Chapter 18

I couldn't breathe.

I wasn't sure if I was holding my breath or if all the oxygen in the room had magically evaporated.

My head was filled with strange, if not unpleasant thoughts.

A sandwich.

My lungs burned and my heart felt funny because of a sandwich.

That was a lie.

My lungs burned because Easton had stolen my breath.

Don't do that.

Do what?

Give me something then take it away.

What'd I give you?

You, Nebraska. You keep giving me bits and pieces of you then you take them away.

My heart felt funny because I couldn't remember ever feeling…this. I couldn't find the right words to describe what this was. Mostly because I'd never felt something so contradictory—cared for but unloved.

It was too much. I didn't know what to do with it all. The emotions too big, too scary, too intense. I wanted to run away while simultaneously throwing myself at Easton.

My thoughts were all over the place.

Scattered. Jumbled. Messy.

I didn't know how to fix this. I'd been taught from a very young age how to prioritize my thoughts. Arrange them in logical steps. According to Charlie, order was paramount.

But how was I supposed to organize thoughts that were flitting in and out of my mind—one flew in and darted out, and on its heels another flashed in.

My life no longer made sense.

My emotions were up and down.

My mind all over the place.

One thing was for certain; prolonged exposure to Easton Spears was bad for my mental health.

I felt a hand cup my cheek.

Calloused. Work-rough. Hard.

At the feel of it my eyes shot open.

And there he was, up close and in my personal space. His blue eyes, shades darker than mine, zeroed in then locked onto mine.

It wasn't the sandwich, it was what it represented. It was what his eyes were right then confirming.

Care.

Concern.

Thoughtfulness.

"Hey," he whispered.

I opened my mouth, but when no words formed I clamped it closed, my teeth catching on my bottom lip. His gaze dropped but only for a moment and when I got his eyes back I could only define them as stormy.

Yikes.

A minute. Five. An hour. I don't know how long we stared at each other. I don't know why or how it happened, only that it was me who pounced.

Suddenly my lips were on his and I was kissing him.

Easton went stiff.

His hand convulsed on my cheek.

Just as mortification started to set in, his palm slid into my hair, his fingers tangled in my damp strands, his other hand went around my waist, and he kissed me.

There was a distinction.

My kiss had been clumsy.

His was anything but clumsy.

It was deliciously demanding.

So delicious I lost what was left of my mind. No thoughts could possibly penetrate. All I could do was feel—the way his tongue demanded entry, (which I gladly gave) the way his hand held me exactly where he wanted me, (which, I happily stayed) but mostly I felt his hard body pressed against mine (which I seriously liked).

It didn't take long for this kiss to turn. That turn was for the better because it now included Easton's hand on my ass not only squeezing but pulling me closer, which had the glorious side effect of pressing his erection into my belly. I remembered I had hands and so I put those hands to good use. One snaked around back and roamed, the other went to his chest and explored.

And that was all it took.

I needed more.

Unfortunately I didn't know how to communicate this. A frustrated groan slipped free when I couldn't maneuver my hand down the back of pants (stupid belt). Thankfully that was all Easton needed. His hand left my hair and went between us. I felt him working there, then I heard the belt slide through the loops of his cargos. A moment later my hand slid in and I made the wonderful discovery he went commando. The belt move was hot and as much as I would've liked to have watched, I was more than happy to sacrifice the sight to keep his mouth on mine.

I had approximately three seconds to revel in the perfectness of his muscled ass—though in fairness, time meant nothing so I might've had more—when he broke the kiss.

No.

My eyes popped open, and the second they did my pussy spasmed.

Never, ever, ever had a man looked at me the way Easton did. Never, ever, ever had I seen desperation and desire swirl together into a cocktail of need.

Easton was the most beautiful man I'd ever clapped eyes on. When he was being annoying he was hot (that didn't bode well for me). When he was angry he was hotter (sucks, but that's the truth). But right then, looking at me the way he was after that kiss, the hotness factor ratcheted up straight to stratospheric.

This time I didn't pounce, I attacked.

My hands went to his shirt. I tugged it out of his cargos and yanked it up. Thankfully he helped in this endeavor, pulling it the rest of the way off and tossing it to the side. My shirt was next. He divested me of it, and as soon as it cleared my arms I went at him. My arms went around his shoulders, and when I found purchase, I hoisted myself up. My legs circled his hips and my lips found his.

