That Secret Crush

by Quinn, Meghan

  “Eve,” he says, his deep voice sending a wave of chills over my skin. “Turn around. Let me see you.”

  This is happening.

  My pulse roaring in my ears, drowning out the pitter-patter of the shower, I shakily turn around and look up into his mesmerizing eyes. Thick black eyelashes frame those matching blue pools, and instead of a sly or wicked smile curving his lips, all I can see is true yearning and desire as he reaches down and pulls me in closer.

  My hands fall to his brawny chest, and a light smattering of trimmed hair tickles my fingers. Too nervous to look down, I stare up into his eyes, and he returns my gaze, never glancing any farther down than my neck. Instead, he explores with his hands.

  And it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever felt.

  His teeth nip at his bottom lip while his hands travel up my ribs, straight to my breasts, and he takes one in each hand. His calloused thumbs swipe over my hardened nipples, and his eyes glaze over when he takes each nipple between his fingers, pulling a gasp of pleasure from my lips.

  “Shit,” he mutters, eyes still trained on mine. “Eve . . .” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, he keeps one hand on my breast as the other starts to travel south. That’s when I stop him—because it’s my turn.

  I take his wrist and move his hand back up to my breast before trailing my fingers down over his pecs and then farther down, reveling in the thick divots of his abdomen, exploring each and every one of them, still holding his gaze.

  Smooth skin twitches beneath my fingers as his breathing picks up. I glide my hands lower and lower until I reach the V in his waist. I drag my fingers along the deep valley that leads straight to his lower half.

  “Fuck,” he says through his teeth, practically hissing when my fingers dance close to his erection.

  His hand travels down my body again to just above my pubic bone, where he swipes his thumb lower. I spread my legs slightly wider, my eyes never leaving his.

  I move my hand lower.

  He does the same.

  My fingers glide so close to the root of his cock that he hitches forward.

  His fingers swipe across my slit quickly, and that’s when my gaze breaks and my eyes shut.

  I count to three, mentally preparing myself right before I close the rest of the distance and wrap my hand around his cock.

  Thick.

  Hard.

  More than I anticipated. So much more.

  I can’t take it anymore. I glance down, and all the air escapes my lungs as I take him, all of him, in. Perfectly sculpted stomach, powerfully strong quads—probably from all the balancing he has to do out on the boat—and his cock, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.

  When I look back up at him, his eyes are glazed over, his gaze heated as he stares down at me.

  His hands trail back up my body, and he lightly cups my breasts, testing their weight, seeing them for the first time. I use that moment to glide my hand up and down his length, testing his sensitivity with a little pressure and then a whole lot. When I squeeze the top, his eyes practically roll to the back of his head as he leans past me and shuts off the water.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” I ask, a shiver running through me.

  “Not here—in your bed,” he says, his voice heavy.

  He whips the shower curtain open and throws two towels over the both of us before scooping me up into his arms and hauling me to my bedroom. It’s dark with only the smallest amount of streetlight bouncing off the snow and through the sliver of windows in my basement room. Reid leans over to the nightstand and flips on the dull light, illuminating the room in an orange-and-yellow glow. It’s perfect, just enough light so I can see every sculpted inch of Reid’s body.

  Hovering above me on the bed, he parts the towel and stares down at my body, his eyes roaming, taking their time, until he says, “How drunk are you?”

  I blink a few times, caught off guard. Is he drunk? Honestly, I don’t even feel the slightest bit tipsy—I think the situation has sobered me up.

  “I don’t think I’m drunk at all.”

  “Are you sure?” I nod. “Good, because I plan on doing some dirty things to you tonight, and I want you remembering every single lick, every kiss, every thrust.”

  If I wasn’t already turned on, I would be now. In the back of my mind, I always figured Reid would be good in bed, maybe even a little more adventurous than me, and from that sentence alone, I know I was right.

