an answer.
“Luck,” he said, turning his head to kiss her palm. “Blind f#cking luck.
Soft strokes and tender words of praise might’ve made her suspicious but his rough manner helped her to trust him. What she saw was what she got with Jeff Maddox. And what she saw, she liked. A lot.
Cari QuinnHe didn’t reply but by then she’d found something else to occupy her attention. His eyes.
Though she’d expected them to be as serviceable as the rest of him, they were a smoky blue-gray fringed in dark lashes. Pretty eyes. Even when he stared her down like a cop might a perp. And not just any perp. One who was heavily armed and an imminent flight risk.
She expected an easy kiss. Good, perhaps, but not intense. He seemed like a low-key, moderately passionate person. As she’d been, without the right stimulation.
Without this.
What she got was a glancing blow of lips that soon turned to a furious meshing of mouths and teeth. It wasn’t elegant. It was messy and rough and God help her, bordered on dirty.
Idly, he (Matt) twirled a lock of her hair. “You think I coerced him the way you obviously believe I do with women?”
“You got him into bed. Not the other way around. Right. That’s why he was inside you, ramming away.”
“You’ll learn, sweetness, that sometimes the one on the bottom isn’t any less powerful than the one on top.
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