Chapter Thirteen
Their first real date was better than the last one, and that had been a damn good one. This time, they’d gone bowling, drank beers, and laughed the whole time. He beat her in one game, and she beat him in the next, and then he’d finished off the final round with several strikes. She didn’t mind losing to him, because she knew she was winning being with him, and she was glad they were all in.
Now, they were at her house. She shut and locked her front door, took his hand, and led him back to her bedroom for the first time.
She turned on the light and watched him as he took in her room. The dark red comforter on her king-size bed, because she liked to sleep splayed out like a starfish, the well-worn books on her nightstand. Then the framed pictures of her and her parents, her sister, and Tennyson. Finally, there was the note card he’d given her, lying on her nightstand.
Another time.
“You kept it,” he remarked, with wonder in his voice.
“I did. Because it was from you. ‘The promise of another time, and that time is now.’” She reached for the bottom of his shirt and tugged it off. She’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, but now, here, in her bedroom, the sight of his naked torso—so muscular and cut—was a heady one.
He kicked off his shoes. She unzipped his jeans and let them fall to the floor. She’d seen him naked before but she didn’t think she’d tire of the sight. Every inch of him, every ounce, was the embodiment of masculine perfection. Strong arms, broad chest, abs she wanted to lick, fabulous legs, and then the pièce de résistance—that perfect cock, long, thick, and hard as a rock for her.
But he was more than just a beautiful body now. More than merely the man she’d lusted after for months, and then slept with on a whim one heady night in a bar. He was the man she’d let into her life, her family, her home. And though they’d had sex several times already, this time felt different.
“I kind of feel like this is our first time,” she said, whispering it like an admission.
“I feel the same,” he said, as he gently stripped off her sweater and unhooked her bra. She shimmied out of her skirt. He stepped back to look at her, taking her in, his eyes roaming every inch of her, and the look in them was heated and full of something more too. The more that she’d once tried to deny. But now wanted to embrace.
He’d spent so much time telling her nice things, sweet things, pretty things, and now she wanted to return his affection. To let him know this had never been a one-way street. She trailed her fingertips down his chest, watching as he hitched in a breath. “You’re beautiful to me,” she said. “All of you.”
His chest rose and fell, and his lips curved up. He closed his eyes briefly as she traced a line from his hip to his butt. “I love the way you touch me,” he said in a hot, hoarse voice, and though she loved his dirty mouth, she loved this part too—the one that was patently honest. “And I need you now.”
She held up her index finger, raced into the bathroom, found a condom packet under the sink, and returned with it.
She pushed him gently onto the bed, then ran her hand over him, and his cock twitched against her as she rolled on the condom. She straddled him and he placed his hands on her hips as she lowered onto him, his eyes closing in pleasure.
…
She felt amazing. So wet, so warm, so tight as she surrounded him. She tensed briefly as she took him all the way in, then exhaled and sank farther down. He held her hips, moving her slowly on him. He wanted to savor the feeling of being inside her like this. The first time after admitting they were something more. He kept his gaze on her as she rode him, her long hair falling against her back, making her look even sexier, if that were possible. He hadn’t thought it was, but now he knew he’d been wrong. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and she was his. The look in her eyes was one of desire, but he saw her vulnerability, too, the way she’d stripped bare her fears, finally letting him in. And he felt even more for her because of that. Because she trusted him, and he was never going to hurt her.
He was only ever going to make her feel good.
He held onto her hips, matching her rhythm, but he needed her body against his completely. “I want to feel you against me as you ride me.”
She leaned closer, her breasts brushing against his chest now, her mouth near his. She moved her hips slowly, up and down, like a tease. Making him groan, making him roll his eyes back in his head.
“Do you like it when I take you slow like this?” She asked, rising up on him, then taking him all the way inside her, and grinding her hips on him.
“I like that you’re a talker. That you give it right back to me.”
“I love giving it back to you,” she said, drawing up her hips, again, then slamming down on him. “Or would you rather I f*ck you hard?” She said, swearing for the first time with him. She gasped at her own use of a dirty word and his eyes widened.
“Oh you know that’s only going to get me going even more,” he said.
