Chapter 17

Felicity

A beautiful Saturday morning of enjoying my coffee on the porch and listening to the birds sing. I glance over at Shepherd's house, sighing. If only I was really enjoying my coffee and listening to the birds. The truth is, I haven't stopped thinking about Shepherd's offer for sex.

When he first offered I wasn't sure if I was more offended that he was pimping himself out to me or that he felt the need to offer. After I sat across from him eating my delicious dinner, which was mildly infuriating, finding out he can cook such amazing food, my stupid hormones took over. I thought about that night we spent together and how good it was. I watched him put his fork in his mouth and how his tongue poked out to lick his lips. So, I started to rethink the logic. What we're doing is recycling. We've been together before so it's not new, it's recycled. Recycling is good for the environment, so it's actually like we're helping.

My logic really makes no sense, but anything is better than admitting I want to climb Shepherd and get some much needed relief.

We've spoken briefly since dinner, but nothing about having sex again. I told him to wait until the weekend and now that it's here, I don't exactly know what to do. It's not like I can go knock on his door and present myself to him. I don't want to remind him that he offered, that's more desperate than what I'm already considering.

So, here I sit like a teenager hoping he'll come outside, see me, and remember what he offered me.

I groan and drop my head back. This is about as desperate as it gets.

However, I'm so horny. I've never been this horny in my life.

I lift my head slowly and an idea begins to take shape. This doesn't need to be some desperate plea to handle my out of control hormones. This can be a business deal.

We're both successful and understand the terms and agreements of a contract. Maybe the best way to handle this is to deal with it like a business.

Happy with my idea, I go inside and grab a pad of paper and a pen. I jot down my thoughts and smile. This will make everything so much easier.

I go upstairs and fix my hair and makeup. Shepherd said he was willing to help me with anything I need, so going to his house to discuss my idea is just responsible.

Responsible recycling.

After I grab my pad of paper, I control my nerves and head over to his house. It's strange because normally I'm coming here to yell at him for something, but this time is completely different.

I knock on the door and chew my bottom lip as a wave of fresh nerves wash over me. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe I should just wait for him to knock on my door or let himself in. I need to get those locks changed.

The door opens, surprising me because I'm lost in my thoughts.

"Felicity, is everything all right?" Shepherd asks, pushing the screen door open wide as his eyes run over my body.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"What's wrong? Do you need something?"

I can't help the giggle that slips out of me at his question. His brow dips and I clear my throat to try and compose myself. "Sorry, umm." I glance down at my feet for a moment, trying to figure out how exactly to start. I should've planned this better.

"You're making me nervous. Just tell me," Shepherd says.

I lift my eyes to his and hold out my notepad. "I made some notes about your offer."

He lifts his lips slightly and steps aside. "I'm intrigued, come in."

I step into his house and I'm impressed. It's not at all what I pictured it to look like. It's welcoming with a cozy, lived-in feel. A comfortable, slightly worn gray couch with a mix of throw pillows sits in front of a coffee table cluttered with magazines and of course coffee mugs. He has a beautiful brick fireplace that stands proud with a large TV mounted above it. There's a large black microfiber chair that sits next to the fireplace. It looks incredibly comfortable and big enough for two people to enjoy. It's perfect for snuggling up by a roaring fire.

It's an open layout so I glance into the kitchen. There's a small table off to the side, similar to mine, but his kitchen has a beautiful center island that I'm immediately jealous of. There's open shelving with his coffee mugs displayed. The wood cabinets give a warm feel to the white counters.

It's a beautiful home and I feel comfortable as I sit down next to him on the couch. I look over at the shelves that are on either side of the fireplace and notice some photos.

"It's beautiful in here, Shepherd. Not at all what I pictured," I admit.

"What did you think it looked like?"

I smirk, glancing at the pictures again. "Tell me about those pictures." They are obviously important to him to have them displayed so proudly.

He leans back, resting his arms on the couch behind us. "I'll tell you all about them, after you tell me what you thought my house would look like."

I roll my eyes and hold my notepad closer to my chest. "I thought it would feel cold and sterile, but I was wrong."

He doesn't say anything, just gives me a slight nod before looking over at the pictures. "That one on top is my family. That was taken last Thanksgiving. And that picture is of my brothers and myself outside our brewery the day we opened. And that picture," he points, laughing.

"What's going on there?" I ask, smiling.

It's a picture of him, his brothers, and his friends all crammed together to fit in the photo. They are all making ridiculous faces but you can see they were all laughing. It shows me a side of Shepherd I've never seen. A carefree, fun-loving, guy.

"That picture was taken a week after we opened the brewery. We celebrated," he says, smiling at the memory.

"Looks like a good time."

He nods, focusing his attention back on me. "It was." He reaches over and rests his hand on my knee and I feel like I could melt into a puddle. "What did you want to discuss?"

Suddenly I remember I'm not here to get a glimpse into his life. I'm here to talk about responsible recycling.

I pull my notepad away from my chest and chew my bottom lip again. "So, I was giving thought to your offer and I think we need to discuss some things."

His eyes twinkle with mischief as he moves closer. "I don't need a list of what you like, Felicity. I'll discover them the fun way."

My head spins with thoughts of exactly how he'll discover them, but I close my eyes and sigh. "No." I snap my eyes open and lock my eyes with his. "This isn't about feelings, this is about you helping me get relief when I desperately need it. In order for that to happen, we need to remember this isn't about feelings and a connection."

