home » Romance » Jay Crownover » Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2) » Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2) Page 56

Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2) Page 56
Author: Jay Crownover

His eyes burned into mine and then he kissed me. He kissed me with his mouth. He kissed me with the rest of his body as he finally sank inside of me. He kissed me with his hands as they trapped my face between his rough palms so that I was still and couldn’t look away from him, and he kissed me with something deeper, something more significant than that, as I felt his heart trip and dance against mine. I lifted my hips up to take him inside my clamoring body even farther, and curled my legs up higher along his sides.

“It isn’t always easy. You aren’t always easy, but I have yet to regret any of it, Race.”

I tasted the words as he breathed them back into me and we panted against each other as he planted his hands on either side of my head and started to move. Having sex with Race never felt the same, each time our bodies connected I felt like both of us were leaving pieces of ourselves behind with the other. I saw the darkness in his gaze deepen, felt his breathing hitch a little as the slick surface of our skin rubbed together.

I used my teeth on the lobe of his ear, kissed the sensitive skin behind it, and buried my nose in the hollow of his throat as I felt my body start to quake and flutter around him. His rhythm picked up, and one of his hands disappeared between us, his sensuous pace picked up a little, and muscles and veins in the arm that was holding him up bulged and flexed in a heady show of strength. I wanted to tell him not to bother with the added caress because I was already there. His words and the way he was looking at me, the way he kept bending to kiss me, to make love to my mouth as thoroughly as he was making love to the rest of me, had me already on the edge. I could feel how liquid I was, how needy my inner walls were, as they pulled at him, and the entire room smelled like sex and expensive Scotch. It was indisputably sexy.

Race being Race had to go the extra mile, though. He tickled the indentation of my belly button with his finger, which had me giggling into the curve of his shoulder, and then he was there, right at that center of me, where coiled pleasure writhed and begged to be released. Clever hands delving into the place where we were joined, into the damp fold of my sex and right on target. He used his thumb to press down and simultaneously levered his hips so that he was driving as hard and as deep as he could. I lost my breath and couldn’t keep my eyes open under the onslaught of pleasure and emotion that engulfed me. I might have screamed his name, or maybe I blacked out for a second, because the next thing I knew he was grinding his way to his own release and groaning his completion into my mouth as he dropped down and sealed our lips together in one final soul-entangling kiss.

We stayed like that for a long time. Replete and quiet. I could feel the weight that it always felt like so much more than sex when we were together settling pretty solidly on top of both of us. Finally I had to wiggle a little in order to breathe, because even though he wasn’t bulky, he was still big, heavy, and I didn’t want to be stuck in the wet spot on the mattress. He laughed when I told him that, and rolled us over to the other side of the bed, landing with him on the bottom this time. He helped me pull out of his now hopelessly wrinkled shirt and I don’t know how he did it, but he kept us joined together. I wasn’t going to complain about it and I liked the way he was twisting strands of my hair around his fingers as he stroked my spine up and down in long, smooth brushes of his palm.

“Can I ask you a question?”

I had my cheek resting right over his heart, so when he asked, I heard it rumble all the way through me. I yawned and rubbed my nose against the rock-hard plane of my pillow.

“Is it going to make me mad? Because I feel pretty great right now and that doesn’t happen very much for me anymore.”

He swore and his wandering hand landed on my naked rear end. He gave it a little tap and chuckled. The vibration made my insides all squishy and happy.

“Why did your parents give you a boy’s name? I mean, you are clearly a girly girl and Brysen sounds like a guy who takes your lunch money in elementary school.” I wiggled a little and sighed against him as his hand wandered even lower.

“I was supposed to be a boy. On the last ultrasound, the tech thought they saw a dangler, so my parents weren’t prepared for a little girl. They had a blue nursery, and a name already picked out. Then out I come and I guess they were too lazy or too unconcerned to change it.” I shrugged a little and kissed him on his breastbone. “I hated it when I was little but I grew into it. I kind of had to own it when Karsen came along and they gave her a boy’s name too.”

He shifted his legs a little and I felt the lower half of him start to stir. I was ready for a nap, but it seemed like Race, in all his otherworldly amazingness, was up for round two. I lifted my head and rested my chin on the back of my hand that I had crossed over his heart. I lifted both of my eyebrows and smirked at him.

“Really?”

He flashed that dimple at me and I groaned because it was a surefire way to get me to react. I felt the walls that he was nestled so snuggly in already clench in response. He moved his arms up above his head, treating me to a visual feast of sinew and skin flexing and rippling in the most mouthwatering way.

“Like I said, you might have a boy’s name, but you are all girl.” He said it with a leer that made goose bumps break out all over my exposed body. “So your parents were always kind of half-assed?”

I couldn’t keep up with how he turned our post–sexy time into a share-all about our pasts, but he was soothing me along with turning me on, and I was too mellow to argue about the timing or setting.

“I never really thought about it. We always had a nice house, and Karsen and I always had new clothes and went to an all-right school. We were never Hill rich, but we were far from being poor. I didn’t know anything about the Point or the other side of the street until my mom’s accident. When the family lost her income, I think things really went downhill for my folks. It was always kind of just me and Karsen anyway. So I just did what I thought I had to do.”

Search
Jay Crownover's Novels
» Charged (Saints of Denver #2)
» Built (Saints of Denver #1)
» Leveled (Saints of Denver #0.5)
» Honor (The Breaking Point #1)
» Better When He's Brave (Welcome to the Point #3)
» Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)
» Rule (Marked Men #1)
» Asa (Marked Men #6)
» Jet (Marked Men #2)