Sweet Summer Love (The Sweetest Thing, #3)

by Sierra Hill

  He staggers back stunned, his hand clutching his cheek and a shocked expression registers across his face. It doesn’t take him more than a second to recover, when a slow smile returns, blinding me with its capable power.

  Without a single word, he grips the back of my neck and pulls me into a scorching hot kiss. We’re lips and tongue, love and loss. Hunger and desire pour from the depths of our souls, mingling with a hint of desperation.

  I place my hands on top his shoulders – either to bring him closer or to push him away – I’m not sure which. My grip is tight, digging into the solid mass of muscle, as it slides down the bulge of his bicep where I wrap my arms around his trim waist.

  Carver loosens his hold on my head and releases my mouth.

  “You slapped me,” he states without malice or contempt, his voice holding a bit of amusement.

  “You left me.”

  “I came back.”

  “You’re not staying.”

  He takes my hand and tugs me toward the hallway near the restrooms, a dank corridor in the dark, hipster bar. When he stops, he presses my back up against the wall towering over me, one hand on my hipbone and the other above my head in a very alpha-like posture.

  Carver’s voice is low and tight. “It was never meant to be permanent, Lo. I didn’t want to leave you, but it seemed like you needed some time. So much happened between us that weekend. It was heavy. We needed time to figure things out.”

  I don’t look at him. I can’t. “It doesn’t matter. It never did. We can’t be together, now that you made it big.”

  “Bullshit,” he snaps, startling me with the caustic censure as I stare at him with wide eyes. “We can be together. I want you, Lo. I want you in my life.”

  “That won’t work. You’re going to be in LA. I’m here.”

  Carver steps back and looks at me as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m drunk. Or insane. Or possibly both.

  “LA? What are you talking about? I’m going to be here. In Seattle. You’re looking at the newest draft pick for the Puget Sound Pilots.” He smiles proudly, confusing me even more.

  “But...on TV, they said you were drafted by the Clippers. I don’t understand.” I shake my head in confusion.

  Carver leans down, crowding me against the back wall. His breath is warm and has a faint scent of beer.

  “Yes,” he confirms, his voice hot liquid, melting my cold body. “But a trade was brokered right afterward. It’s a common occurrence during draft day. The Clipper’s wanted Zeke Aldridge, the Pilots’ current point guard, and the Pilots get rookie sensation, me. I’m moving back home.”

  When I remain silent, Carver presses on.

  “Aren’t you happy?”

  I can’t help it when a bubble of hysteria bursts from my lungs. I’m laughing so hard I have to lean over and place my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Carver just stares at me like I’m a raving lunatic.

  Maybe I am. But I’m ecstatic right now and a little delirious.

  He rolls his eyes once I’ve stopped laughing, stepping in toward me again, a lazy grin growing at the edge of his lips. “I’m not sure what’s so funny about this, but I’m glad you can have a good laugh at my expense.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just really good news. And yes, I’m very happy for you, Carver.”

  His lips find the side of my neck, flicking the soft wisps of hair away and sucking lightly as my belly swells with the flapping of butterfly wings.

  “I think I can make you even happier.”

  “Mm,” I hum, an ache building between my legs that I know he’ll be able to take away. “How do you plan on doing that?”

  “Let’s get out of here,” he mumbles against my sensitive flesh. “And I’ll show you.”

  I tilt my head away to get his attention. “Don’t you have to stay? This is your own draft party. I think your fans would be disappointed if the star left so early.”

  His groan sounds like he’s ill with a fever.

  “Fine. But you’re joining me back there. I’ll introduce you to my agent and some of my friends who came up for the party and then we’re getting the fuck out of here. I’m taking you back to my hotel where I plan to make you a very happy woman, all night long.”

  He gives me a peck on my mouth and my tummy shimmies and flips, as he takes my hand and leads me back to his party.

  Chapter 24

  Carver

  To watch Logan interact so effortlessly with Crissy and my former teammates made me the happiest guy alive. And turned me the fuck on.

