Page 120 of The Score We Never Settled

It’s a variety of emotions, unspoken desires, and a full-body experience. Because my brain can not keep up with the functions that keep me alive.

His mouth mixed with the way he’s stretching me out has me recording this moment in my head to replay for later.

Because I’mdefinitelynot going to be forgetting this any time soon, and I most willingly will drive him insane with lust just to get him back here as quickly as possible.

Briggs drags my lower lip down with his thumb, biting down on it softly before he does this thing with his next thrust that has me immediately crashing downward into a spiral of pleasure.

He doesn’t stop, not for a second, as I ride out of my orgasm and he pumps into me over and over again just to keep it going.

When I’m finally able to stop, I try to catch my breath, but Briggs is still making out with me like he can’t bear to cease or leave me alone.

His fingers are still on my now sensitive clit, working me to obtain his own release, but I can feel him grow harder inside me, and when I push back on him, he shudders and groans.

His harsh exhales brush across my lips as he goes back to kiss me again, hurling through his own climax, and I give back what he’s giving, wanting him to experience everything I just did with mine.

Perfect.

Euphoric.

Definitely doing again.

After about a minute, Briggs pulls out of me and wipes me off with something soft. When he pulls it back, it’s a red handkerchief, and the move isn’t lost on me.

Not only was it sweet, but I have this feeling he’s going to be keeping that for later because he’s a behind-the-doors freak like that.

Adjusting my sweatpants to wrap back around my waist, Briggs does the same with his jeans as he gingerly turns me around to face him.

He places one more kiss on my lips before muttering, “I need you to go. I love you. I’ll call you when I land, okay?”

My brain and heart agree that it hates this at the same exact time.

My stomach, which just had the most amazing feeling, drops and twists uncomfortably to the formidable reality.

I hate this.

But this is what we have right now.

And I don’t want to make this harder for him by arguing or making him stay so he misses his flight. He needs me to be strong, and he deserves that.

“Don’t forget,” I whisper, kissing the corner of his lips, which has him chasing me for a real one.

He devours me for another minute, taking his time as he squeezes my hip, but then he pulls back and puts a bit of space between us.

Reaching for my car door, he opens it and forces me around it to get inside.

For a split second, I want to hug him and keep him present for a few seconds longer, but again, that’s being selfish.

I’ll hold things down here while he clutches that playoff spot.

“Drive safe, Short Stop. Text me when you’re home.”

I bob my head because I don’t trust the next words out of my mouth not to be desperate.

Softly, he closes the door, and I force myself to start my car, but not without pressing my palm against my window in another silent goodbye.

Briggs mocks my actions, pressing his hand against it for several seconds before dropping it and taking a step back.

Throwing my car into reverse, I maneuver it so I can get out of the driveway more easily.