“Who’d have thought?” she repeated.
“I didn’t just think, baby. I knew. From the very first day.”
And, with that one last answer, I covered her lips with mine, capturing them in a feverish kiss as I made love to my wife on the beach we’d always call home.
Even though Sierra and I were using the reunion to push Jace and Lexi together, we were back in Navarre. It was the place where we’d met twenty freaking years earlier, and it wouldn’t have been right if we focused on them the entire time. Which was why we’d ended up at our beach. Which was why, after making love in our favorite spot, we both knew we’d have to shower to get the sand off. Not that I ever minded the excuse to shower sand off Sierra.
“I wish we never had to leave this place,” Sierra whispered.
Her fingers were lazily running up and down the skin of my back. I rose up, and my cock twitched inside her, apparently not ready to leave his place, either. I couldn’t blame him. Nestled inside Sierra after she’d just explosively come around me was pretty much heaven. And who wants to leave there?
I gazed down at my gorgeous wife. Her eyes were glossy, her smile crooked, her cheeks so beautifully flushed.
Sierra was drunk on the champagne I’d brought. I was drunk on her.
Would I ever not be?
I doubted it. Even after all these years, it was still there. The excitement. The electricity. The heat. Our chemistry hadn’t fizzled after seven years of marriage. If nothing else, the more we experienced together, the more combustible we were.
When people heard how long Sierra and I’d been together, I’d get asked how we’d kept it fresh. New. Exciting. Didn’t I get tired of the same snatch over and over again?
If they could only see Sierra now, laid out and flushed after toe-curling, spine-tingling ecstasy, they’d never ask again.
In case you’re wondering, the answer is no.
I’d never tire of Sierra’s glorious pussy, her incredible body, or her beautiful heart.
I know that it was most likely unusual for most guys my age, but in all of my life, I’d never touched another woman. I had Sierra Banks. Why would I need to?
“Whoa!” I jerked the wheel to the side just as Sierra reached over and grasped my cock. The same champagne lust-filled gaze that had been in her eyes when she’d come about an hour earlier was still there.
After her statement of never wanting to leave, I’d agreed. Begrudgingly, and much to my dick’s displeasure, I’d slid out of her, cleaned her up, then tugged my T-shirt over her head before throwing my shorts on. She’d sat up, put her panties on, and then finished the bottle while we’d gazed out at the ocean and talked about anything and everything. That was Sierra and me. We’d have explosive sex then talk about our days.
That’s the thing a lot of people don’t seem to understand. You can be completely content with your relationship, comfortable as hell, and still ignite in the bedroom. In fact, I’d venture to guess that it’s better that way. Don’t you want to be comfortable with the one you love? It doesn’t mean it’s boring, especially when she leans over and touches your cock when you’re driving. Boring? Fuck no.
“I love your penis,” she stated matter-of-factly.
My face broke out into a prideful grin. “My penis loves you, too, baby,” I informed her.
“It’s such a pretty penis,” she continued. Her fingers slowly stroked me through my shorts, and a delighted smile crossed her face as he grew beneath her.
Like I said, my dick loves her, too.
She licked her lips, causing me to go incredibly hard. Material-straining hard. I had to tear my gaze from her face to focus on the road. My hands gripped the steering wheel even though all I wanted to do was pull off on the side of the road, yank her out of the car, bend her over the hood, and fuck her until the entire city heard her screaming my name.
Thank fuck we were nearing the condo.
“It ain’t no love sanctuary,” I said through clenched teeth.
She laughed a sexy, throaty laugh. Then her hand retreated. It was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because if she’d slipped her hand into my shorts and touched my bare skin, I’d probably have caused a crash. A curse because fuck, I wanted her fingers wrapped around me, stroking up and down until I was coming in her hand.
Then my beautiful wife decided to torture me, leaning across the car and nibbling on my earlobe as she whispered exactly what she wanted to do to me in the shower.
By the time we entered the parking lot, I was signed up and ready to become an exhibitionist. I didn’t care about the college kids who were playing beer pong in the driveway across the street. I didn’t care about the janitor emptying trash cans full of beer bottles and takeout. I only came out of my lustful haze when Sierra whispered Jace’s name.
She tapped my shoulder. “Jace,” she whispered again, her voice breathy, shaky, and a little panicked.
“What the fuck?” I growled.
Now, I wasn’t a jealous man by any means. Sierra was fucking hot. If a guy wanted to check her out, whatever—do it, dude. Take your fill, go home, and jack off later. I was the guy in her bed. The way I saw it, I was the fucking winner. It’s like staring at a Playboy. You get to admire the woman in the photo, beat off to her image, and then go about your day. But do you ever think about the guy who’s actually fucking her? The one who makes her come? The one whose name she cries as he pleasures her?
No, of course you don’t, because that’s just freaking weird. But it’s the truth. Behind every gorgeous woman is a man (or sometimes a woman) who’s fulfilling her needs. I was that guy for Sierra. So, no, I wasn’t jealous. I felt sorry that those fucks wouldn’t ever see her in the throes of ecstasy.
But Sierra’s whispering another man’s name while my cock was hard for her? No fucking way.
I reeled back, my eyes wild. “What the fuck?” I repeated.
She didn’t respond. She just took my hand and pulled me along as we sprinted to the elevators on the far side of the building. She pushed the up button three times. Then she glanced around, and as soon as the doors dinged open, she shoved me in, frantically hitting the doors closed button.
When the doors shut, she leaned back against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. Her eyes were wide as she watched me.
“I repeat, what the fuck?”
“What the fuck what?”
“You just said Jace’s name while my hand was in between your legs, Sierra.” It wasn’t really an accusation. More of like I’d asked. A what the fuck.
“Oh. That,” she said, and my blood pressure started to rise. “I saw him across the parking lot. I’m pretty sure he and Lexi had the same idea as us, so I figured we’d better get out of there.”
Relief washed over me. It was dumb, because I knew that Sierra didn’t want anyone else, but give a guy a break. My hands. Inside her. Jace’s name.
“Ah,” was all I gave in response.
She raised an eyebrow. “Jeremy Banks, were you jealous?”
“No.”
She placed a hand on her hip. “You were!” Her words were punctuated with a fit of giggles.
Ones I drowned out when I crossed the elevator, placed my hands on her hips, and crashed my mouth down on her. My tongue forced its way into her mouth, plunging in, colliding with hers as it wiped his name from it.
All too soon, we were on our floor. Not soon enough, I was sliding the keycard in the door, pushing Sierra inside. I gripped her hips and led her to the shower, where I all but tore her clothes off then did the same to myself.
I’d like to say that I took my time worshipping her beautiful body, but after the show in the car, I was eager for her.