Leighton starts to pull away when I notice how fucking good she feels pressed against me. Lush and sweet-smelling. She still uses an apple-scented shampoo, and her skin under my palms is silky soft.
And damn it, she continues to pull away slowly, her head slightly bent as if she’s afraid to let me see what’s on her face. I peer down, wondering what’s going through that beautiful head of hers.
When she lifts her gaze, I’m rocked straight through to my core by the myriad of emotions I see there. Yes, she’s still overjoyed for her son, but there’s also need, uncertainty, and a bit of daring.
Her lips part, revealing just a glimpse of straight teeth, and then her pink tongue slides along her lower lip.
Fuck… is that an invitation?
Later, I’ll look back on it and wonder—would I have still kissed her if I hadn’t been thrumming with the super adrenaline that was fucking with my senses and amping my feelings into overdrive?
For now, though, all I care about is crushing that soft mouth under my firm lips in the hopes of extending this crazy buzz of a high.
I have no right to look at August this way. He and I were over long ago. Not when I had to leave in the dead of the night with orders never to contact him or anyone else I knew ever again, but when I realized I was pregnant with Sam and decided to still abide by those same rules. It was one thing to accept WITSEC’s rules in order to protect mine and my dad’s life, but that choice became a murky gray area when I bore August a son without informing him.
Which means I have no business turning August’s joy over being a donor match into anything else. Knowing we have a real shot at curing Sam’s disease should be enough for me.
But damn it… I’ve never stopped loving August. I love him as much today as I did years ago. And it’s hard not to notice how great he feels pressed against me. He has filled out—in all the right places—and it has been so long since a man touched me.
Almost ten years to be exact. The last time was in my childhood bedroom—with August—as we promised we’d be together forever while he’d been deep inside me.
Add that August just gave me the happiest news I could ever hope to receive to my overwhelming memories… and it equals up to my emotions and rationality being a jumbled hot mess right now.
I look up slowly—warily—and what I see on his face stuns me.
Pure desire. There isn’t a single fleck of recrimination or bitterness, even though he must feel those emotions toward me.
Immediately, yearning pools between my legs as memories of us hit me. Fueled by a near-hysterical gratitude that Sam now has a donor, my reaction is a recipe for all the wrong decisions.
When August’s mouth slams onto mine, I don’t regret it one bit. Maybe I will tomorrow, but not tonight.
Lust sizzles around us, seeming to cradle us in an electric cocoon as his tongue invades my mouth. If I open my eyes, I almost bet I’ll see brilliant sparks igniting—that’s how charged his kiss feels—but I don’t dare. I don’t want to break the spell or ruin one bit of this moment. Instead, I keep my lids scrunched tight and let myself get lost in the sensations.
August’s hands are everywhere. Roaming from my face, to my shoulder, then stroking my arm before wrapping his fingers around my throat for a breath-stealing instant. After a quick squeeze, he moves to pull me possessively against his chest. Whether time has dulled some memories, or else been really good to August, it seems he has filled out in other areas as well. He’s impossibly big—hard and throbbing—and I can’t help but rub wantonly against his erection.
He groans into my mouth. Where I want to smile triumphantly that I can elicit such a reaction from him, I can do nothing but gasp as I’m picked up and roughly tossed onto one of the beds. I bounce, the breath knocked out of me, but, before I can recover, my head starts to spin as August systematically strips me out of my clothes. It’s incredibly titillating, his look of almost feral possession when he yanks my tank over my head and exposes my breasts. Briefly, modesty strikes and I consider covering them, but I lose the opportunity when he quickly rips my sleep shorts down my legs, dragging my panties right along with them.
I’m naked, splayed on the bed, with August breathing heavily as he stares down. His gaze slowly roams over my body, and I wonder if he notices the stretchmarks I got from carrying his son. When he focuses on the area between my thighs, I practically combust as his hands frantically work to unbuckle his belt.