She pinned his wrists over his head while pumping her hips against him. “Good. I like getting you going. I like being the only one who can make you feel this way.”
“You are. The only one. Hold me down and press your beautiful body against mine,” he said as she rode him, picking up the pace, building into a frenzy, taking him right there with her, his body becoming an inferno as he watched her move on him. He could barely stand it. He grabbed her ass, then held onto her as he switched positions, staying inside her the whole time as he moved her underneath him.
“Wrap your legs tight around me, and I’m going hold your hands down until you come,” he said, needing to take charge again.
She raised her arms above her head, eagerly inviting him to take over. He held her wrists in one hand as she arched her back.
“Do you want me to make you come soon?”
“I do,” she said in between pants.
“Tell me how much you want me to drive you wild right now.”
“Oh god, Smith. I want you so much,” she said, those eyes dark as she became a wild woman in bed. “Take me so hard I’ll still feel you tomorrow.”
His senses went into overdrive. His body was alive with fire and heat. Every nerve, every muscle, every brain cell was focused on one thing—pleasing her.
“I want you to say my name when you’re coming on me, got that?” he said, as he filled her to the hilt, her breath catching as she gasped. She was getting closer, and he was going to bring her over the edge any second.
“You’re so sexy, it’s killing me,” she said, moaning. “You make me feel so good.”
She spread her legs even wider, wrapping them around his ass.
“You know why I make you feel this way?”
“Because I’m crazy for you,” she said, answering him with words he’d always wanted to hear.
“God, that makes me so happy.”
She held on tight, drawing him as far into her as she could take him, and then looked him in the eyes, her mouth forming a perfect O as she cried out.
“Smith.”
That was it. Just his name. That was all she could manage, and he watched her as she shuddered. Then again, even louder, as he drove into her, his own orgasm coursing through him, following hers. Then he collapsed onto her, burying his face in her hair.
Once was never enough. So they went for seconds, and then thirds sometime in the middle of the night. When morning rolled around, he hopped into her shower, and she joined him, surprising him by kneeling down and taking him in her mouth.
“Best. Shower. Ever,” he declared when she finished, and turned off the water.
As he toweled off, he stopped to check his phone. He scrolled through his messages casually, then seemed to stop and study one. His shoulders tightened. “I have to get going. I’m late. I have another construction job I’m working on over on Meadow Lane.”
She furrowed her brow. “But I thought you were hiring some guys to help. So you don’t have to do everything yourself.”
“I am,” he said, tapping her nose playfully. “But they’re not hired yet, so it’s still on my shoulders. And then it’s my afternoon at the Burn Center so I am a busy boy.”
“I love that you do that,” she said, as she pulled on a long T-shirt, then sat cross-legged on her bed, watching him dress.
“So when will I see you again?” he asked as he zipped up his jeans.
“I’m working this afternoon too. Day shift. What about tomorrow?”
“What about tonight?”
She couldn’t suppress a grin. Nothing would be better than seeing him again so soon now that they were together for real.
“Well, it’s the first night of the festival. Don’t you need to be dunked?”
“Tomorrow night is for dunking. Tonight I am taking my woman to the Spring Festival.”
His woman. She never thought she’d let herself go there. But here she was, and the words—the title—made her feel as if a fleet of hummingbirds had taken flight in her body.
She’d fallen for him. Against her better judgment. Against all her plans to do the opposite. He’d put himself out there many times for her. She wanted to do the same, and wanted it to be more than her apology the other night, more than asking him on a date. She met his gaze, those blazing blue eyes like a clear sky. A spark raced inside her, and this time it was from her heart, not just her body. She looked at him, scared but hopeful because she was going to open her heart no matter what. He’d earned it many times over.
She walked him to the door, her insides knotted as she practiced the words in her head first. He was about to step outside, but she grabbed his arm. “I’m falling for you,” she said, feeling as if she’d just exposed her hiding place to the enemy.
His phone lit up with a message. He glanced at it in his hand, then at her. He pecked her on the forehead then rushed down the steps. “I need to go, darlin.’”
He took off, leaving her on the porch, feeling thoroughly perplexed.