Travis by Mia Sheridan

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Haven

 

There was no need for preamble. We both knew why he was here in my room. I’d talked myself out of it over and over, until my desire for him was pitched so sky high, my feet had seemingly taken it upon themselves to put the rest of my body out of its misery.

And then to know that he’d been on his way to me, was like the sweetest relief I’d ever known.

I wasn’t going to look too hard at this. I was leaving town soon enough, and he was far from available anyway.

Don’t think.

Don’t think.

Just be here.

With Travis. With this beautiful, layered man who isn’t really your friend, but also can never be more.

He moved in, his fingers weaving through my hair as he took my face in his hands and brought his lips to mine. I reached around his neck and drew him closer and we kissed and tasted each other’s mouths for long, drugging minutes.

When our mouths broke, chests heaving, his gaze was shiny with lust and so much focus it made my pulse jump. Wordlessly, he reached down, lifting the hem of my long T-shirt and I raised my arms, watching his face as he lifted it over my head and dropped it to the floor.

His heated gaze raked my bare breasts and my nipples puckered in response. I felt unexpectedly shy, though he’d already seen me wearing nothing but a small pair of bikini bottoms. And he’d touched me in ways that were even more intimate than this exact moment. And yet, the way he was looking at me was stirring my senses, and making blood whoosh hotly in my ears.

He was staring at me as though he wanted to consume me.

I shivered. “Please,” I said, surprising myself. I didn’t even know what I was asking for.

His expression didn’t change though. Nor did he look at me. Instead, he lowered his head and brought his mouth to one nipple, sucking lightly, knowing exactly what I needed though I had not used the words.

Oh God.

I moaned, a flush of pleasure blooming between my legs as his tongue circled my nipples slowly, erotically. I weaved my fingers through his soft, thick hair, holding his dark head to one breast, and then the other as he drove me wild.

“Travis,” I gasped. My body was already primed. My mind had done that as I’d lain in bed, picturing just this.

He stood straight, removing his T-shirt and then the jeans he was wearing. My eyes drank him in. That beautifully muscled chest I’d admired over the weeks. It looked different now somehow.

Because you’re going to touch it. You’re going to feel it against your bare skin. For now, here in this room, it belongs to you.

Something I could only describe as joy radiated in my chest and I shivered with the cascade of sensation, both external and within, reaching out and circling one finger around the small masculine disc that was his nipple. It tightened beneath my touch and he took in a small, sharp breath.

He was so large and tall and solid and I wanted to touch him everywhere. My hands moved over his shoulders and down his arms, loving the juxtaposition of his hard muscles beneath warm, velvety skin.

There were textures to discover everywhere on his body and I felt greedy to learn them all, to memorize them so they’d always be mine.

My gaze lowered, as did my hand, reaching for his erection, stiff and silken, a tiny drop of moisture leaking from the tip. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked lightly, rewarded by Travis’s ragged moan.

“God, I want you,” he said, his voice thick. “If I told you how much, you would laugh.”

A burst of warmth infused me. “I’m not laughing,” I said. “I want you too.”

He walked me backward the few steps to my bed and lowered me slowly, coming over the top of me. He leaned up, taking a rogue curl between his thumb and index finger, feeling its texture. His lips tipped. “This hair,” he muttered. “This damn hair.”

I’d always felt self-conscious about my hair. I’d always tried to control it but rarely managed the impossible task. As a little girl, I’d wished on stars to make it straight and fine like the Barbie dolls my mom sometimes let me pick out of the toy bin at the thrift store.  

But the way Travis Hale was looking at it in that moment made me whisper a prayer of deep gratitude that those stars had ignored my plea.

He leaned in and kissed me again, his long, hard body covering my own, his chest rubbing against mine, his erection probing my lower stomach. I moved my hips so that I cradled his, wrapping one leg around his thigh and moving it slowly upward in an effort to bring our cores together.

He raised himself by planting one knee on the bed, taking himself in his hand and sliding his erection up my damp slit, once and then again. Our mouths broke, his breath ragged as he touched his forehead to mine, teasing himself and me with long slow glides that were wondrous and blissful and torturous and not nearly enough.

Pleasure took over and things turned dreamy, my brain shutting off completely. I surrendered to the sensation, feeling him everywhere, our kisses going from almost savage in their intensity to slow and deep and languorous. I writhed beneath him, wanting more, more, more, and he broke from my mouth, his breath coming harsh. He said my name as his head dipped lower, stopping at each nipple and sucking gently before moving down, his lips grazing across my ribs and over my belly. “Open for me, Haven,” he said and I did, my legs widening as he flicked his tongue over my swollen clit. I cried out, bucking slightly and he did it again, opening my thighs wider and holding them gently to give himself more access. “God, you taste sweet.”