  He leans down and runs his nose along my jaw. “Just to clarify, you want me to fuck you, right?” he asks, his voice a soft tickle against my skin. “You want me to taste that sweet pussy of yours and then spread your legs and bury my cock so deep inside of you that you don’t think I could fill you any more . . . until I go that extra inch.” He bites down on my earlobe, making me gasp. “You want that, right, Eve?”

  “God, yes,” I moan, surprising myself with how desperate I sound.

  “Good.” He presses his lips across my jaw to my cheek and then to my mouth, connecting our mouths for the first time. He takes his time, molding our lips together but never going any farther past them. He keeps it sweet, just exploring the surface as his hand gently trails down my ribs and between my legs, which I spread for him.

  Mouth still on mine, he lowers himself to the bed, resting on his side so I can spread my legs even farther, before he takes one finger and rubs it up and down my slit, over the sensitive nub that’s already throbbing and yearning for release.

  “So wet,” he murmurs against my lips. “So sexy.” His tongue flicks across my mouth. “Open up for me.”

  My lips part, and his tongue dives in; this time his kisses have a little bit more urgency to them, a deep need guiding our tongues together. His mouth and his fingers work in tandem, sliding in and out with such precision that my orgasm is already blooming, climbing from the tips of my toes past my shins to my knees, up my thighs . . .

  “Oh God,” I moan just as he removes his fingers and slides down my body, his mouth tracing a path. For a few brief seconds—entirely too short—he pulls my nipples into his mouth but quickly moves farther down until he’s planted between my legs, his mouth hovering above me.

  I try not to think about how my friend is about to go down on me, and instead I revel in the fact that he’s the man I’ve wanted for so long. This truth sings through my brain while he hikes my legs up and over his shoulders, and I relax, falling into the bliss of his touch.

  He spreads me with his fingers and then lowers his mouth; the scruff of his jaw deliciously scrapes along my inner thigh as he brings himself to my center. He presses his tongue flat against me and very slowly drags it up only to return, repeating the movement.

  I’ve never in my life felt anything like it before—the pressure, the rhythm, the possessiveness in his grip on my hips, the feel of his jaw, rough against my delicate thighs—it’s like he knows exactly how to push me higher and higher, and he’s pressing every button.

  Tongue flat against my clit, he moves it back and forth, gliding rather than flicking, and it’s like he’s fully massaging me as he holds my hips in place. White-hot bursts of pleasure shoot through me with every twitch of his tongue, and before I know it, my orgasm is building up, coming from so deep inside of me that I can’t seem to feel anything from the waist down besides where he’s pressing his tongue.

  Hands grip my bedding.

  Chest shoots up.

  Heart about to break my ribs from beating so fast.

  A gasp.

  A moan.

  And then it hits me; pure pleasure rips through my body, tearing through every defense I’ve ever erected and exposing me, raw and real, for Reid to see.

  Vulnerable.

  High off of him.

  And when he looks up, he sees it. He can see what he just did to me, how he tore me down and revealed the real me. Not the sassy Eve or the witty Eve or the Eve who’s constantly teasing him. No, he sees the down-to-earth, sometimes fragile, and completely genuine Eve. The s
ame Eve he comforted at the cemetery.

  Two times in one day. I very well might be lost to this man.

  Pressing a kiss against my stomach, he works his way back up to my face, tenderly brushing his thumb over my cheek as he stares down at me.

  I’m at a loss for words, unable to formulate any sort of response. I feel so beyond vulnerable that all I want to do is bury my head in his chest and avoid looking into those eyes, those comforting, endlessly sexy eyes.

  “Hey,” he says quietly before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “Are you okay?”

  “Great.” I return his chaste kiss and then run my hand down his rock-hard body to his solid erection, which is lying flat against my leg.

  In one smooth motion, he rotates us so he’s on his back, and I’m on top. Smiling, I slide down his body, letting his skin glide against mine until I reach his cock. I take in a deep breath and stare down at his length. It’s more than ready, aching for any sort of release, so I wrap my hand around the base and squeeze.

