Songs for Cricket by Laine, E. (best books to read in your 20s TXT) 📗

“She’s like gold to me, precious and valuable. More, she has a heart of gold, and it creates a fire within me every time I look at her.”

If possible, all oxygen had fled my lungs.

“Who is she?” I asked.

I hated asking again after telling him he didn’t have to confess it. But the words were off my tongue before I could quiet them.

That was when I spotted the flames in his eyes. They were hungry and ready to consume me.

“You.” That one word came out a mere whisper.

“Me?”

Though I’d asked the question, my brain was already on autopilot. I closed his door and fed the flames by eliminating the distance between us.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you the other night.”

I’d waited for that moment for so long, I didn’t waste time. I crawled on his lap and straddled him. He didn’t stop me. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

Our noses touched when his forehead connected with mine. I sank like the Titanic into the blues of his eyes, utterly lost in their depths. He wound his strong arms tightly around me, and it felt so completely right.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same,” he said.

The last thing I said before crushing my lips to his was, “You stupid boy. It’s only been you and only you, always.”

Shep may not have been my first kiss. But as his soft lips urged mine a little wider so he could introduce his tongue to mine, I wanted him to be my last.

A whistle of air escaped me as his fingertips found the hem of my shirt and brushed against my bare skin. My palms found the sliver of space between us and slid up to his shoulders as he unleashed the hunger within me.

“Shit,” he hissed as we took a breath.

I combed my fingers over his scalp and grabbed onto a fistful of his thick mane of hair.

“More,” I said and leaned forward until he fell back on the bed.

A need so consuming overwhelmed me when his hands finally traveled north, creating a heat that burned every inch of my back. His hand skimmed up and stopped at the base of my sports bra.

There was an unspoken question that halted our frantic desire for one another. Reluctantly, I pulled back to sit up. I crossed my hands to grab the bottom of my shirt, prepared to remove it until he stopped me.

“Wait.”

All my boldness dissolved in the hesitant way he spoke. Self-consciousness, or the lack thereof, filled the silence created by his one word.

I let my hands fall away and moved to unstraddle him.

“No, it’s not that,” he said, stilling me with a firm grip to my hips. “I want you.”

“I want this too,” I admitted.

His gaze never wavered from mine. “I don’t want our first time together to be on a day like this.”

I understood where he was coming from, but I had a different view.

“I see it as a way to create a different memory than the ugly one she tried to make.”

I bent forward and took his mouth, slowly caressing my tongue across his. I ground my hips, connecting with the evidence of his attraction to me.

When his hands tightened on my waist, I got my nerve back. I sat up again and whipped my shirt over my head. Because I’d been dressed for practice, my sports bra wasn’t exactly the sexiest thing I could be wearing.

“I—”

“Jesus, Finley, you’re gorgeous.”

I wanted to believe him, and though I trusted him, my self-esteem had never been high when it came to my body.

“I know my boobs aren’t the biggest . . .” They probably rivaled as the smallest.

He shook his head and leaned up on his arms, releasing his hold on me. “They’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Then he shifted me, so he was sitting again with us face-to-face.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

I nodded and ghosted my lips over his. “Besides, when will we ever have the house to ourselves with no one here?”

He licked his lower lip, and I took advantage, nipping and then full on kissing him again.

His voice was hoarse when he said, “I want to see you.”

I moved off of him, getting to my feet.

“I want to see you, too,” I said, feeling a sly grin widen on my face.

He stood and reached behind him, and I watched as his shirt skirted up, revealing acres of well-defined muscles until over his head it went.

His eyes traced over me, and I felt the lick of heat down to my toes.

“Show me,” he said.

An unexpected flushed crept over me. Suddenly nervous, I said, “Turn around.”

He didn’t hesitate, just did as I asked, giving me a spectacular view of his shorts-covered ass.

“We’ll turn together,” I directed.

“Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.”

I heard fabric hit the floor and hurried to take off the bra and shove my shorts down.

“Okay.”

Our eyes connected first, holding there. Oh how I loved this man with all of me.

My gaze finally dipped and hung on that part of him I’d been thinking about since I felt it long and hard against me.

I had no frame of reference, really, to judge the size. I’d only seen pictures of one and remembered hearing a girl complain that four inches wasn’t enough. Although I didn’t have a ruler, Shep far surpassed that.

“God, you’re cute.”

Hearing his voice, my eyes jerked back to his, but I immediately dropped them back down as I watched it grow and begin to levitate as if to point accusingly at me. Though I couldn’t say with certainty he was huge, what I did know was that his dick was far bigger than my finger. The few times I’d pleasured myself, one alone had been a tight fit.

“I’m not sure—” I admitted.

He stepped forward, tipping my chin up with one finger, kissing away anything I might have said.

“I’m sure,” he said. “And no more talking.”

My fears of the pain that everyone had spoken of heightened at the sight of