[18+]
College student Hadley Bell is eager to return home for the holidays, but there's a problem. Her ex-no. 44 Nick Baker, Professional Snocross Racer and member of the Bell Race Team, still resides under her parent's roof.
Tensions run high, and...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Baker's kiss was pleading after a bit of foreplay I was eager to engage in.
I missed him. And what he said, everything he'd done with his mother's money, his hopes and dreams for the future...
The backs of his knees nudged the bed, but before I could shove him on his back, he lifted my shirt, peeling it from my flesh with expert precision.
He'd changed. He'd grown so much in the last few months I'd hardly recognized him. Not physically obviously, he was still just as hot as I remembered, but he was different.
He'd built a home—had structured solid foundations for success. Drinking was a problem, but he'd managed to adapt. To strengthen the relationships around him to ensure he wouldn't collapse and learned new coping methods that he was comfortable with.
Baker had become the man I always knew he could be, and he'd done it for us.
Our kiss broke only for a moment before he cupped my jaw and devoured me once again.
I couldn't wait. Not with the growing throb between my legs. The pooling sensation of want nearly breaking me in two.
I needed him, which I made very clear when I tore the shirt from his chiselled torso and discarded it on the floor. Then straddled him when he'd finally fallen onto the navy blue comforter.
I ground against him—my tight-ass skirt bunching above the curve of my hips.
I needed it gone. I wanted nothing between Baker and me. I wanted to move on. To tear through time and burn everything that drove us apart. I wanted to start anew. To go back to the way things used to be. And I needed it done—now.
His calloused hands scraped the smooth skin of my thighs—my hips—as he followed my lead with a few slight thrusts that drove me to madness.
He relished in it—his internal hunger fueling my fire as it always had. And as always, he allowed me to set the bar. To take my time if I wished.
His fingers casually slipped beneath my tights; then under the string of the black lace thong I'd stepped into earlier before he cupped my ass with a full palm.
A moan escaped my slightly parted lips as he squeezed. One he enjoyed if his smile said anything.
God, I wanted Baker. So bad I hadn't given him time to remove his pants.
It didn't take him long to notice.
He crunched up—not breaking from our kiss till I was sitting straddled between him.
My hips continued. My body curving into Baker as my unbound hair cascaded down the curve of my spine and tickled the dimples on my low back.
There was nothing between us but burning flesh. Nothing but the tights. The skirt. The pants.
