IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT and I’m home alone. By choice, mind you. Maggie’s on a date with a new guy she met through one of her sub jobs. He’s a teacher too, so that sounds promising. Barry is . . . I don’t really know, but he’s not here.
I need the time to think about Crew and what’s happening. He’s says that he’s falling, but what does that mean? Is his heart falling, or is he falling more in lust with this agreement we’ve made? My heart votes for door number one, but I won’t let it.
I’ve just settled on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn and my Kindle when my phone alerts me to a message. My heart skips a beat when I see his name on the screen.
Crew: What are you doing?
I decide to show him, snapping a picture and sending it to him.
Crew: Wild Saturday night.
Me: Ha! Not hardly. A night in is exactly what I needed.
Crew: Me too. Next week being opening week and all.
Me: We’re ready.
Crew: I agree.
I don’t really know what else to say. He reached out to me, so I set my phone on the arm of the couch, grab a handful of popcorn and wait. I’ve barely stuffed my mouth full when my phone pings again.
Crew: Can I see you?
Be still my heart. If I’ve learned anything about Crew Ledger, it’s that he rarely asks permission for anything.
Me: When?
Crew: Now. I’m a few minutes from your place.
Shit! I look down at my boy shorts and tank top. My hair is in a knot on top of my head and I have zero makeup on.
Me: You okay?
I need to ask because maybe there’s something wrong. Maybe he needs a friend or there’s an issue with the club. It can’t be what I think it is.
Crew: No. I miss you.
Me: Yes.
My fingers typed those three letters and hit Send before I could think about what I was doing. Staring down at the screen, I realize he’s on his way. I hop off the couch and barely avoid spilling my huge bowl of popcorn, my Kindle not as lucky as it clanks to the floor. I grab it and the popcorn and get them safely on the table when there’s a knock at the door. Standing tall, I take a deep breath and head that way.
Opening the door, he’s standing there, hands over his head, holding onto the frame. Neither of us says as word as he takes me in, my eyes on him while his travel over every inch of me. I watch his throat as he swallows hard before his eyes rake back up my body. “You’re fucking breathtaking,” he croaks out.
“You want to come in?”
He drops his hands and reaches for me as he steps through the door. “We alone?”
“Yeah,” I manage to answer as his hands roam over my body.
He leans down and buries his face in my neck causing me to giggle from the tickle of his beard. “Here or your room?”
“My room.” I turn out of his hold, trying not to freak out that he’s here, that he came to me. I just need to remind myself why he’s here. He needs release and we agreed no one else. No matter how badly I wish it were more.
I hear the click of the lock on the front door but don’t look back. Stepping into the room, the door closes behind me, followed by the unmistakable sound of him locking it.
I don’t have time to turn around before he’s behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, my back to his front. I tilt my head to the side, giving him access to my neck, and he takes full advantage as his lips drop gentle wet kisses along the length. I want him. I’m risking my soul letting him in here like this, but let’s be honest—I’m already too far gone. He’s just one of those people you can’t help but give yourself to.
“I need you,” he says between kisses to my neck. “I need to be buried deep inside you.” He nips at my neck. “Now.”
“Okay,” I murmur.
I feel a rush of his hot breath as he exhales, one hand on my hip as the other slides under my tank. He takes his time, caressing every inch of me as he works his way up to my breast. He rolls my already hard nipples between his fingers and I can’t stop the moan that escapes. “So fucking responsive to my touch,” he says, moving to the other breast and repeating the process. Sliding his other hand under my shirt, he captures both breasts and kneads them. “Arms up.” His voice is husky. Even though they feel like Jell-O as I’m consumed by his touch, I do as I’m told and lift them over my head.
“Son of a bitch,” Crew hisses, palming my ass that is still covered in boy shorts.
His hands leave my body, but only seconds pass before I feel his bare chest pressed against my back.
“Skin to skin,” he says, running his tongue over my shoulder. “Nothing better,” he declares as his hands once again find my now bare breasts.
He pinches both nipples, causing me to lean back against him, surrendering to him. He can have his wicked way with me and will get zero complaints on my end.
One hand still working over my hard nipples, the other travels down my belly. It doesn’t faze him when he reaches the hem of my boy shorts, his large hand sliding underneath the waistband, never missing a beat as he seeks out my heat. “Fuck, babe, you’re soaked.”
“For you,” my inner hussy goads.
“Fuck yes, for me. Only me,” he says before pushing one long thick finger inside. “Need these gone.” He moves the hand that was occupied with my breast to grip my boy shorts, tugging on them. The next thing I know I’m in his arms and being placed on the bed. Crew grabs my shorts with both hands and pulls them down my legs. Standing to his full height once more, he unbuttons his jeans and within seconds we’re both naked.
Reaching out, I grip his hard cock. He groans, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Sitting up, I scoot to the edge of the bed and take him in my mouth. No warning, just my mouth wrapped around the most sensitive part of him.
“Fuck” falls from his lips and his hand finds its way to my hair. “Need to see this, memorize it,” he says, holding my hair back from my face in his tight grip. “My cock in your mouth, best fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Just like that.”
His praise fuels my desire to bring him to his knees. I use my hand in tandem with my mouth, holding on tight to the back of his thigh with the other. I make a humming sound and he pushes me away.
“Can’t,” he pants. “I refuse to come down your throat. Not this time. I need to be inside you, now.” Reaching down for his jeans, he searches through the pockets until he pulls out a couple condoms, throwing them on the bed.
The look in his eyes, the one that tells me that he’s barely controlling himself from taking me fast and hard, has me sliding back on the bed and resting my head on the pillow. “I want you,” I say, letting my legs fall open. He stands stock-still, staring at me. Only he’s not looking at what I’m offering him—he’s looking at me. In a way it’s even more intimate, the way his eyes bore into mine.
Not breaking eye contact, he climbs on the bed, resting on his knees as his fingers trace through my desire for him. “Only me,” he says again.
“Just you,” I confirm, closing my eyes, enjoying what he’s doing to me.