I said something unintelligible as he lowered his head, circling his tongue and sucking, and then doing it again and again. Oh God, it was wonderful. I whimpered, weaving my fingers through his hair once again, lifting my hips to his hot, talented mouth.

I felt the moan that vibrated in his throat and the orgasm broke over me, even more intense than the one he’d given me with his fingers, bliss crashing in waves as I bucked and gasped, his name tearing from my lips.

He picked up something from the floor. A wallet? A condom. The fog cleared, but only slightly. I thought I heard him mutter, “Thank God,” as he pulled it on, coming over my body again. He made eye contact and there was a question there, his muscles held taught, waiting.

“Yes,” I said, sliding my foot up his leg, welcoming him in.

A long breath flew from his mouth and the look of relief that filled his expression made my heart clench sharply. He lined his cock up at my entrance and pushed inside, guided by the slickness of my very recent climax, and I gasped out at the delicious invasion, my head falling back, fist grabbing a handful of the quilt beneath us.

“God, you feel . . . you feel . . . it’s even better . . .” He didn’t seem able to form a coherent sentence, giving up and ending on a long, ragged breath.

He wrapped his hand around my thigh, pulling my leg higher and sliding in slowly. I felt every inch of him as he withdrew and then filled me again, his muscles straining, the bed creaking softly beneath our movements.

“Haven . . . Haven . . . God.”

He moved slowly, biting his lip and a thrill of pleasure raced through me at the erotic beauty of him moving above me, inside me. The pace accelerated and I watched him, seeing the very moment he gave up the fight for control. I clutched him, wanting to continue watching his face, but feeling another wave of pleasure begin to crest, my muscles tightening until I cried out, bringing both legs around his hips and tilting my pelvis so that he went even deeper, prolonging my orgasm even as his broke and he moaned my name, burying his face in my neck as his hips slowed. Our pants mingled as he pressed inside me one final time.

For a few breathless moments, all was still and then Travis rolled to the side, pulling me toward him as our breathing slowed and our heart rates returned to normal.

I ran a finger idly under his pectoral, spreading my palm over the small patch of scattered hairs in the dip above his stomach.

The curtain lifted from the breeze blowing off the lake, the night outside soft and dreamy with moonlight.

And the world felt somehow both very distant and more beautiful than it’d ever been.

He brought his hand up and placed it over mine, halting my exploration on the small breath of a laugh. “Unless you’re ready for round two, you should probably stop that.” The twitching between his legs proved his words.

I grinned, twisting, and crossing my arms on his chest, propping my chin on my hands so I could look in his eyes. “Sounds like a challenge.”

He chuckled. “And one I’d gladly take on, except I don’t have any more condoms.”

Well, darn.

“We weren’t exactly quiet,” I said, my cheeks flushing as I recalled how many times I’d moaned his name and shouted for God, and likely all His heavenly angels, though some of our recent activity was still a blissful blur.

“Do you think we scandalized the crew?” he asked, one finger twisting in a curl. I moved my eyes to the side, watching it for a moment.

“I don’t know,” I said. “They’re a pretty accepting group.”

“They’d have to be, I guess.”

I breathed out a laugh. “Yes. But do you know what I notice most about them?”

“That they’re usually drunk?”

I laughed again as that finger continued to twist idly. “No. I notice that they all know exactly who they are and they make no apologies for it. We should strive to be like them.”

His eyes met mine, and he seemed to search my face for a moment, something warm and soft coming into his expression. “You’re right.” He looked away, back to that twisting finger now completely ensnared in my curl. “Everyone should strive to be like them,” he murmured softly, but I got the sense he was speaking for himself more so than “everyone.”

I watched him for a moment, my eyes moving slowly over the perfection of his features. He was so classically handsome, those vibrant eyes unusual and mesmerizing. I wondered momentarily if he looked like his mother or his father, and realized it had to be his father since he resembled his half-brother—the one he shared fathers with—so much.

The Hale boys were always wild. Hot as sin, and guaranteed to burn you if you got too close.

Yes, I could see that. Oh how I could see that.

Deep breath. Temporary. Friends.

But the benefits were . . . spectacular. I was still seeing stars and my muscles felt as though they’d morphed into jelly.

“Be careful,” I said, my eyes sliding toward his finger, now hopelessly tangled in my lock of hair. “It’s like one of those Chinese finger traps. The more you struggle, the tighter it gets.”

He laughed. “Then I guess I’m trapped for good.”

And then he rolled me over, his hand moving with my head so he didn’t pull my hair. I laughed, a surprised outburst, right before his lips came down on mine. Right before he proved he was up for a challenge, and there were lots of things you could do without the benefit of a condom.