Page 87 of The Last Goodbye

I leaned back, my hands finding the tops of his thighs as I arched my back and rode him over and over.

Nothing had ever felt so good.

“You were fucking made for me, Briar,” he grunted as my gaze locked with his.

He gripped my hips and slid me up and down his shaft, meeting me thrust for thrust.

Our breaths were labored, our bodies covered in a layer of sweat, as we moved together.

Faster.

Harder.

It was too much, and not enough.

A paradox of truth very similar to the man beneath me.

My body tingled everywhere, and I couldn’t hold on any longer.

“I’m so close,” I whispered.

As if he knew exactly what I needed, his hand moved between us, and he’d barely touched my clit before my body reacted.

An explosion of bright lights hit behind my eyes as an overwhelming sensation tore through my body. I continued to ride him as my head fell back with a gasp.

I cried out his name as I went right over the edge, and he thrust into me once more. And then again.

An animalistic sound escaped his lips as he followed me into oblivion.

I fell forward, collapsing on his chest, both of us gasping for air.

We lay there, not saying a word, until our breathing slowed and everything quieted.

“I guess we got that out of our systems, huh?” he asked, his voice gravelly and laced with humor. He slowly slid me off his body, then gently settled me on the bed like I was made of porcelain before he stood.

I pressed up on my elbows to watch him walk to the bathroom. The man was all lean muscle. His long legs strode across the room effortlessly, and his ass was chiseled perfection.

He flushed the toilet, so I assumed he’d removed the condom, and I pulled the covers up over me, suddenly self-conscious that I was naked in Bass Bennett’s bed.

I couldn’t believe we’d just done that.

I’d just done that.

I had zero regrets, but it was still a lot to process.

This was all new for me. Not the sex. Obviously, I was a grown woman and I’d had sex before. But I’d never been with someone who I wasn’t in a relationship with.

I’d never had a fling in my life.

To me, intimacy required trust—hence the reason I’d never had a one-night stand.

How do you trust someone you don’t know?

But I trusted this man. I had no idea why. Obviously, we were far from strangers at this point, as we’d spent a lot of time together, but I rarely put myself in a position to be hurt—and we’d definitely entered uncharted territory for me.

It was also far beyond professional boundaries. He was a client, meaning I’d entered yet another gray area.

All of this was not the norm for me, yet I had no regrets.