Page 90 of The Backup Plan

“Nothing, it’s just that… I mean, it’s funny.” She bit her lip. “We were talking about being chunky… this might hurt a little.”

She regretted the words when she felt him flinch. Silly, stupid Avery. He hates the photos. He hates when people talk about his body, whether they like it or not—he doesn’t like it.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Oh God. Not at all. It’s just that?—”

“Avery, look at me.”

She tipped her head up, still stroking him when he bent down and kissed her lips.

“Do you want me? Right now, here?”

“Yes. But I don’t know how you’re?—”

“I want you to feel good. So I want you to sit on that little piano bench and open your legs for me.”

She squeezed him again. Gently, he pulled her hands away and nudged her to the bench.

“I want you wet,” he said, kneeling before her. “I want you open and ready for me.”

Avery leaned back, propping herself against the piano as he kissed his way up her thigh, pausing only to fold his glasses and set them on the keyboard cover. She dragged her nails through his curls, tightening her grip when she felt the first flicks of his tongue. A quiet moan escaped when he plunged a finger inside and bent it as if beckoning her closer. Come with me, his hands whispered. Keeping her eyes closed, she breathed his name again and again as he softened and warmed her with his hands and mouth. When her hips began trembling, he pulled back his hand and buried his tongue inside her as he pressed her hard to the bench.

“I want you desperately,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But if you want to wait until we can get somewhere more comfortable, I’ll survive. For a short while.”

“I want you. Now. Here.”

She indulged in a long look while he prodded and tasted her. A little chunky for a quarterback. His body bloomed with power. The energy in his fingers set her craving a little aggression at his hands. If she could be a little much, maybe so could he. A touch beneath her skirt at a party, or her back against a wall where anyone could walk by. She could pay him back in kind for any of it with a little squeeze or a whispered word. They might tease each other to the point of torture and relish it until they snapped.

He kissed his fingers and slipped them inside her again. Avery’s chest heated as a flush rose from her shoulders to her scalp.

“Cameron, please.”

“Come here.” He lowered his hand to stroke himself. “Get on top of me. You’re in charge that way. Go slowly.”

She slid over him and held his gaze, searching for any sign that she wasn’t what he wanted, or would want the next day, and the next. The gold flecks in his brown eyes glowed a warm amber as he caressed her cheek.

A short, sharp pain became a slow ache as the pressure spread over her body when she took him in. Every inch he filled made her hungrier for another. “Cam, oh my God,” she breathed. “I love the way you feel.”

He groaned as she lowered herself. “Hand me my glasses. I want to see you ride me.”

Pressing her palms to his chest, she rocked her hips forward and back, taking him all the way in as she watched his eyes. “Like that?”

“Harder.” He squeezed her ass, jerking her against his hips.

Avery lifted almost entirely off him and wriggled back down. “You said I could go slow.”

“You were worried about fitting together comfortably, weren’t you?” He grinned as he took hold of her thighs. “Look at that. Perfect fit.”

“Perfect fit.” She caught her breath as he thrust upward. “Oh, maybe slow down just a minute.”

“Don’t squeeze me like that again unless you want me to come. Not yet.”

“I’ll try, you just—God, you feel amazing. I’ll try.”

He tucked a hand behind his head as he pulsed inside her. “You’re even more beautiful than I dreamed, and Avery, I dreamed of this view. Of watching you move like this, sweaty from riding me. I followed you down the hall and took you home every night.”

She barely held back me too. Instead, she leaned forward, bouncing on him and then grinding down, letting the flood of pleasure take her one moment and relaxing into whispers the next. His hair dampened between her fingers as he bucked against her—gentle, demanding—and showed no signs of slowing.

“Did you dream of any other views?” she gasped when she regained enough breath.