You Make Me (Blurred Lines #1)(38)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“You don’t know?”

“Nope.” I yawned. “Brian owns the house, not me. My father didn’t leave me anything.”

“I thought you both owned it.”

“No. My dad’s will was a few years old, written before I turned eighteen. It gave Brian full ownership of the house. I don’t know why.” It still hurt. “He doesn’t give a shit about this place.” Last week I hadn’t been sure I did either, but being here had opened up a whole box of emotions. I felt both nostalgic and sad. The house was full of memories, yet it was so empty. Just dust, and forgotten and neglected things. Everything cheap, everything dingy.

It didn’t feel like a home, but maybe it could. Though that would never happen as long as Brian was the owner.

“It’s for sale,” I added.

“It is?” He sounded shocked. “I didn’t see a sign in the yard.”

“Me either, but I’m not sure a sign in the yard does much good. According to my dad’s friend Billy, Brian is trying to unload it. Take the cash. But so far, no buyers.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling me tighter against his chest.

I tried to glance back at him but I couldn’t really see his face. “Why?”

“Because this is your home. Your connection to your family. And your brother will piss away the profits from it. I’m sorry, baby, I really am.”

Hearing it said like that… it was the last connection to my family. A family that no longer existed. I looked out into the night, the cold air causing me to sniffle. It was no wonder I had been so attracted to Ethan. He hadn’t just offered himself, he had offered a replacement family. Somewhere to belong.

Now it was just Heath and I, two loners on a lonely island. With no one else.

And that terrified me almost as much as the thought of Heath leaving.

I twisted in his arms and kissed him hard, desperately. Within seconds, we had our tongues entwined and Heath’s hand was under my sweatshirt, cupping my breast. I buried my hands in his hair and poured myself into the kiss, wanting more, wanting all of him. He grabbed my ass and tried to grind me up against him, but the angle was wrong. I scrambled to my knees, still kissing him, and shifted so my legs were on either side of him, and I was sitting on his lap.

He groaned. “God, you feel so good. I wish it wasn’t so f**king cold out here. I’d pull your pants down and let you ride me right here.”

At his words, I was already shoving them down myself, not caring about the cold. “It’s not even November yet. I’ll survive.” I kissed him, nipping at his bottom lips. “Just help me with my one pant leg.”

There was no hesitation on his part. He tore my pants off over my left foot. “You’re not wearing any underwear,” he said, sounding shocked, but very, very pleased by the fact.

“No. I got out of bed and came out here. Underwear seemed unnecessary.”

“It is.” He stroked inside me, kissing my neck. “Sit up for a second so I can unzip.”

I went up on my knees on the hard stoop, and something about the position, my hands on his shoulders, hair falling everywhere, pants off, ass in the air, felt so amazingly hot and sexy and naughty that I had no sense of anything other than getting him inside me as fast as possible. I felt frantic and erotic and loved.

“I don’t exactly know how to do this,” I breathed, moving my hips as he pulled out his erection and hurriedly rolled on a condom. I tried to figure out how this was going to work.

“You’re doing just f**king fine.” His hands rested on my hips as he moved me over him. “Let me do all the work, baby. Just sit still.”

Who could resist an offer like that? I was going to answer, but he dropped my hips and body down over him, and his c**k filled me, causing me to gasp at the pleasure. “Ooohh…”

“You like that?” His voice was tight, fingers digging into my flesh.

I nodded wildly.

“Good.” Then he started pumping up into me and it was all I could to hold on and enjoy the ride. He thrust hard and fast and I couldn’t believe how raw and exciting it felt.

He was deep inside me, a primal concentration of all our want right in my core. My mouth was hot, tongue thick, shoulders tense.

Reaching down between us, he rubbed at my clit and I came, biting my lip so I didn’t call out into the night. There were so many sensations overwhelming me, the heat of our bodies, the cold of the night air. The hardness of his grip on me, his thrusts, his gritted teeth and clenched jaw, the softness of my chest pressing against him, my hair sliding over my cheek. His lips, which were tantalizingly close.

“I love the way you look when you come,” he said.

My response was to meet his thrust for the first time, spurred on by the tone in his voice. He was losing control and I loved that. He was always so tense, so in possession of himself, yet his passion burned hot and deep below the surface. I wanted to force it out, I wanted to be the one who made him explode.

“Damn,” he said. “Cat.”

I leaned forward and kissed him hard, swallowing the sound of my name on his lips. He yanked back and let out a groan as he came. It was an amazing sound. It was him and me and nothing but our hot reckless desire.

“I love you,” I breathed as we both stilled, holding each other, panting.

“I love you more.”

But I shook my head, amused. “Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” He nuzzled into my neck. “Mmm. Now let’s go inside before you freeze your ass off.” He laughed. “Shit, I made a pun without even meaning to.”

I lifted myself up but there was no way to get up without falling over since I was tangled up in my pants and spread onto either side of him. Awkwardly, I sat back on the stoop to fix my pants and gave a shriek when the cold cement hit my ass.

“What the hell are you doing? Oh, my God.” He tried to help but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do to assist.

I just jammed my foot into my pants and stood up, yanking them in place, shivering and laughing. “We’re insane.”

“Probably,” he agreed as we went into the house. Closing the front door firmly and locking it, he followed me into the kitchen.

“You want a drink?” I asked.

“I would love a beer.”

“Sorry, no beer.” I pulled a couple of soft drinks out of the fridge. There were still condiments and random food items from before my father had died. It didn’t smell bad, but I was a touch grossed out every time I opened the door and thought about how old everything was in there. I needed to clean it out but hadn’t taken the time to do it yet.