His demeanor changes and the grumpy face I'm used to appears. "Rules? You want sex rules?"

I nod. "Yes, exactly. No kissing, no eye contact, and no oral play. This is more of a get-in and get-out type of thing."

"That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard," he says, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"This isn't about romance, Shepherd. You said yourself, meaningless sex like the first time."

Honestly, it hurts saying it as much as it hurt hearing it. I thought it meant something, but I was wrong. This is why I need these rules. I was fooled once into believing being with him could be more, I need to protect my heart from that happening again.

"Yeah, fine. I said I'd help you and if you need these rules in place for that to happen, whatever."

"Great," I say, standing up. "So, I guess I'll see you around."

He grabs my hand, stopping me as he stands from the couch. The way his eyes darken as he stares at me has my body burning with need.

"Let's not be coy here, Felicity. You didn't just come over to go over the rules. You came over because you're horny." He steps close to me, causing my heart to hammer in my chest. "Let me help you."

My body is not my own and I have no control over the way it reacts to Shepherd. I move closer and he wraps his arms around my waist. I swallow down the nerves and wrap my arms around his neck as I search his eyes.

"Help me, Shepherd," I whisper.

His eyes turn feral as he reaches down and pulls my shirt over my head. Next to go are my jeans and I'm standing before him in just my bra and panties. He takes his time letting his eyes take in every part of me and it feels too intimate.

I grab his chin and force his eyes on mine. "Hey, too intimate. Get your clothes off and bend me over the couch."

He smirks and that mischief is back on his face as he steps out of my hold. He quickly pulls off his shirt and I suck in a breath. It's not that I forgot what his incredible body looked like, I've fantasized about it a million times, but seeing it again, has my panties wet. He keeps his eyes on what he's doing and I appreciate him for following my rules. Especially because right now I'm not. I'm taking in his body even more than he was taking in mine.

When he steps out of his jeans and I see his hard cock pressing against his boxers I have to suppress a moan. I need this so badly.

"Get your bra and panties off," he demands in a deep voice.

I don't argue and as I take off mine, he steps out of his boxers. I step closer and run my hands on his solid chest and he pulls me against him.

I glance up, breathing heavily. "Please, Shepherd, help me," I beg, feeling more needy than I ever have.

He reaches down and runs his fingers through my wetness as he gently bites on my neck. "You're so wet. That's fucking hot." Between his sexy voice and solid body pressed against me, I could explode. A moan escapes and he growls biting down on my shoulder. "You want me to fuck you while you're bent over the couch?" he asks, turning me and pushing on my upper back. I grab onto the back of the couch and he positions himself behind me. "Oh, fuck, wait, I need a condom."

"No, don't go. I'm already pregnant and I'm clean, I swear," I say, surprising myself.

He grabs my hair and leans over my body, kissing my shoulder. "I'm clean too." He kisses a path from my shoulder to my ear and he nips it. "Is kissing your body allowed?" he whispers.

My body is a burning inferno and when he says things like that, it's overwhelming. "Yes, God, yes. Please, Shepherd."

I never beg. I'm not that kind of girl. I don't beg for anything in life, especially sex. But if he doesn't push inside me soon, I'm going to scream.

"Whatever you want, Felicity," he says, slamming into me.

"Yes," I shout out.

"Fuck."

He doesn't move at first and just as I'm about to protest, he starts moving. Slowly. Agonizingly slow. His hands slide down my body and grab onto my hips and I moan, loving how his hands feel against me.

"Faster, Shepherd," I groan.

He doesn't just pick up his speed, he drives into me hard and fast. Relentlessly fucking me exactly how I need it. It's everything I've been craving and my body is rejoicing.

"Yes, fuck," I shout.

"You feel so fucking good. So tight and wet. It feels so good how you're squeezing my dick," he hisses.

"God, your filthy mouth is hot."

He continues ramming into me and I never want it to end. His fingers dig into my hips and I push back against him, causing us both to moan.

"That's right, move your sexy body. Take my dick deep inside you just how you need it."

Fuck, I'm not going to last. It's been so long and I've been so wound up that I can't make it last. He's doing everything just right and it's going to make me explode.

"I'm close already," I cry out.

"Good girl, don't fight it. I want to feel you come on my cock. Give me your orgasm, Felicity," he groans.

My body is shaking and his words just push me over the edge. "Yes, oh God," I scream as my orgasm crashes around me.

"Fuck yes," he whispers behind me, his voice throaty and threadbare.

He continues fucking me, chasing his own release which just makes mine carry on.

"Oh fuck, Felicity," he moans when he finds his own orgasm.

We both collapse on the couch and he pulls me against him as we both breathe heavily. He tightens his hold against me as I rest my cheek on his chest. He kisses the top of my head and my eyes close. I haven't felt this relaxed in months. My body is like jelly and it feels wonderful.

"Did that help?" he asks.

I giggle and nod against his solid chest. "More than you can imagine."

"Come to Sunday dinner with me tomorrow at my parent's house."

I lift my head and search his soft eyes. "What? That sounds like a relationship thing."

It's sweet, but couples do Sunday family dinners. We aren't a couple, even if it looks differently right now. He's made his intentions clear.

"I want you to be there when I tell my parents. You should be there. I want you there," he rushes out.

Maybe it's the euphoric bliss I'm feeling, but his plea tugs at my heart, and I find myself saying something I never thought I would.

"Okay, Shepherd. I'll have dinner with your family."