  She’s always had an easy-going style, but her natural effervescence was illuminated tonight amongst the crowd. She wasn’t even ruffled when the guys shared some embarrassing stories about my sexual prowess in school. She just laughed, joined in on mocking me and took it all in stride.

  She also got along with my friends, which is always a good indicator about a potential girlfriend. Cade, Lance and Van all made it up to my draft party, showering me with congratulations and ’atta boys all night long. It was a night I won’t forget anytime soon.

  The draft aside, having Logan back in my life is cause for even further celebration.

  The circumstances that kept us apart over the last four years sucked. I wish I could go back in time and make a better effort at finding her. I would have cleared the air and found a way to work our way back to good. All those moments that could’ve been, but don’t exist now because of how things ended between us.

  Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

  On the other hand, maybe it’s what needed to happen. For us to be apart. To learn who we are as individuals. To grow the hell up.

  I was deadly serious when I told her we’d leave in thirty minutes. I was ready to take her back to my hotel room within ten, but she was right – I needed to be there to celebrate my big day. It’s not every day you get drafted into the pros.

  But when the time came and I found her talking with Cade and Ainsley, I didn’t hesitate to throw her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold and drag her ass out of that bar. To a lot of wolf whistles and catcalls, I might add.

  As I met Crissy in the hallway toward the exit, he gave me a congratulatory pat on the back and quirked a bushy eyebrow at me, presumably for my caveman behavior.

  “Do try to save a little strength for your faithful viewers and fans tomorrow at the press conference,” Crissy said with a lewd grin as I walked by.

  “I hope I’ll be a withering mess, but I’ll be there. You can count on it.” I wiggled my eyebrows, as Logan kicked and giggled when I patted her ass.

  We Ubered it to the Four Seasons, where Crissy had booked me a room when I told him we’d not be going to LA but Seattle instead. I’m glad Cris is my agent. He’s a decent guy and has been looking out for my best interests since day one. But even more so when he went to bat to get me a spot on the Pilots’ roster.

  While I’m now a name on the roster, things are still up in the air as to my longevity and career with the Pilots. I could get cut within the first two weeks of training. Or could stay the length of my NBA career. It’s a crapshoot but I’m determined not to worry about all that right now. Not when Logan’s body is stretched out beautifully naked on the fluffy down comforter of the hotel bed.

  The minute we walked in the room – well, after she got over the shock of the ornate and luxurious suite I had – I began divesting her of her clothes. One piece at a time, starting with the red flannel shirt she wore.

  It took every ounce of restraint to avoid ripping off her clothes, throwing her down on the floor – or maybe up against the wall – and fucking her fast. My balls ached and my cock pressed painfully hard against my jeans – dying to be inside her again.

  And here I am, still painfully hard, my jeans pulled down to my ankles, as I grip my cock in my palm, stroking it leisurely while I’m on my knees over my beautiful girl. Logan watches with heated interest, her fingers wandering over her taut belly, teasing me with her seductive movements.

  “I�
�ve had a lot of time to think about what I’d do with you the next time we fucked.”

  Her voice is raspy. Low. Sexy. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “I could tell you...or I can show you. Which one do you want?”

  I bend forward and suck in her tight, rosy nipple into my mouth, biting it with just enough force to send her body jerking with a yelp.

  My tongue laves across the rosy flesh, soothing away the pain, as she pants and squirms below me. Her moans grow louder. Needier. Just like I want her.

  Every part of me yearns to spread her legs open and go fucking wild inside her. Lose myself until I can’t even say my name from the pleasure that consumes me.

  “Both,” she says breathlessly.

  I take even breaths through my nose, calming my revving engines to avoid rutting her like a dog. I flip her over with hands on her hips, her sharp gasp garnering a devious smile from me.

  She’s now on her knees facing the headboard, shoulders and head pinned to the mattress, ass in the air. She moans lustfully because she knows what’s coming. She wants what’s coming. And what’s coming will soon have her coming all over my face.