  His eyes shut, and the veins in his neck pop as he tries to hold on to control. I squeeze again but this time move my hand up a few inches and then back down. His chest muscles contract, his hands search for something to hold on to, and when I lower my mouth down to the tip and flick my tongue across the head, his entire upper half lifts from the bed, and his hand is cupping my chin.

  “Fuck, Eve, you can’t do that. I’ll come in seconds. And when that happens, I want to be deep inside of you.”

  Desperation laces his face, and I know I want that just as much as he does. I want him to claim me, to possess me, to take everything I have to give and make it his.

  So I roll to the side and pull out a box of condoms from my nightstand. He frowns at the stash and then looks back at me.

  “How many—”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence.” I press my finger to his lips. “This is just you and me.”

  Still frowning, he eyes the box.

  Ugh, men.

  I soothingly rub my hand over his corded chest. “It’s been a while for me, if that makes you feel better, but I like to make sure I always have something on hand, just in case.”

  Still not happy, he hops up from the bed and walks out to the bathroom. My stomach drops when I hear him pick up his jeans. Is he really leaving?

  But then he comes back with a strip of condoms and rips one off, and my stomach returns to its rightful place.

  He hops back on the bed and pushes the box away. “Those won’t fit me.”

  Hmm . . . I guess they won’t.

  “And I suggest you get rid of them because you won’t need them anymore.” He rolls the condom on and sweeps me onto my back, placing me beneath him again. My heart flutters, and I can’t contain the smile that’s lifting the corners of my mouth.

  You won’t need them anymore.

  Just like that, in an instant, Reid Knightly is claiming me. There’s no talking about it, no awkward conversation, just one statement that speaks louder than any other long talk about where this might be going.

  You won’t need them anymore.

  The best five words I think I’ve heard in a long time.

  “Spread your legs, Eve,” he says, his voice gruff, just about to lose control.

  I do as he says, and the tip of his cock dances with my entrance as he leans down and greedily takes my mouth with his. And there’s no more soft, teasing exploration this time around. No, something passes through us, a carnal need to be as close to one another as possible.

  Tongues clash.

  Teeth collide.

  Lips fight for more.

  And the tip of his cock slowly enters me, stilling my mouth and pulling a gasp straight from my lungs.

  “Relax,” he whispers, moving his lips to my ear and then down my jaw while his hand travels up my stomach to my breast. Barely inside me, he rolls my nipple between his fingers, and immediately my lower half relaxes, allowing him to slide in a few more inches. He continues to roll my nipple over and over, lighting me up inside, sending wave after wave of thrilling pleasure through my veins.

  “Fuck,” he mutters, pushing in farther. “Shit, Eve, you feel too damn good.”

  His mouth travels back to mine, and this time the crazed man who, just a moment before, took over my lips has turned his kisses to soft, passionate ones. Long, slow strokes with his tongue match the slow roll of his fingers over my nipples. His hips lazily move in and out, pushing deeper with every thrust. When he’s fully inside, he stills, letting me adjust to his thickness.

  He’s so much more than I expected. From his broad and sculpted body to the feel of his rough scruff against my sensitive skin to his dirty mouth, being with Reid by far exceeds any fantasies I’ve ever had.

  The real man is addicting, intoxicating, consuming.

  I get lost in his touch, in his pulses, in his sweet and tender kisses.

  In the span of one snowy evening, on a day that brings sorrow and pain, Reid Knightly has easily destroyed me for all other men.

  A thick pressure builds at the base of my spine, and with each thrust, it builds higher and higher until my impending orgasm starts to ripple through my body.

  “Reid,” I gasp, surprised at how quickly that happened. “I’m going to—”

  “Me . . . too,” he growls right before he picks up the pace and sends us both over the edge, our moans mingling together, his deep, mine a high, breathy gasp.

  His thrusts dull until he presses his body against mine and buries his head in my neck. We’re panting, both catching our breath as our pulses skyrocket, our hearts beating wildly against each other.

  My hand strokes his back; his lips caress my neck until he pulls up and stares down at me, greeting me with an irresistibly devastating grin.

