Free For Life by L.E. Chamberlin Page A

like I did before, my fingers rubbing her the way she showed me. Within seconds she’s trembling and panting and arching against my hand. I slip my fingers into her and she’s so wet. Soaked. I bury my face in her neck where I can be surrounded by the scent of her while my fingers explore her heat. It’s fucking heaven.
    “I want to,” she whispers in my ear. “Right now, I want to, Grady.”
    “You want to?” I ask. I’m still not exactly sure what she means. “You want to…?”
    “Do it,” she says in a husky voice that makes me draw back to look at her, surprised. Her eyes are bright as she continues. “Have sex. Make love.” A smile plays on her lips. “Fuck.”
    I really don’t need more encouragement than that. I keep one hand between her thighs and fumble in my jeans, now around my ankles, with the other, but I can’t find what I need. I grope wildly but I can’t find my wallet. Groaning, I roll off Cassie and dive into the front seat bare-assed, desperate to find that wallet and the condom I’ve been saving for this occasion.
    It’s nowhere.
    “No, fuck, please,” I curse. “This can’t be happening.”
    From the back seat comes a giggle and in a soft lilt, “If you’re looking for what I think you’re looking for, I have two in my purse.”
    Two. In her purse. Hol-y shit. She was prepared. My mind reels and this time I let it, grasping blindly until my fingers close around the strap of her purse. I grab it and toss it in the back, probably harder than I should.  Things drop out of it, plunking on the floor mats, and I scramble back to help her pick them up when she pulls a tiny square packet from a little pouch with a triumphant flourish.
    She asks me to show her how to roll it on, so I do, my hand only slightly steadier than hers. But when I position myself over her, the brief vision of how I thought this would happen flashes through my mind, and I feel suddenly guilty. There’s no private hotel room filled with flowers, no romantic dinner beforehand where I get to say all the things I want to say to her. It’s just us in my brother’s car and two hours until curfew.
    “Cass,” I whisper, so close to what I want, what I need that I want to punch myself in the face for what I’m about to ask her, because if she says no I might actually cry. "Are you sure? We can wait.”
    Her knees squeeze my ribs as she kisses me tenderly and whispers, “Yes, I’m positive. I love you, Grady. And I need you. I don’t want to wait.”
    * * * *
     
    Later, after I’ve returned home and returned the keys to Carl, who took one look at me and just grinned his head off, I lie in my room replaying the night in my mind. They say it’s not supposed to be as good for girls as it is for guys, but Cassie didn’t seem to be in too much pain. At some point I stopped worrying about everything and just enjoyed the feeling of her soft body tangled with mine, the sounds she made when I was inside her, the way she kissed me like she never wanted to stop. Which is how I felt. I didn’t want to stop. I already needed her again. After having that taste of heaven, I’d rather die than be without it ever again.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Cassie
     
    Grady's still in love with you. Renée's words echo in my head and I can't do anything but stare at her.
    “That’s ridiculous.” I force something I hope passes for laughter. “No way. Did Donna tell you that? Because I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s been angling for a reconciliation since we split up.”
    Renée shakes her head. “I’ve seen him do it.”
    “Coincidence,” I insist. “That’s not about me. His dad and grandparents are on that wall, and now—” I stop myself, horrified. “Renée, I—”
    “It’s okay,” she says softly. “He’s gone, Cass, I know that. And you’re right, I’m sure Grady will love seeing his brother on that wall even more now that he’s gone. But that’s not what I meant.”
    “Renée, I don’t—” But I don’t get