  “I’ll give you both...or maybe not,” I tease, one finger coasting down her spine. “Arms overhead.”

  She yields to my demand, the slope of her back bowing in front of me.

  I place my hands on the insides of her thighs, pushing them out and lifting her ass higher. Because of our height difference, I scoot her toward the edge of bed as I land on my knees behind her, the canvas of her pussy at eye level.

  My fingers feather lightly over her smooth, apple-bottom ass, gently caressing a path down between her cheeks.

  She stills...she’s waiting for it. Her body quivers in anticipation of the smack that usually comes.

  But I make her wait, teasing her while I palm both cheeks and spread her open. The sight is so incredible I have to drop one hand and squeeze my cock to keep from releasing.

  Logan is wet and glistening. And it’s beautiful.

  “You expect a spanking, don’t you, naughty girl?”

  She moans her response, her nostrils flaring.

  “I’m not sure what a spanking would accomplish. You’re already wet, aren’t you?”

  I trail my thumb down between the globes, pressing into the folds of her hot seam. She’s gloriously wet. Her hips push back, yearning for more.

  I give her more. She’ll always get the most from me. The best of me.

  It’s unfair of me to say this to her when I have her trapped in this compromising position, but I’m a jealous prick. And I need her honesty while she’s drunk with lust.

  “Tell me, Logan. Tell me I’m the only one. That there’s no others. That it’s only me you want to be with.”

  Dipping my tongue in between her sweet folds, I lick upwards, tasting the sweetest part of her. She’s trembling and I can tell only a few more swipes will get her off.

  I swipe again, circling my tongue against her clit as she screams out my name.

  “Oh, God, Carver! Yes...it’s you. Only you...always you.”

  This right here is everything I could ever want. Her body needing me. Needing what I can give her. What no one else could ever give.

  Her sweet, tangy flavor explodes across my tongue as I continue to lick and suck greedily between her legs. My hands grip her hips hard and I smile perversely knowing that she’ll have dark bruises there when I’m done with her.

  She’s writhing and grinding against my face now, and I know she’s close. Ready to give into the pleasure that’s building within her. I know how to take her to the edge using all the weapons in my arsenal. There’s no resistance when I slide two fingers inside, the wet heat and the friction unleashing the storm within her.

  Just like that – she’s coming with a low-pitched mewl. Her body clamps down around my fingers and her body tremors beautifully. I want that vice-like grip around my dick.

  I give her a few moments to recover and then stand up behind her. Her hands still grip the comforter above her head and my smile widens knowing I’ve created such a lingering response. But I won’t rest. I’m not done with her. Not even close.

  I reach out with one hand and lightly feather up the curve of her back until I reach the front of her neck. With just the right amount of pressure, I wrap my fingers around her exposed throat, pulling her body toward me so she’s flush against my chest.

  The sensation of her throat swallowing – opening and closing – induces a volcanic response within me. The tip of my cock is pressed against her lower back.

  “How bad do you want me, Lo? How much do you need me?” I emphasize my question with a slide of my arousal across her entrance.

  I do this a few times, as it glides easily over her slick folds and she whimpers breathlessly, bucking unabashedly against my straining dick.

  She manages to turn her head to look over her shoulder, her lips parted, eyes closed. My lips capture hers, my tongue sweeping through her mouth. I know she can taste herself on my lips and the thrill shoots down my spine.

  “Carver,” she rasps, pulling her mouth from mine. “Give it to me. I want you inside me now.”

  Before I can pick up the condom package I’d laid on the bed, Logan reaches underneath her legs, latches a tight fist on to my cock, and lines me up at her entrance. All her heat – her wetness – make me crazy. Lost in the sensation of oblivion.

  My body wants to push in. Sink deep into her wetness. Relish everything she’s offering me. But I hesitate. My mind questions this insanity. Because we’ve been down this road before.

  Logan is the only girl I’ve ever fucked without a condom. I’ve never trusted any other girl. I’d learned from my past mistakes.

  “Lo.”

