Page 46 of Falling Back to You

I worked my fingers in and out as my hips rocked. Ozzie occasionally licked his lips, and I wanted so bad to let him have a taste, but we weren’t doing that anymore. Apparently, we were doing this. “You like that?”

“Open wider,” he said. “Do you wish it was my dick moving inside of you?”

“Yes.”

“You like the way I feel, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Look how wet you are for me. Can I get another taste?”

“You should start unbuckling your pants, cowboy, because I’ma want that too.”

“And to think you were going to give my pussy to Shelton Krause. I’m offended for Miss Kitty, because she deserves to be stretched out and Shelton isn’t capable of doing that. I don’t know how to tell you this, darling, but that’s my pussy, and I don’t care who you try to give it to—it’s always coming back to me.” He grabbed my face and tilted it until we were eye to eye. “Do you hear me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Say, Yes, Oz.” This was his way of saying I told you so.

“Yes, Oz,” I grunted, still working my clit at a fevered pace.

Pressing his forehead to mine, he watched with glee as my face twisted and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. He cupped the base of my neck, and the words he whispered in my ear while I rolled into an orgasm were obscene—and just what the doctor ordered. This was all I was asking for: I just wanted a man who could take control. Who slutted me out in the bedroom and gave me the princess treatment everywhere else. Oz allowed me to be soft. He also allowed me to be filthy. It was the perfect balance.

Once I stopped shivering, I rewarded him, pulling my wet fingers from my honeypot and inserting them into his open mouth. He licked them clean, even making sure to get in between my fingers. How could I stop messing with my baby daddy when it was always so good?

Because when you weren’t fucking, it was bad, a voice in the back of my head said.

Ozzie sat next to me, licking his lips. “Should we take this inside, or do you wanna get turned out on your porch?”

I fixed the ruffles in my skirt. “This is so ass-backwards.”

“That’s because you keep denying what you want.” His eyes were soft but defiant.

I didn’t regret messing around with Ozzie. My hesitation was rooted in the knowledge that it could never be enough, because I wanted more than I was capable of reciprocating. Not because I didn’t have an all-consuming affection for him, but because I was terrified of being hurt. Love, no matter the form, packed a hell of a punch, and my jaw was like glass.

“Don’t you have a new girlfriend?” I tossed out.

“If Melodie was my girlfriend, I wouldn’t be here.” He rubbed my thigh, and if he didn’t stop, we wouldn’t make it inside. I’d let him fuck me on the landing of my porch.

My hips were already hinting that I was interested in more. Maple was with Oz’s mother, and that meant there was nothing stopping me from screaming his name at the top of my lungs. After, the postcoital blues would set in and I’d be tempted to let him stay the night. I needed to stop this, and the only way I knew how was to pick a fight.

“Have you slept with her?”

“Dial.” His tone was a warning.

“These are important questions about our sexual history. Like, I haven’t raw-dogged anyone but you. Can you say the same?”

He stood, taking in air. “You don’t think I know what you’re doing?”

“Just asking questions. It helps to be informed.”

“What do you wanna know? Because I’ll tell you.”

“She said you two had been on three proper dates.”

“Yes, we have.”

“So, my question still stands. Did you fuck her?” The words were like venom on my tongue.