Happy Crazy Love Boxed Set

by Melanie Harlow

  “I bet they’re happy you moved back.”

  He opened the sliding door and waited for me to go through it, then he tucked the blanket under his arm and followed me out before closing it behind us. “Yeah, they are. They worry about me living alone up here, though. Like I’m a kid. Drives me crazy.”

  I shivered walking across the stones toward the hammock, my skin prickling in the chilly night air. “Do you get lonely?”

  “Sometimes. Not tonight.” He lowered himself into the hammock and stretched out on his back. “And that’s all that matters to me right now. Come here.”

  Smiling, I took off my shoes and carefully climbed on beside him, tucking myself in against his warm, hard body. Together we spread the blanket over our feet and legs, and he pulled it up over my shoulder.

  “Warm enough?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you.” I snaked one arm across his stomach, beneath his shirt, taking the opportunity to feel up his abs again. “Hey, what’s that honeycomb soap in your bathroom? I love it.”

  “My sister-in law Kelly makes it. Malcolm’s wife”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she makes all kinds of stuff with honey. Her family keeps bees.”

  “How cool. I’ll have to find out where to buy it. Maybe my mom will stock some products in the guest houses. I want her to have all local things.”

  He squeezed me. “That’s a great idea.”

  I asked more about his extended family, and Sebastian recited for me the names and ages of all five of his nieces and nephews.

  “I’m impressed,” I said. “Do you know their birthdays too?”

  “Yes, and my brothers’ and their wives’ and my dad’s if I thought about it, maybe even yours.”

  I picked my head up and looked at him. “Shut up. Really?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You have a winter birthday, right? Is it in December? Maybe the twenty-first?”

  I gasped. “Yes! How do you know that?”

  “I have a good memory for facts, especially involving numbers.” His mouth hooked up on one side. “Want me to recite two hundred decimal digits of pi for you? Would that turn you on?”

  “It might,” I said, and I was only half kidding. “God, you really have a thing about numbers, don’t you? But how did you remember my birthday?”

  He shrugged. “I probably saw it written somewhere, although it’s an odd number and I don’t like those. You should have an even birthday.”

  “What?”

  He chuckled. “Nothing. Just a joke.”

  I loved hearing him laugh. Putting my head on his chest again, I snuggled in a little closer. “This is so nice. I’m so glad you invited me back here.”

  He kissed the top of my head and brought one hand to my hair, twining one long wavy strand around his fingers. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to come.”

  I wanted to look at his face, but I loved his hand in my hair so much I stayed where I was. “Why not? I was here all day, just about.”

  “I know, but…I send a lot of confusing signals.”

  “You do,” I agreed. “But seeing as I like your company and I have no better offers these days, you’ll do.”

  He pulled my hair, making me squeal. “Very funny.”

  I giggled, picking up my head to look at him. “I’m teasing. I want to be here. I needed this.”

  “Needed what?”

  “Just…this.” Even I wasn’t sure exactly what I’d meant, but something about being there in his arms, feeling wanted and beautiful and free and sexy—it gave me hope. I’d felt so bad about myself for so long that I’d forgotten it was possible to feel this good, this excited about life and its twists and turns. Maybe it was just a physical thing between us, but it was enough, and if it fulfilled a need in him too, then all the better.

  We kissed, slowly and lazily, his tongue parting my lips. After a moment, one of his hands stole up to my breast, squeezing it softly, and I moved a hand between his legs, stroking him like I had earlier in the boat, feeling him come to life beneath my palm. “I’m glad you’re here too,” he whispered against my lips. “Otherwise I’d be upstairs in my bed jerking off to you right now.”

  My core muscled tightened at the image, and I pressed my hand over his erection. “You just put a very naughty thought in my head.”

  “What’s that?” His fingers teased my nipple through the thin material of my dress, making them both stiffen and tingle.

  “I want to watch that.”

  He went still. “You do?”

  I bit my lip. “Sorry, is that too dirty? I’ve never watched anyone do it themselves before, I just think it would be hot. But it’s probably too dirty.”

