Page 50 of Crossing Arizona

But he feels so fucking good, and I missed him so fucking bad.

Burying my face in his hair, I continue to grind on him almost reflexively, gritting my teeth to keep quiet. His breath catches, fingers tightening on my arms, and the fact that he’s awake right now but not pushing me away makes this so much worse.

Or so much better.

My mind can’t function; all thoughts focused on the way he moves with me, the both of us writhing together while Salem snores softly, unaware.

Wrong. All wrong, and that’s exactly why my orgasm creeps up so quickly. It’s been thirteen months since I’ve held him like this, felt his presence so close to mine. Such a long year spent getting friendly with my own right hand that I’m coming before I can stop myself.

Releasing a low moan, I tighten my hold on him as he tenses in my arms, and I know from the whine in the back of Xed’s throat that he’s coming, too. Following me over the edge just like he’s always done.

Hot cum floods my underwear, soaking my lower stomach as I continue to press myself against him, breathing heavily into his hair. He relaxes in my arms, burying his face in my chest, and for a moment, we hold each other tightly as we ride the waves of orgasmic bliss.

But, like always, it doesn’t take long before the guilt crashes into me like a bucket of ice.

Fuck, I’m getting married tomorrow. This was…I shouldn’t have done this. I could lose everything.

I did lose everything.

But I’ve still got Hannah. I’ll always have her, even if keeping her means losing this.

Losing him.

But I promised that I’d always put my daughter before anyone else—even myself.

So, with that thought in mind, I give my best friend one last squeeze. I press my lips to the shaved part of his scalp, savoring the way his hold on me tightens. One last cant of my hips, re-mapping every curve of his body to memory.

And then I let him go.

Chapter twenty-two

The scorching Arizona sun glints off the lake as I rest with my palms on the dock, watching Matty make a fool of himself wakeboarding in the water. Taylor’s beside him, both of them being tugged by the boat Christian’s driving—a Father’s Day gift from Matty to his dad, apparently.

Asshole bought his parents a whole retirement home and a goddamn boat. What must that be like? To never worry about finances, to be so set that you buy shit just because?

At least Hannah will never want for anything. That’s the only thought getting me through this day.

Wakeboarding hadn’t been my first idea, especially with the wedding less than twenty-four hours away, but Taylor and Christian begged everyone until we all agreed.

Well, most of us, anyway. Valerie and her friends are who gives a fuck where, Matty’s parents stayed behind to watch Hannah, and Salem’s sulking in a bar with Jenna and Arya. I feel bad for her, honestly, but not even Taylor could cheer up the mood she’s in. Whatever’s happening between her and Logan must really be hitting hard.

I get it. Sober is the last thing I want to be right now, but I don’t have a choice.

The sharp bark of Christian’s laughter draws my attention as Matty nearly faceplants into the water. It should make me smile, but it doesn’t. Nothing does these days. I just sit there, watching, as Matty plasters that crooked grin on his face.

God, I wish I could hate him. It’d make all of this so much easier.

“Matty’s gonna eat shit,” Huckslee snickers, laughing as the man himself nearly tips sideways into the lake.

“Of course, he is.”

Taylor’s a natural, riding each wave effortlessly, making Huck’s dark eyes shine with pride as he tells us some story about teaching his boyfriend to surf. But I don’t really listen, all of my attention on Matty.

He’s holding onto the tow rope, yelling something to Taylor I can’t hear over the hum of the boat engine. His thick legs wobble as he tries to steady himself on the wakeboard, completely uncoordinated, like a baby gazelle.

He looks fucking ridiculous. A full-grown man about to belly-flop into the water, and yet my chest still tightens painfully just watching him. Missing him.

Trying to forget about the way I’d woken up this morning as he pressed his hard cock against me. Trying to forget about the sound he made when he came, a noise I’ve dreamt about over the last year. How he trembled in my arms as my own release slammed into me.