Page 116 of Checking It Twice
He kisses me again, and it’s different now. Deeper, more urgent. Like something fundamental has shifted between us. His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me against him, and I can feel exactly how much this conversation has affected him.
His hands find the hem of my dress, pushing it up slowly. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”
“Mitch, we can’t. We’re at Bennett and Lucy’s house.”
“They’ll never know,” he murmurs, his teeth scraping against my collarbone in a way that makes my knees weak. “I’ll be quiet.”
“You’re never quiet.”
“I’ll try.” His fingers trace the edge of my panties, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. “Please, baby. I need you.”
The desperation in his voice, the way he’s touching me like I’m something precious and necessary, makes my resolve crumble. “The door—”
“Already locked it.” His fingers slide inside me, and I clutch at his shoulders. “Damn, baby. So soft and wet for me.”
“It’s the makeup sex thing. Very effective.”
He laughs softly against my throat.
But then he’s adding another finger, his thumb finding that perfect spot, and coherent thought becomes impossible. I bite down on his shoulder to muffle my moan.
“I love you,” he whispers, working me with practiced skill. “I love how you fight for us. I love that you won’t let me hide from you.”
“Mitch, please—”
“Please what?” His voice is rough, strained with his own need. “Tell me what you want.”
“You. All of you.”
He withdraws his fingers, and I whimper at the loss. But then he’s lifting me, pressing me back against the door as I wrap mylegs around his waist. The position is awkward, cramped, but I don’t care.
When he slides inside me, we both freeze, overwhelmed by the sensation.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You feel so good. So perfect.”
“Move,” I demand, rolling my hips against him. “Show me how sorry you are.”
He starts to thrust, slow and deep, each movement deliberate. It’s the quietest sex we’ve ever had, all whispered apologies and muffled gasps. But somehow it feels more intimate than anything we’ve done before.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my neck. “I’m sorry I tried to leave you out. I’m sorry I was an idiot.”
“Probably won’t be the last time,” I whisper back. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” I bite his earlobe gently. “Now stop talking and make me come.”
That does it. He thrusts harder, deeper, hitting that spot that makes me see stars. I bury my face in his shoulder, muffling my cries as he drives me higher.
Soon, I can’t take it anymore—I shatter around him, clenching tight as waves of pleasure crash through me. He follows seconds later, stilling against me with a muffled curse.
For a long moment, we just hold each other, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. The sounds of the party seem very far away.
“So,” I say finally. “About that cabin.”
He groans. “We’re really going to talk logistics right now?”
“I work summers, Mitch. I can’t just disappear for a month.”