  “I’m good, Carver. I’m covered. Are you?”

  Hell yes, never been better. I’m clean. Was just tested in my physical. I want this with Logan again. I want it all.

  Instead of a verbal answer, I take another pass at her entrance and then sink into her wet heat in one fluid motion. The hand I have wrapped around her throat tightens, the other roams latches on to her breast, plumping and plucking at her nipples.

  Logan squirms underneath my ministrations, her ass jutting up against my pelvis as I move inside her. I’ve never felt a more exquisite body. She’s developed in all the right places since the first time we had sex. Back then, she was still stick straight, with hips like a boy. Now she has the curves of a woman.

  “Goddamn, Lo. You feel so fucking good.”

  She hums when I place open-mouthed kisses at her shoulder, sucking greedily at her powder scented flesh.

  Coasting my hand down her torso, my fingers snake over the soft swell of her belly until I reach the promise land. I caress the insides of her thighs, enjoying the sounds of her raspy breaths. The anticipation builds as I toy with her, lightly brushing over her soft mound. Each time I make a pass, flicking the swollen bud, she tenses up and grips me like a vice.

  I groan when her hands circle behind me and she grabs my ass. My balls begin to tighten in a telltale sign that I’m getting ready to unload. But before I do, I need to know what she wants from me. If we’re on the same page.

  My voice is thick, barely recognizable. “Am I coming inside? Or pulling out to mark what’s mine?”

  She surprises me when she flattens her chest down to the bed, exposing her back. My canvas.

  “Mark me,” she moans.

  “Ah, fuck.”

  Hottest thing ever.

  She’s not only beautiful, but willing. Allowing me freedom to be dirty. Without condemnation. She likes it as much as I do.

  Grabbing a fistful of hair, I yank with just enough force so she feels it, but not enough to injure. Her head tips back so I can see the tip of her freckled nose and her forehead. And then glance down to where our bodies are joined. Her heart-shaped ass fully exposed to me, begging me to spank it. To redden those creamy cheeks. But I’ll save that for another time.

&nb
sp; With my other hand, I grip her hip and increase the pace of my thrusts. Each time I do, those firm cheeks jiggle with the force of my momentum and I know I’m hitting her deep. She gasps and whimpers, and with each sound, I get closer and closer to losing myself.

  The familiar tingling begins crawling up my spine, uncoiling like the rope on the anchor, as my body readies itself to let loose. I pull my dick out in one quick motion, gripping my slick length and jerking it in long hard pulls. And then my head hangs back in ecstasy and I come all over her back.

  Momentarily dazed, I let it all sink in as my breath begins to calm and my body recovers from the incredible high it just experienced. When my gaze floats to Logan’s face, which is turned to the side against the bed, I notice her eyes are closed and her lips are drawn into a serene smile.

  “God, you are so beautiful it hurts.”

  One of her eyes pops open, her forehead wrinkled. “Ha. I bet you say that to all your girls.”

  What the actual fuck?

  I flop on my side to face her, cupping a cheek, still flushed from her orgasm. She may just be joking, but I want her to know the truth.

  “There’s only one woman I’ve ever called beautiful. She’s the same one I fell for when I was just a boy. She’s the only one I’ve ever loved.”

  Logan’s lashes flutter, her lips part and I take the opportunity to plant a kiss on them. Gentle. Soft. Barely a breeze.

  “I love you, Logan. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

  Chapter 25

  Logan

  This is dangerous being with Carver again this way.

  I’ve never been a weak woman. I couldn’t with three older brothers and a father who didn’t want an emotional girl in the house. But the pain I felt when Carver broke my heart and left me to face the consequences of our love on my own was too much to bare. It took me years to overcome it. To stand on my own again without falling.

  Since then, with the exception of the tears I cried the day I gave birth and relinquished the rights to my baby boy, I haven’t wept or shown emotion over anything since. My heart became an empty vessel, left wounded and broken all over the hospital floor that day. I vowed never to get attached to another human being again. All they do is break your heart and abandon you.