Free Fighting Faith by Brandie Buckwine Page A

knee, Eric spread her legs wide, running his hands down her thighs. Her sensitized skin ignited with his touch, every cell he brushed, sending a searing message of need to her brain. His probing thumbs ran along her lips, pulling them apart in the slow passing, the gradual journey up her torso. Why is he going so slow? Doesn’t he know I’m on fire?
    He came to rest on his elbows, touching her breasts now, pushing them into peaked domes atop her chest. His gazed locked her eyes as his tongue circled a nipple before pulling it between his lips. Charged jolts shot through her core as he teased the bud, shortly abandoning it to lick down the steep decline of her breast his clutch created, and up to the other nipple, repeating the game until both stood erect, pointing at the ceiling, awaiting his next move. He blew the wet soldier and Faith released the air from her lungs. Gasping and panting, she begged him, “Please.”
    He gave her one last lick before positioning himself between her legs. One hand slid under her ass to raise her hips. Her fingers found his erection and guided it to her, one of them escorting him inside at the top of her opening.
    “Oh fuck, Faith,” he breathed as his length slid beyond the reach of her finger. She pressed the tip against her g-spot, so that with every thrust of his penis, it pressed hard against the sensitive tissue. It swelled beneath her finger as Eric sucked the flesh on her neck between his lips sliding up and down her vein, sucking, licking, kissing, nipping at her ear. She removed her finger and grabbed his ass, feeling his muscles flex, and pulling him to her as he slammed away. Her legs joined in the assault, locking around him and forcing him deeper, harder, faster.
    Faith pulled his head to hers, their foreheads butting against one another, noses touching, eyes locked, stealing each other’s breath— straining to and away from each other until it hit.
    Together they crested, their cries joining into one melodic ballad of rapture as Faith arched her body into his, encasing him in her arms for the first time. Sweat drenched them, and when Eric fell onto her in exhaustion, his body slipped through her arms, away to the side. He followed the momentum until he lay next to her on his back. Neither spoke, both panting to catch their breath.
    After a time, Eric shook his head. “Oh. Fuck. Me.”

    “I think I just did ,” Faith giggled and let her arm fall across his chest.
    He grinned to the ceiling, and then turned to face her, his expression more serious. “I’m not staying the night.”
    Rolling away, she smiled and said, “You weren’t invited.”

Chapter Eight
    Squinting against the setting sun, Eric pulled his car onto the busy city thoroughfare. His passenger lit a cigarette, and asked, “So, explain to me why we can’t go out?”
    “Van, don’t smoke in my car.” He rolled the window down, expecting Van to toss it.
    “I’ll hold it out the window,” he said, stretching his arm as far outside as he could. When Eric scowled in reply, he said, “Come on. I couldn’t smoke on the plane, and I expected to have at least a few minutes in the parking lot. I didn’t think you’d be waiting for me right outside the damn terminal.” He pulled his arm inside, took a deep drag, and stuck his arm back out the window, followed by his head and upper torso. “See? You won’t even notice.” Eric grabbed him by the pants and pulled him back inside. “I see you’re still a lunatic.
    Glad to see the city didn’t steal that away from you.”
    “Never! Anyway, where the hell are we going?”
    “We’re going to the videographer’s house to watch some of the footage she’s put together from the last few months.” He readjusted the visor, as though pulling on it would make it longer and block the low-lying sun. “Trust me— if I could get out of it, I would. Going out on the town with you is much more appealing than going to her house.”
    “I take it you don’t