Page 39 of Licks

But she curved forward, her shoulders sloping in dismay.

“Look at me, Gwen.” When she lifted her head, I held her chin between my fingers. “You loved me. I loved you. We should have done something about it, but we didn’t. We hurt each other instead. But what I see in front of me now is a fresh start with the only person who knows I love Gilmore Girls and who spreads rumors I get the shits from eating beans.”

That earned me a smile. “I should run your fan club.”

She should be the goddamn president. I erased the inches separating us, pressed my hips into hers. My dick lengthened, got hot and heavy. She mewled at the contact, her hands snaking around my waist. She pulled me into her.

Lust blasted up my thighs. “Please tell me you want this, too. Because being with you is killing me. I’ve never wanted anything so badly as I want you right now. You have no idea.”

She latched her leg around mine and rolled her hips. “Then stop talking and start kissing.”

I slammed my mouth onto hers. There was no holding back the years I’d fought our pull, the eternity I’d dreamed of sinking into Gwen. My thrusts rocked her into the sharp counter, my lips working hers open. She let me in, sucked on my tongue, my bottom lip. I palmed her ass and pressed into her.

Her aggression rivaled mine. She pushed back so hard I lost my grip on the counter and tumbled to the floor, taking her with me. Because I wouldn’t let her go. Not now. Maybe never. Fuck, I had Gwen Hamilton in my arms, under me, on her apartment floor. Abruptly, I shoved my hand up her shirt. She gasped. My knuckles skimmed her taut stomach until her breast was in my greedy grasp. Her bra was lacy, her nipples hard buds beneath. My cock throbbed with each squeeze of my palm.

Gripping my hair in unforgiving fists, she rutted against me and sucked on my neck, her jeans abrading mine so wildly sparks were sure to light. I thrust harder; she cried out. We were dry-fucking like a couple desperate teens.

“Jesus, Gwen. I can’t last like this. I need you so fucking bad.”

“If I don’t fuck you in the next three seconds, I’ll die.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Then get to work.”

A command I’d happily follow. She pushed up my shirt and yanked at my belt buckle. I made quick work of dragging off her jeans, but mine only made it to my knees. My hand was in her underwear, the slick heat of her obliterating me. “You’re so wet.”

She writhed beneath me and cupped me over my briefs. “That’s all for you.”

A gift I’d never have dared wished for. The pressure of her hand on my cock, rubbing brazenly, had my eyes rolling to the back of my head. She pulled at my waistband, so hard she trapped my hips against hers. I eased her back. “Easy, sweetheart. I need space to get them off. And we need a condom.”

“No.” She stilled beneath me, both of us breathing hard. “I’m on the pill. Are you clean?”

Christ. Bare and balls deep in Gwen Hamilton? Fresh fire leapt up my thighs. “I’m careful and I get tested.”

“Me too.”

And I was about to lose my load.

My ass flexed as we shoved my briefs down, my cumbersome clothing hooked around my knees. Her tank top was shoved above her bra. My shirt was still on, too, hiked high enough that our abdomens touched. Warm skin on warm skin. Gwen’s skin against mine. Sweet anticipation spiraled through me, and the instant her hand circled my rigid flesh, I bucked. It wasn’t pretty. It was instinct. Her hot palm played me, my hard length singing in response. I’d never been burned up by desire. Not like this, riled and flushed with wanting.

The hard floor didn’t matter. We could be locked in a prison cell for all I cared. All that mattered was her willing body under mine, my best friend about to become so much more.

I kissed her neck, sucked on her ear. She guided me to her entrance, a firm grip that didn’t waver. I should have slowed down, eased into her, but the second I felt her cleft, the very center of her, I thrust in. “Gwen, fuck. Oh, fuck.” My Gwen.

The words tore from my throat. Her name resonated in my chest, ringing with rightness.

She clawed my ass. “August, God. How do you feel this good?”

“I’m so hard, baby. So hard inside you.”

Her inner walls clenched, sucking me deeper. I spasmed at the hot tug. I didn’t slow. I couldn’t. Hard, fast strokes followed. Skin slapping. My forearms and knees dug into the hardwood floor, Gwen’s body caged below me. We locked eyes, our mouths open but not touching. We traded grunts and pants, but the intensity didn’t allow for kissing.

There was also a hint of anger in each snap of my hips. Uncensored bitterness for what she’d done, her one senseless act stealing almost a decade from us. But it played like a dead note, a muffled guitar string that enhanced the backbeat. Made it what it was. This was our time.

Now, not then. Anger and all.

It whipped through me, coupled with the way Gwen’s eyes shone with tears, our lips still brushing but not connecting, her knees drilled into my sides.