If the first kiss was demanding and measured, this one was wild. Clearly whatever control Easton had left snapped. With his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my ass, the tips of his fingers gliding over the gusset of my panties, I'd gone back to mindless. I was so into our kiss I whimpered when his mouth left mine.

Then I was whimpering for an altogether different reason when he lifted me higher, dipped his chin, and pulled my nipple between his lips.

"Easton," I groaned.

He released it, moved to the other side, and sucked deep.

I arched back, giving him more room and groaned again, this time with my hands fisting his hair.

I had no choice but to let go when my back hit the bed and he reared up. From his knees, he listed back again, and was on his feet at the side of the bed, staring down at me. I was uncertain about this. Then when his hands went to the button of his pants I wasn't uncertain anymore.

I was elated.

My hands went to my undies. I hooked my thumbs under the lace, but got no further.

"Stop."

At his command, I stopped.

His eyes roamed my bare breasts, my stomach, down to the sheer pink lace covering my sex. He did all of this while unbuttoning and unzipping.

I realized then, the issue with being mindless also meant you were mesmerized. And as such you were so into feeling you forgot your other senses. Thankfully part of my brain kicked in just as he pulled his pants over his hips and his dick sprang free. I was equally grateful I didn't miss the perfection that was Easton Spears naked. Not that I had a lot of time to take in his boxed abs, or the light dusting of light brown hair highlighting his pecs, or his beautiful shoulders, or thick thighs before he leaned forward and tore my panties down my legs.

"Been waitin' to do that." I wasn't sure if he meant to say that or if he too was mindless because he didn't look at me when he said it. He'd watched my panties skim down my legs. He also didn't look up at me when he dropped to his knees, used my calves to yank me down the length of the bed until my thighs were propped on his shoulders, and especially not when his head disappeared between my legs.

"Oh my god," was what I'd said but only because I didn't have it in me to shout hallelujah.

I'd had one man, many, many years ago go down on me. So many years ago I had very little recollection of the event. Not that it was an event as such; it was more of a minor incident, hence why I barely remembered it. But one thing I was absolutely sure of was it was nothing like what Easton was doing.

He went down on me.

I'd never been eaten and that was exactly what Easton was doing. He ate, and licked, and sucked my clit, and ate some more. His head shook between my legs as they trembled. He tongue-fucked me until I was my breath was hitching more than I was sucking in air.

I was so close to climax I was having an out-of-body experience.

I was right there…

Then his mouth was gone.

"No," I hissed.

Before I could yank his mouth back where I wanted, he came up over me, hooking my leg as he went, then he slammed inside.

My climax hit. My pussy convulsed, my back arched, and pleasure ripped through me. Throughout this my eyes were locked with Easton's. I watched his eyelids flutter like he was the one experiencing the single most powerful orgasm in the history of orgasms.

And he hadn't moved.

He'd filled me full and that was all it had taken.

One thrust.

"Christ," he grunted. I felt his dick twitch inside me and watched another eyelid flutter but this time he looked like he was pained. "Gotta move, baby."

He didn't wait for my reply which was good because I was incapable of speech. Not only hadn't I recovered but his tongue had invaded my mouth. I took his fucking and his kiss—both feral. I finally slid back into consciousness enough to hold on. I lifted my knees high, pressed them tight around his sides while my hands frantically roamed over his back.

He grunted into my mouth, I moaned into his.

My hips surged up.

His drilled down.

Just when I didn't think it could get any better he shifted his weight, moved his hand between us. I felt it glide over my belly, then down farther, and with shocking accuracy his thumb rolled my clit. He added pressure and rolled again.

I had to tear my mouth away so I could cry out as another orgasm powered through me.

Savage. Wild. Out of control.

Take your pick.

It was all of that and more.

It was everything.

The feel of Easton inside me, all of him surrounding me, his pounding thrusts, his labored breaths, the magic he was making between my legs. The sweat coating his back, my skin heated and sensitive.

I was out of my head but fully aware.

Never, ever, ever had I felt so much all at once.

I held on the best I could while he fucked me utterly senseless.

"Unlatch, baby."

I had yet to process Easton's command when he pulled back and pulled out. My legs fell open as he came up on his knees. I glanced down and watched with rabid attention that borderlined fanatical memorization as he stroked his cock.

Holy hell.

That attention became avid when he shot off.