  “I’m pretty sure things just changed between us.”

  I laugh and nod. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Do you regret it?” he asks, his smile faltering.

  I shake my head. “Not even a second of it, but I’m still mad at you for shoving snow down my pants.”

  He kisses my nose and then hops up off the bed. “You’ll get over it.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask, sitting up.

  When he turns around, his eyes land on my breasts and then travel up to my eyes. “Taking care of the condom. Don’t move, because I have plans.”

  “Yeah? What kind of plans?”

  “Cuddle plans.”

  “Big dick and likes to cuddle. Wow, Knightly, you should have been advertising that a long time ago.”

  His laughter trails down the hallway as he calls out, “Looks like I have to make up for lost time then.”

  I flip back on the bed and get under the covers, trying to warm back up as I contemplate this strange new reality. Reid Knightly and I just had sex—but not just sex. No, we had mind-blowing, life-changing, earth-shattering sex. And after all of that, he wants to cuddle.

  I don’t think it could get any better than this.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  REID

  Smack.

  I shoot off the pillow and blink the sunlight away from my blurry eyes as my ass cheek stings.

  “What the—”

  “Rise and shine,” Eve’s voice chimes. I look to the right and find her standing beside the bed in an oversize shirt and holding a cup of coffee. I rub my palm against my eye, sitting up and trying to comprehend what time it is.

  “Did you just smack me on the ass?”

  She nods. “Yup. I couldn’t help it. Sleeping naked was a bad decision because your tush was just hanging out in the open, waiting for me to pop it.”

  I reach out and take the coffee from her. I press my lips against the edge, test the temperature, and down a large gulp before putting it on the nightstand and pulling her down on the bed with me.

  I wrestle her onto her back. “I’m pretty sure me sleeping naked last night came in handy when I found you between my legs, playing with my junk in the
middle of the night.”

  “I wasn’t playing with your junk—ugh, why do you have to say it like that?”

  I slip my hand up her shirt. “Then what would you call it?”

  “Examining the goods, seeing how fast it could rise.”

  I shift my hardened cock against her leg. “Fast, as we discovered multiple times.”

  Moaning, she spreads her legs and melts into the bed. I swear to Christ himself, never in my life have I ever met a woman more responsive to my touch than Eve. If I found out anything last night, it was that I was meant to be with her like this. Intimate and close.

  Staring down at her, I say, “Morning.”

  She smiles. “Good morning.” She reaches up and strokes my hair. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yeah, spread your legs more.” I go to duck under the covers, but she laughs and holds me in place.

  “I meant real food.”

  “Um, I saw your fridge; there’s no food in this place.”

  “I have protein bars.”

  “Hmm.” I look to the side, contemplating my options. “Let’s see, I could have a protein bar, or I could eat out Eve’s pussy. Wow, this is a tough one. Protein bar or Eve’s pussy—how do I even decide?”

  “Stop it.” She swats at my chest. “They’re good protein bars.”

  “Nah, I’m good.” I try to dive under the covers again, but she clamps her legs together.

  “Uh, do you have a problem with my mouth on your clit?”

  “No, I just thought . . . you know . . .”

  Oh hell.

  “You want to talk,” I finish for her. Her cheeks flush as she nods.

  “I think it might be best, you know, since things are complicated between us.”

  “They’re only complicated if we make them.”

  I reach for her legs again, but she chuckles and pushes me away. “Keep it together, Knightly. You had me four times through the course of the night—you can wait until we’re done talking.”

  Brows lifted, I look down at my dick. “Not sure waiting is an option here.”

  “It’s not my fault you’re so horny.”

  “Uh, as a matter of fact it is your fault. Exhibit number one: your hard nipples.” I point at the nubs poking against her shirt. Her face turns a deeper shade of pink. “Exhibit number two.” I drag my hand up her thigh. “You’re not wearing any underwear. Do you really think that’s fair for me, knowing I have such easy access right now?”