  “No. No. You just surprised me is all.” He kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue more demanding, stroking into my mouth with a skill that started a hum between my legs. “Want to come upstairs?” he whispered.

  “Yes.” I slid off the hammock after him and bent to pick up my shoes when he grabbed my arm.

  “Leave them.” He pulled me roughly toward the dark cabin. A minute later I was breathlessly climbing the ladder to the loft. When I reached the top, I was surprised at how light it was up there—the moonlight shining in the huge window bathed the entire room in silver. I noticed the blue bedspread had been folded back to the foot of his bed, revealing crisp white sheets. Sebastian came up behind me and lifted my dress by the hem, and I raised my arms. He slipped the garment off my head and when I turned to face him, he was turning it right side out, as if he were going to hang it up or something.

  “Really, Sebastian?” I grabbed the thing and threw on the floor.

  “It’s a nice dress.”

  “Oh, God. You’re so cute. But fuck the dress. And fuck your shirt too.” I started unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers trembling with the need to touch him. He helped me finish and I shoved it down his shoulders, dropping it next to my dress. Grabbing his white t-shirt at the neck, he tugged it off, adding to the pile of clothing on the floor. Immediately, I threw my arms around him, pressing my breasts against his warm, bare chest and crushing my mouth to his. He wrapped his arms around my back and lifted me off the floor, and I instinctively circled his trim waist with my legs. His muscular torso felt hot and hard against my inner thighs.

  “Your body is incredible,” I panted as he moved his hands beneath my ass. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on it all day.”

  “I’ve been hard for you for two days,” he said, his fingers kneading my flesh. “And we both know that two is better than one, so I win.”

  Turning us toward the bed, he knelt on the mattress, laying me down gently on my back before pulling my drenched panties down my legs. I propped myself on my elbows, excited to watch him take his pants off and get started on the show. But after removing his shoes, he crawled up my body, lowering his mouth to my chest.

  “Hey.” I fidgeted impatiently. “You said I could watch.”

  “You can. You can watch me do this.” He drew a circle around one hard nipple with his tongue before sucking it hard. “You can watch me do this.” He dragged his tongue in a line straight south, making my clit tingle. “And you can watch me do this.”

  Pushing my legs apart, he buried his tongue in my pussy, stroking up through the center and lingering at the top before doing it again.

  “Oh, God…” It felt so fucking good, and watching him do it made me so hot, I couldn’t bring myself to protest. My mouth hung open as he slowly circled my clit with his tongue, dizzying, decadent arcs that made my toes curl and my hands claw at his bedsheets. Then he sucked it into his mouth, rubbing his tongue against it.

  “You taste even better than I imagined, Skylar Nixon.” He picked up his head for just a second. “And I imagined it a lot. So you have to let me have this.” Dropping his mouth to me again, he pressed my thighs wider as he worked his tongue and lips and teeth over me until the room was spinning and I could hardly breathe.

  “Fuck, Sebastian,” I panted. “You ar
e a fucking master at this. You’re gonna make me come so hard.”

  “Good. Let me feel it.”

  I gasped as I felt one finger slide inside me. Then two.

  “Oh God! What are you doing to me?” Dropping my head back, I fisted my hands in his sheets and writhed beneath his agile tongue and dextrous fingers.

  Actually, writhed doesn’t even begin to cover it.

  I thrashed and moaned and cursed and grabbed his head and rocked my hips, grinding against his greedy mouth until I exploded in feverish bursts of white hot madness, crying out with every rhythmic pulse around his fingers and against his tongue.

  When my body had stopped convulsing, he straightened up and unbuckled his belt. “Still want to watch?”

  “Fuck yes, I do.” I braced myself on my elbows again, watching as he stepped off the bed and got completely naked. Moonlight dusted his shoulders and hair, outlining the powerful masculine lines of his body. The front of him was in shadow, but I could make out the serious expression, the flat hard stomach, the fully erect cock. It stood out from his body as he came toward me, and I nearly lunged for it, mouth open.

