Bishop Ridge

by Cate Ashwood

  I pulled Jackson to his feet and kissed him hard, the barely there tang of my precome painted across his tongue. His teeth clacked with mine as I walked us backward, almost falling when we collided with the coffee table.

  “Here’s good,” I said, not willing to waste any more time.

  “Anywhere’s good,” he replied.

  We’d done this enough times now that any fumbling, any awkwardness, was long since gone. Stripping each other down was like a well-choreographed dance, and we got naked with stunning efficiency.

  I thanked God I had the foresight to not only put down a plush rug in the living room, but to stock supplies within reach as I lowered myself to my back on the soft surface. Jackson dropped to his knees, positioning himself between my thighs and leaning over me, supporting his weight on the hand next to my shoulder. I looked up at him, struck with awe over the fact that this was my life. He was really here. He was really mine.

  I never thought I would ever get so lucky.

  I reached up, sliding my hand along the side of his face, and pulled him in for a kiss.

  Some of the urgency had transformed into something else, and I was suddenly a lot more willing to take my time with this.

  What was it about having sex in front of a fireplace that made everything seem so much more romantic?

  He pulled back, his gaze locking with mine, and I knew he felt the same way. I could see the love shining in his eyes and knew that I owned him as much as he owned me.

  “You need anything?”

  I shook my head. “Just need you.”

  He grabbed the condoms and lube from the box I’d stashed them in near the hearth, and as quick as I could, I got ready. I didn’t want to wait anymore. It felt like I’d waited my whole life already. I watched his body move, his muscles tensing as he finished up and positioned himself over me once more. I ran my hands along his sides, smoothing my palms over his ass as he lined himself up and pushed in.

  I gasped. “Fuck, you’re big.”

  He stilled, a cocky grin on his face as he waited for me to adjust. No matter how many times we did this, the stretch was always a surprise, but the initial burn that forever seemed to catch me off guard soon morphed into the most delicious feeling of fullness as he seated himself inside me.

  Leaning up, I kissed him, savoring each perfect moment as he drew back for the first time and pushed back in. Over and over, he thrust into me, slowly building the pleasure toward the peak. He swallowed my moans as every cell in my body responded to him, my nerves lit up like the huge Christmas tree that stood in the corner.

  He broke our kiss and held me tighter, his mouth against my ear he told me over and over again how much he loved me. The more he repeated it, the further gone we both became until the words tumbling from him weren’t words anymore.

  I melted into him, the fluid movement of his hips. He knew my body now, almost better than he knew his own—without a word, he shifted, settling into a rhythm that made my eyes squeeze shut and my body go taut with pleasure. Over and over, the blunt tip of his cock slicked over that place deep inside me that made me feel like my entire fucking world was coming apart at the seams.

  “Jackson,” I panted, barely coherent enough to say his name. “I’m…”

  He didn’t need more than that. Slipping his hand between us, he gripped my cock. One stroke, then two and I was coming hard, shouting his name as I shot, covering his fist with come.

  My orgasm tipped him over the edge, and he drove into me one last time, emptying inside me.

  He carefully pulled out as he rolled off me, his chest heaving as he lay beside me. We stayed like that for a while, the sound of our ragged breaths and the crackle of the fire the only sounds in our house. I let my head fall to the side, taking a moment to appreciate the postorgasm glow, his flushed skin and mussed hair leftovers from great sex.

  “You know how glad I am that you have a stubborn streak?” Jackson asked once our heartbeats had returned to normal. His voice was still a little huskier than usual, and it made me smile.

  “I do not.”

  “Oh, yes you do. You keep it well hidden most of the time, but then when it does show up, it’s one to be reckoned with.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m passive as they come.”

  Jackson laughed. “No, because if you hadn’t gotten your panties in a knot about me leaving, I’d be in Santa Fe right now and I’d be miserable as fuck.”

  I kissed the tip of his nose. “You always know just what to say. Such a sweet talker.”

  “I love you.”

  “That’s better.” I grinned, happiness welling up inside me. “I love you too.”

  I didn’t know what the next year, or the next ten years were going to hold for us, but I knew that what I’d found with Jackson was special. The way I loved him wasn’t something everyone found, and I was so grateful I’d been lucky enough to be in the right place at exactly the right time.

  He kissed me again, and a thrill raced through me. I couldn’t imagine a time when his lips on mine would feel any less earth-moving. He pulled back and looked at me, eyes going wide.

  “Logan? Do you smell something burning?”

  I scrambled to my feet and raced to the oven, pulling it open so fast I nearly took the door off. Sitting inside was a perfectly cooked roast. And then I heard the deep chuckling coming from behind me. I turned, smacking him in the shoulder when I saw the shit-eating grin.

  “You’re an asshole,” I told him.

  “Yeah, but I’m your asshole, and you’re stuck with me forever.”

  I kissed him. “I’m counting on it.”

  Sawyer’s Ferry Series

  Alaska

  Laguna

  Zero Hour Series

  A Forced Silence

  A Fallen Heart

  A Forgotten Life (Coming Soon)

  Hope Cove Series

  Brokenhearted

  Wholehearted

  Ironhearted

  Newport Boys Series

  Keeping Sweets

  Resurrecting Elliott

  Standalone Stories

  All He Ever Needed

  Home Skillet

  When the Devil Wants In

  Textual Relations

  Married for a Month

  The Mistletoe Effect

  His Fairy Godfather

  Thirty Things

  Tasting Notes

  The Storm Before the Calm

  Bloom Box (Heartsville)

  Brick by Brick

  Five Ways a Boy Can Break Your Heart

  Riding the Board

  Cate discovered her love for books of all kinds early on, but romance is where her heart truly lies. She is addicted to the happily ever afters and the journey the characters take to get there. Currently residing in White Rock, B.C, Cate loves living just a stone's throw from the ocean. When she's not writing, she can be found consuming coffee at an alarming rate while wrangling her children, her husband, and their two cats.

  Cate loves to hear from readers. You can contact her at cateashwood@gmail.com or on her website http://www.cateashwood.com.

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