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I grab her neck gently, placing my thumb over her pulse, then I kiss her tenderly until I can feel her heartbeat racing. Pulling away slowly, I place a soft kiss on her cheekbone before I take her hand and lead her into the bedroom. The book she bought today is lying on her side of the bed. I hold the covers up for her to get in, then I take off my boxers before sliding in next to her.
“Is this historical fiction?” I ask, as she settles in under the covers.
“I think it’s—”
“Wait. Don’t tell me. I want to try to figure it out.”
“Of course. You like to be surprised.” She drags out the “i” in “surprised” to mock me.
I reach over and gently grab her breast and she gasps because my hands are a little cold. “See? You like being surprised too.”
She lightly smacks my hand. “All right. You’ve made your point. Can I have my breast back?”
“But it’s so warm. Can I hold on a little longer? I promise I’ll still listen.”
She rolls her eyes as she begins reading the first page. “In the light of my grandmother’s torchère, the one with the fringed lampshade, I wrote my first letter to my dead husband.” She stops and slowly closes the book. “Maybe I should read something else.”
She turns to me with tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to read this.”
I let go of her breast and take the book from her hands. I lay it on my nightstand and by the time I turn back to her, she’s composed herself. My hand slides under the sheet, quickly finding her soft abdomen. I brush the backs of my fingers over her skin as I slide my hand to her waist.
Burying my face in her neck, I whisper against her skin. “You want to tell me another story?”
She arches her back a little, pressing her chest to mine. “What kind of story?”
I slide my knee between her thighs as she coils her arms around my shoulders. “Your story.”
She moans softly as I lightly dig my teeth into her neck. “My story is boring.”
I suck on her neck and she wraps her legs around my hips. “Then tell me our story. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.” I slide my hand behind her knee and lift her leg so my erection is pressed against her throbbing pussy, but I don’t enter her. “Then tell me how our story ends.”
She squeezes her thighs together to tighten them around my hips and I gasp as my cock slides about an inch inside her. She grabs my face so she can look at me as I sink in slowly. Her eyelids flutter with ecstasy until I hit her cervix and she lets out a tiny gasp.
“Talk to me,” I whisper as I move slowly in and out of her.
She smiles as she gently rakes her fingernails down my back, then back up to my shoulders, sending shivers through me and making my cock twitch. “The first time I saw you… you were on your skateboard.”
I let out a soft chuckle, but she continues undaunted, as do I.
“You had your hat on backwards and… I think you were fourteen and you were already almost six feet tall. It was August and you were all sweaty.”
I lift her left leg a bit higher so I can dig deeper. “You like it when I’m all sweaty?”
“Yes,” she moans. “Yes… but I didn’t realize I was in love with you until I was fifteen.”
“Four… years… later?” I time my words with my thrusts and this makes her smile. “Why… so… long?”
She lets out a long sigh as I reach between her legs and massage her clit. “Because that’s when I started touching myself.”
“And you’d think of me?”
Her pussy clenches around my erection as I move my finger in slow circles around her swollen bud. She closes her eyes and tosses her head backward, exposing the graceful arch of her neck. The sensation of her muscles spasming around my dick is getting me too excited, so I pull out of her and her eyes flash open.
“Keep talking, baby,” I urge her as I lay a hot trail of kisses down her neck all the way to her breasts.
She whimpers as I take her nipple into my mouth and suck gently. “That was when you went away to college… I thought of you all the time and… I think I was touching myself at least once a day.”
I tease her nipple with my tongue, smiling when she writhes a bit. “Is it wrong I find it hot you were fantasizing about me at that age?”
“Well, technically, you were eighteen and I was fifteen… so you would have been taking advantage of me if we actually did all the things I imagined we were doing.”
My cock becomes painfully engorged at this comment. “Well, you’re eighteen now, so tell me… what did you imagine us doing?”
***end of excerpt***
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Five pages. A letter holding a secret buried for more than five years. A secret neither of them wanted to know. Will the truth tear them apart… again?
Five years after their messy breakup, Houston and Rory are forced to work together opening up a new wine bar. Despite their tragic past, they find themselves once again drawn to each other, unable to deny their potent attraction.
But the secret of the letter hangs like a guillotine over their heads. And soon, Houston finds himself in the same position he was in five years ago, choosing between the truth and the only woman he’s ever loved.