  He knelt on the bed again, legs apart, and took himself in his fist. Slowly he began working his hand up and down its thick, hard length. I was breathing hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “God. I could watch you all day.”

  “I can still taste you.” His voice was low and gravelly. “You’re on my tongue, like honey.”

  “Oh God.” Desire ignited again inside me. I sat all the way up, knees wide, one hand moving between my legs. “I’m so wet. You’ve got me dripping.”

  “Yes,” he hissed, his jaw clenched. His hand moved faster. “Drip all over your fingers. Let me watch.”

  Without tearing my eyes from his body, I rubbed my clit, widening my knees and arching my back. The second orgasm built even quicker than the first, gathering momentum inside a minute. “Christ,” I whispered, working my fingers faster, watching the muscles in Sebastian’s abs and forearm and shoulder flex. “You’re going to make me come again. And you’re not even touching me.”

  A few seconds later his body was sprawled over mine, his cock pushing easily inside my slick wet center. “I can’t take it, you’re too beautiful,” he whispered, driving deep. “And I’ve thought of this so many times—I can’t have you in my bed and not be inside you.”

  “I want you inside me.” I clawed his back, his arms, his ass, digging my fingers into his flesh, pulling him closer. “You feel so good there.” And he did—so good I was starting to panic this was the best sex I’d ever had and I’d never feel this way again. What if this was a one-time deal? What if tomorrow the voice in his head told him he’d smother me in my sleep if I stayed the night? He reached behind me, tilting my hips up so he could rub the hard base of his cock against my clit as he rocked into me. I was both amazed and terrified by his skill, by his size, by the way he knew exactly what I needed to feel. Deep inside me, something began to tighten.

  Too deep.

  That deep.

  Oh god. Oh no.

  Please, please don’t let Sebastian Pryce own the one cock that can reach The Spot.

  But he did. The tip of Sebastian’s cock was hitting The Spot, territory uncharted, unknown, unreachable by all prior cock owners who’d attempted to scale the surrounding heights.

  This couldn’t be.

  No! No! No!

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I breathed against his neck, my entire lower body seizing up, my nails clawing at his skin. Fucking hell, Sebastian…you’re so amazing and generous and hard and deep and fuck—“Oh God, you’re perfect. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!”

  “Never,” he growled, thrusting faster and tighter to me. “Come again for me, beautiful, let me feel you.”

  My second climax hit me hard, and I dropped my head to the side, mouth open, gasping as my core muscles tightened around him, again and again and again.

  He came before my orgasm had even ended, throbbing long and deep inside me, his body going plank stiff above me. My hands felt the muscles in his ass flexing, causing a fresh wave of contractions in my lower body, and I rode them out on a long, blissful sigh.

  Perfection.

  Nineteen

  Sebastian

  Perfection.

  Every moment.

  From the front seat of my truck (who’d have guessed Skylar Nixon had a dirty mouth?) to the hammock (her hair pouring like liquid gold through my fingers) to my bedroom (better than any fantasy I’d ever had about her, and certainly better than any reality I’d ever experienced), every single second with Skylar had been perfect.

  I’d been able to stay in the moment ever since she’d agreed to come home with me, so focused on her that there was no room in my mind for anything else. It was enough to make me utter those two little words to myself, the scariest two words I knew…What if? Only this time, the words didn’t frighten me because I was anxious about causing harm—the question wasn’t What if I hurt her? The question was What if I could make her happy?

  And that was fucking terrifying.

  How had she done it? I lay atop her now, our bodies still connected, our breathing still synced, our skin still slick, and wondered what spell had she cast to make me think after just two days that she could be mine and I could be hers and we could have this little place in the woods on the water where no one would bother us? Where we would love each other and explore each other and hurt each other and forgive each other and find grace in one another’s bodies and souls? Surely there had to be something enchanted about tonight—some blissful, ephemeral witchcraft that was bound to fade and break once the sun came up.

