Page 68 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

The orgasm coursed through me and I shattered with it, overwhelmed by the impossible relief of release.

But Gav kept working me with his tongue and fingers until my body went lax and I gasped for a breath.

His head shifted, pressing a kiss to my inner thigh and slipping his fingers out of me as he moved back.

He pulled my feet to his chest, then reached for my underwear, sliding each foot in, then slipping the material into place. The same went for my shorts. Then, finally, he rested his hands on my hips.

“Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

I couldn’t even think yet.

Didn’t think I would be able to move.

But then Gav was reaching for me and pulling me down into the cab.

We both fished for toiletries and clothes before making our way to the bathhouse.

I tried not to get weird about it, to wonder what it meant (if anything), to keep looking at him to see if I caught him looking at me.

I failed at all of this.

But after we got dressed for the day, he drove us to a breakfast place where we ordered takeout to eat as we got back on the road.

And in my experience, French toast and crispy breakfast potatoes worked as a balm for all kinds of uncertainty and insecurity.

By the time the carb comfort wore off, there was no time to start worrying.

Because we finally made it.

“You’re sure?” Gav asked as he parked on the side of the road.

“Yeah. Yeah, this is the exact spot.”

I glanced over into the woods at the side of the road, feeling my pulse jump and my belly sink to my feet.

“Hey,” Gav said, grabbing my knee. “Whatever happens, at least we will have answers.”

A strange whimper escaped me.

“I’m here,” he reminded me.

“Yeah,” I agreed, exhaling hard. “Let’s do this.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Gavino

There were a hundred different ways I could have imagined the night would have gone after Caitlin fell out of her bunk onto me.

Me with my cock buried in her mouth was far better than any of those fucking scenarios.

And despite how great that was, finding that I liked having her asleep on top of me might have even been better.

I’d never been a touchy-feely guy.

I didn’t understand why the men in my family were always grabbing their women’s legs, touching their lower backs, or absentmindedly toying with their hair. I didn’t understand why people in movies and books were always cuddling up together.

Now, though, now I guess I got it.