Emma opened the door to her apartment and felt her jaw drop open at the sight of Brant standing on her doorstep looking like the man she had fallen for in Florida. Gone were his work clothes and in their place were the cargo shorts and T-shirt that showcased his broad chest and muscular arms. In a suit, Brant looked good; in casual clothes, he was beyond handsome . . . incredibly hot. They both stood there uncertainly for a moment before he walked toward her and pushed the door shut behind him. God, she wanted him to kiss her.
It must have been written all over her face because suddenly he was there. His lips were on hers and his arms were encircling her waist. Her heart raced, her toes curled and her body hummed. Well, hello Mr. Florida, welcome back! When she felt his fingers pinch her nipple through her bra, she started pulling him toward the bedroom. She was desperate to rip his clothes off and run her hands all over his firmly chiseled body. “Em,” he groaned as he pulled her body tightly against his. She felt the firm ridge of his arousal pressed against her. She dropped her hand, palming and lightly squeezing his length. “Fuck,” he growled, pushing back against her.
“I need you inside me . . . now,” she whispered.
He had just literally ripped the shirt from her body when he froze. “Fuck . . . Damn it! Em, stop! We can’t . . . remember. . . .” He was taking deep breaths and trying to get himself back under control. She had no idea why he paused or what he was talking about and she knew she would probably explode if they stopped. She unclipped her bra and let the straps slide from her arms. She lifted Brant’s shirt and slowly, deliberately, rubbed her erect nipples against his hairy chest. He shuddered against her as if in physical pain. “Em . . . baby, I’ve never . . . um . . . you know . . . had sex like this.”
His words penetrated her sexual fog and she pulled back to look at him. “What are you talking about? Sex like what?”
He rubbed her shoulder almost consolingly as he shifted around nervously. What the hell was wrong with him? “During . . . that time of the month.”
She looked at him blankly before it hit her. Oh shit! She had told him this morning that she had been near his house looking for supplies for her period. Crap! What a tangled web you weave when first you practice to deceive. No kidding! “Oh, that’s finished,” she said before reaching for him again.
“Whoa, what?” He was clearly confused.
She couldn’t meet his gaze as she continued adding to the lie that had gotten her in this mess in the first place. “It was a false alarm. I was all crampy this morning and I thought it was, you know . . . coming, but nothing ever happened, so I guess I was wrong.” He was still giving her a skeptical look, so she decided that a distraction would be the only thing to save her and she went for it in a big way. She lifted the short skirt she was wearing and gave him an eyeful of what she was wearing underneath . . . nothing. She saw his face go blank and no more words were exchanged between them. He pushed her backward until her bed was against her knees. He paused only to strip off the rest of his clothes before following her down. She started to pull her skirt off when his hands stopped her.
“Don’t. I want to lift this skirt and fuck you. Do you have a problem with that?” Before she could answer, he grabbed the foil pack he had thrown on the bed and tore it open, rolling the condom down his length.
“God, no,” she moaned. With no more preliminaries, he proceeded to lift her skirt, wrap her legs around his waist and push into her, hard and fast. Her breath left in a whoosh as her body stretched to accommodate him. Just when she had settled into the hard rhythm, he put an arm around her, turning them both so that suddenly she was on top. He was even deeper now, hitting against her cervix. She put her hands against his chest, trying to control his thrusts. When he reached a hand out and started rubbing his thumb in circles against her clit, she forgot all about control and rode him hard . . . over and over until she was screaming his name. Her body came apart in an explosion of spasms and with another few quick thrusts into her quivering body, Brant joined her in release.
She collapsed against his sweaty chest, gasping for breath, too spent to separate her body from his. She had no idea how long they lay there, both trying to catch their breath and calm their racing hearts. When Brant’s stomach growled against her ear, they both started laughing. He smacked her butt and asked, “Any chance you could feed me now like you promised?”
They took a quick shower together, soaking the bathroom floor as they teased each other. She was surprised by the end of their shower that one of them hadn’t slid down and broken a bone. She slipped a short sundress over her head and left off the bra and panties. She thought Brant might enjoy that surprise later. Soon they were both sitting on her couch with bowls of shrimp pasta balanced on their knees. “So how’s Alexia? Is she still staying with you?”