You Make Me (Blurred Lines #1)(36)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Body still tight, wet, I sat up, bending over so I could give him a deep, hard kiss. I hadn’t thought about the fact that my scent would be on his lips, his tongue, and while it startled me, I didn’t mind. It felt right, everything with him. I didn’t want to hold back. I wanted to taste him too. Sliding my hands down his chest, I followed the trail with my lips until I reached the waistband of his boxer briefs. Peeling it back, I found his erection with my kisses, sliding my tongue over his smooth flesh.

He made a sharp sound in the back of his throat and I figured I’d made a wise choice. It wasn’t my greatest skill in life, but I figured enthusiasm worked in place of technique. Heath didn’t seem to be objecting as I closed my mouth over him and moved up and down, using my saliva to create a rhythmic glide. His fingers dug into my shoulders. After a minute or two, he actually yanked on my hair, pulling my head backward.

I didn’t lose my grip on him, I just glanced up at him in question, knowing I wasn’t doing it wrong. I could hear in his breathing, feel in his tenseness, that I was doing it very, very right.

“I just wanted to see your face for a second,” he said, voice hoarse. “I just wanted to see that this is real.” Then he released his grip on my hair.

I went back to sucking him, experimenting to find what pace he liked most, exploring with my fingers, cupping his balls. It was intimate and exciting and I enjoyed the sounds he was making. He was quiet, controlled, but he gave up moans that showed I had breached his barriers.

When he pulled back unexpectedly, I glanced up, wiping at my damp lips, hauling in air into my lungs. But before I could speak, he had me on my back, his palm gripping my thigh hard as he spread my legs. I swiped my hair out of my face as he ditched his underwear and pulled a condom out of the pocket of his discarded jeans. He’d brought condoms. He’d been optimistic it seemed. I was glad he had though because I wasn’t prepared in any way.

When he was in place between my thighs, he settled my hip against him, my leg resting on the back of his. He paused, leaning to kiss me softly. “You drive me crazy.”

I could feel him throbbing against me and I wanted to squirm but I swallowed hard and waited, staring up at him, wanting the moment to last forever. “I think it’s mutual.”

He gave me a small smile. “What should we do about it?”

“I think you know exactly what to do.”

The naughty smile widened. “I do.”

Those particular words struck a chord and I was about to comment when Heath pushed inside me, filling me, his bare skin brushing against mine in various spots on my body. I forgot whatever I had been about to say and gave an involuntary cry in ecstasy. Whatever I had remembered about our one and only time on the grass couldn’t compare to what it felt like to have him over me, in me, pushing not with the manic urgency of being young and afraid of being caught, but with the strong confident strokes of a man.

He wore his dog tags, and they bounced against my chin, cold and noisy.

“Sorry,” he muttered,” reaching up to throw them around to his back.

But I caught them first and held them in my fist, holding him to me, wanting no break in rhythm, no break between us. I wanted to be tied together like the links of the metal chain, forever, permanent, endless. Around and around, Heath and I, him to me and me to him and back again, thoughts, love, hearts.

At that moment I didn’t know where he started and I ended.

I only knew that I had never known a greater pleasure, or experienced anything more emotionally and physically intense than when I scraped my nails across his back and came with his name spilling off my lips.

“Cat,” he breathed, eyes dark, brow furrowed. “I…”

But he didn’t finish his sentence. Maybe no words were needed. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

Then he closed his eyes and soundlessly exploded inside me as I held onto him as tightly as I possibly could, wanting to keep him there forever.

I lazily lay across his chest, unable to resist giving his shoulder a soft kiss now and then. Heath was holding me close to him, his breathing finally even again. He’d disposed of the condom, and pulled the sheet up over us to our waists.

“What does this mean?” I asked, tracing the letters across his abdomen.

“It means ‘you made me who I am.’ Or close to it. It’s Latin.”

I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but I felt a shiver of pleasure at his words. “And what does that mean to you?”

He stroked my bare butt, which I was acutely aware of. “You know what it means. It means you.”

“I like.” I wiggled closer to him, enjoying the sensation of skin on skin. Enjoying the easy contentment I felt with him. “That was possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said, feeling sassy, enjoying the ability to be fully naked with him.

“What, my tattoo?”

“I actually meant the sex.”

He laughed. “Dirty girl.”

“You make me feel dirty in a very good way.” I let my fingers drift down over his hip as I half sat up and looked down at him, smiling. Grinning, probably. I couldn’t stop it. I was feeling very, very satisfied.

Heath played the ends of my hair. “You look beautiful, wild and free. Just the way I remember you.”

“I feel wild and free.”

“Who ended things, you or Ethan?” he asked.

The question caught me off guard. I didn’t want to talk about Ethan when we were naked, bodies still warm from sex. “Why does it matter?”

“Because if Ethan broke up with you, then I’m your consolation prize. Not your first choice.”

That was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard. “You were my first choice because I met you first and I never wanted us to end.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You still haven’t answered my question. And by not answering it, I think you did just answer it.”

So he was going to be stubborn. I had no reason not to be honest. “Ethan broke up with me.”

Heath shook his head. “Fucking idiot. How could he break up with you? Is he too stupid to know what he had? God, the thought of his smooth, white hands touching you makes me sick.”

There was more venom in his voice than I expected to hear. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known about Ethan for weeks. I didn’t want him to feel jealousy, not now. “Heath…”

“I want to put my hands on his neck and choke the life out of him.”