He groans, breath hot on my neck. “You’re killing me.”
“Spank me.”
His throat vibrates with a low growl. Then he’s biting my ear, trailing kisses down my neck, and then his hand finds my ass, hard at the same time he thrusts deeper into me. The combination of his hard thrusts and crisp smacks sends me spiraling. I clamp my teeth together, rocking against him in time with every blow, every thrust.
“Travis,” I cry out, as one of his hands curls into my hair, jerking my head back.
It’s so fucking hot.
He’s fucking me so damn hard.
“Come for me,” he orders.
I melt around him, screaming ecstasy, tearing at the tension until I fall into my first orgasm. He keeps pounding, harder, faster, driving me toward a second peak, and I come undone again—hoarse, insatiable. He follows close behind me with a ragged growl as his body shudders. I can feel his cock pulsing inside me, and my entire body trembles.
Eventually, he pulls out and spins me around, lifting me up and walking back to the bedroom. He drops me on the bed, wrapping me in a towel before falling beside me, elbow under his head as he lies on his side, staring at me. I bite my lip, reaching out and running my finger over one of the many tattoos on his body.
“What’s the story behind these?” I whisper.
He shrugs. “Just ink.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Trav.”
He grins. “I’ve always wanted to learn the violin.”
I press my lips together, suspecting a joke. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s one of the most beautiful sounds there is.”
“I think you should do it then.”
We go silent for a while. “Did you think of me when you were away?”
His eyes lock on mine. “Every damn minute.”
“Why?”
He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “Because you, Mischief, are my entire fucking heart.”
“I am?” I breathe.
“Fuck yeah. I knew it since we were kids, especially that day we made up songs in the rain, singing at the top of our lungs. But I always knew I couldn’t have you.”
I close my eyes, drifting back to that soaked afternoon. The rain fell in sheets, drumming on the grass as we lay side by side, giggling until the world blurred. I remember noticing him then—his strong arms, the way he smelled of motor oil and earth after a storm. He was too old for me, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t noticed how perfect he was.
“But when I was seventeen,” I whisper, “you let me kiss you.”
He nods. “Yeah, and it fuckin’ destroyed me for every other girl out there.”
I can taste the memory on my tongue: his lips warm, soft, the gentle pull of his tongue against mine. He tasted like freedom and beer and every secret I’d ever kept.
“Do you remember it?” I ask.
“Fuck yeah, I’ll never forget.”
Neither will I.
Every single moment with Travis Phoenix will be forever etched into my memory.