My eyes flew to his face, not wanting to miss his come hitting my belly but wanting the full show. As soon as I lifted my gaze our eyes connected. His were fully engulfed in his pleasure but still focused on me.

If I'd had it together I would've understood what those eyes were saying.

Unfortunately I was too lost in my own euphoria to understand anything beyond knowing that was the best sex I'd ever had.

I knew Easton was done when he fell forward, giving me some of his weight but taking most of it on his elbow. He used his other hand to brush my sweaty hair off my face. I wasn't sure why I was perspiring since he'd done all the work but apparently getting fucked nearly dead took it out of you.

"You okay?" he asked.

The way he asked made me grin. It was an earnest albeit silly question since I was lying under him with his climax on my stomach, my heart still pounding in my chest, and lady parts doing a cha-cha after having two off-the-charts-good orgasms.

So I tried, I really tried, not to laugh.

But I failed miserably.

It also took a while for me to get this under control and only when Easton started to roll to the side did I wrap my legs around him and sober up.

I also learned that multiple orgasms gave you loose lips.

"That was awesome."

Easton blinked.

"The best sex of my life. Not that I've had a lot of sex. I've done it a few times, but…wow. I thought sex was overrated, like it was one of those fishing stories where people exaggerate how big their catch was."

He blinked again.

"Ditto on the going down part. Ho-lee-shit. You're really good at that. Award-winning good. I get it now. Totally."

No blink this time. Just staring.

"And you're a really great kisser. Best kiss I've ever had."

Nothing from Easton.

Okay, damn, I was screwing this all up.

"Yes, Easton, I'm okay. Are you?"

"No."

It was my turn to blink.

"Not even close."

Mortification set in.

I'd pounced and I'd attacked, not giving any consideration if that was what Easton wanted.

"Baby, get that look off your face." He leaned in closer, which forced me to push my head deeper into the mattress to keep some separation. Easton was having no part of that and I knew it when he slid his hand into my hair and fisted. "I think you get I liked everything you gave me, the evidence of that is soaking into your skin. And I use like because if I told you exactly how marking you made me feel, it'd scare the shit out of you. So we'll leave it there for now. I also think you get I was totally into you and everything we were doing, but just in case you missed it I'll confirm."

Well thank God for all of that. But none of it explained why he wasn't okay. I didn't get a chance to ask because Easton wasn't done.

He dipped closer. "I've done it more than a few times, and that, right now wasn't awesome. Wasn't even great. You're fucking gorgeous and if that was all there was of you, straight up that would be enough to get off, but you're a fuckuva lot more than just beautiful. You feel good, you taste good, you've got great tits, you let go and get wild, so with all of that, no way it could be anything less than fucking phenomenal."

Now he looked pissed and I was more confused.

"I don't get it."

"I lost control."

And that was bad?

That was one of my favorite parts. It made me feel sexy and powerful and wanted.

"And?"

"Baby, right now my come is drying on your skin." He paused and shook his head. "Do you get what that means? I fucked you bare, Nebraska."

Oh, shit.

"At this point it's moot but I've never had unprotected sex. We all get checkups every six months. I had one four months ago and haven't had anyone since. I'm safe."

Well, that was very good news even if it was belated, and as he said, moot. The deed was done.

There was silence and it wasn't until his brow lifted that I realized he was waiting for me to share my history.

I drew in a breath, shoved the embarrassment aside, and gave him what he needed.

"It's been six years—"

"Come again?"

My attitude instantly bubbled.

Did he really think I'd lie to him about something important? We were talking STDs here, not WMDs and who was stockpiling what where.

"You don't believe me?" I snapped and gave his chest a shove.

Well, shove was an overstatement. I put pressure on his chest but he didn't budge.

"Get off me," I demanded.

"Six years?"

"You're a dick," I told him and attempted to shove him again, this time giving it my all.

"Baby, you just had my dick and you're gonna have it again in about ten minutes so no need for dirty talk just yet."

I decided to roll my eyes to the ceiling.

"How is it possible for a woman like you to go six years without sex?"

That had my eyes rolling back then narrowing.

"And what kind of woman am I, Easton?"

He didn't answer. He just glared down at me with those stupid blue eyes of his that I wanted nothing more than to get lost in.

Charlie was right; love made you stupid and sex was a weapon.

The sharpest weapon of all. And I'd handed it right over to Easton so he could gut me with it.