  Because I knew better than anyone that this feeling never lasts, not for people like me. It’s an illusion that makes you feel good for a time, but it makes the fall that much worse when you realize it was only a tease. See what it could be like? See what you can’t have? See what you’ll ruin?

  Skylar shifted beneath me, and reluctantly I rolled off her, stretching out on my back, hands behind my head. I locked my fingers together, refusing to let myself touch her the way I wanted to. Expecting her to get out of bed, I was surprised when she turned toward me and laid her cheek on my arm. I wanted nothing more than to hold her, but I couldn’t—I had to steel myself for the inevitable crash that was coming after such a high. I closed my eyes, inhaled and exhaled, desperately trying not to think about how hurt she was going to be when I pushed her away again.

  She lay next to me for a minute before nudging my side. “Hey.”

  “What?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  That I wish tonight would last forever. That I knew how to love someone without hurting her. That I believed in happily ever after. “Nothing. I’m tired.” Her disappointed “oh” softened my heart, but I willed iron into it. “I should take you back.”

  Slowly, she sat straight up. Looked at me in disbelief. “That’s it?”

  “What’s it?” Like I didn’t know.

  “That’s it for tonight? I don’t want to leave you, come home with me, I’m so glad you’re here…and after everything we did tonight, all you can say is I should take you back?” She threw my words back at me.

  “Yeah. I guess so.” I shifted uncomfortably. “You were expecting something else?”

  “Oh my God. Whatever. Fine.” She got off the bed and scooped her panties off the floor, stepping into them before throwing her dress over her head. The silhouette of her curvy breasts and hips against the window made my jaw clench. “Your sheets are a mess,” she said, fluffing that cloud-of-gossamer hair I loved. “Do you have a spare set to sleep on?”

  “I have seven spare sets.”

  She stopped moving and looked at me. “You have eight sets of sheets?” Then she threw her hands up. “What am I thinking? Of course you do. Do you want help stripping the bed?”

  “No.” Did she think I didn’t want to sleep with her honey-and-almond scent next to my skin? I knew it was my
soap she’d used but damn if it ever smelled that good on me.

  “OK then. I’ll meet you in the car.” She went for the ladder and started down.

  Fuck. FUCK.

  “Skylar, wait.” I sat up, dragged a hand over my hair. “Don’t go.”

  “Too late, asshole.” She continued down the ladder and I heard her jump to the floor.

  Her feistiness almost made me smile.

  “Fuck!” I thumped a fist into the mattress, hard. Then I did it again, and again. I knew I shouldn’t take my frustration with myself out on her, but it was so hard. If I didn’t harden my heart against the what ifs, they’d drag me under. She’d drag me under. I’d be fooled again into thinking I was capable of being the person a woman deserved, of loving her the way she needed to be loved. And I knew—I knew—I wasn’t.

  So fuck the big, sad ending. I could stop this bleeding at the source, and I would.

  Angry and sad, I threw my clothes on and jogged out to the truck, where she was already waiting in the passenger seat, legs tight together, arms crossed. I knew she was really mad because it was the first time she was totally silent for more than five minutes. We were almost to her parents’ place when finally she broke down.

  “I’m sorry,” she said shortly, her tone cold.

  I glanced at her, but her pose hadn’t changed. “What are you sorry about?”

  “For thinking I could do this. It’s too frustrating. You’re too frustrating. You won’t talk to me.”

  I pressed my lips together. Stared straight ahead.

  “This is what I mean!” She glared at me but I kept my eyes on the road. “If you’d just tell me what’s going on in your head, maybe I could help!” she snapped.

  God, she was so maddening—how could I explain that I had to keep her at a distance for both our sakes?

  “You told me earlier today that you wanted to let me in. To give you time to let me in.” Her voice had softened a little. “And I wanted to. I was willing to. It was you who asked for more tonight.”

  She was right. I felt some of my hardness crumbling, and I grasped at it. “Look, this is me. This is what I do. And if it’s too frustrating for you, then it’s better to end this now.”