Chapter Six Maya
Chapter Six
Maya
For the last two weeks, like clockwork, Jordan had shown up at the same time and location every morning.
Was it on purpose or a coincidence that he didn’t show up the morning after we’d had sex under the bridge?
Whatever his reasoning was, I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like the way it made me feel. And I especially hated that his absence caused me to feel gross about my decision to have sex with him.
That I felt hurt.
He owed me nothing. We were no more than two horny strangers.
So why did I expect more from him? Why, when I was putting on my green spandex running outfit, did I immediately wonder what his reaction would be when he saw it and how quickly he would touch me and if he would try to have sex with me again, pouncing the second he saw me.
I even stuck around in case he was late, even though he’d always been so punctual. But once the five-minute mark hit, I took off, feeling quite pathetic.
In my mind, the whole plan of making him chase me, lust after me, was over.
He’d gotten what he wanted, and he was done. The kind of man my mother had warned me about when I became a teenager and her heart had been hurt at least a dozen times.
When I approached the intersection the following day, I anticipated him being a no-show again.
I didn’t even look up as I got close to the crosswalk.
But as I neared, I felt someone’s gaze move across my body.
I felt a presence—the same presence I felt every time I came to this section of the city—and a breathlessness in my chest.
And there he was, smiling as he looked at me, as though only seconds had passed since he’d last seen me rather than almost two days.
He had some nerve to stand there grinning with confidence, so full of himself.
God, that man was cocky.
“Good morning, Maya.”
“Morning,” I muttered, jogging in place, fully intending to cross the street the second the signal changed, hoping to put enough distance between us that I wouldn’t have to see him.
“Did you miss me yesterday?”
Unbelievable.
Not only was he cocky but also a total asshole.
I refused to answer his question. “Did you miss me?”
The slyest smile came across his face. “I missed everything about you.”
I couldn’t wait to hear this.
“Like what?” I asked.
Rather than wait for his reply, I ran through the crosswalk. I wasn’t surprised that he stayed right beside me—I was just annoyed that he had.
“Your scent.”
I laughed.
“You know, it’s too bad I had to shower when I got home the other day. I would have liked to smell that scent forever.”
“What’s my scent?” I challenged.
“Green apple and lime.”
The two main notes of my perfume. I was shocked he’d picked up on that.
I turned at the upcoming street. “That’s all you missed? Seems a bit trivial.”
“No, that’s just the beginning.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you would say that.”
“You know what I thought about all day yesterday? The feel of your lips.”
“All day, huh? Sounds a bit strange coming from someone who didn’t show up when he could have had my lips.”
“Am I sensing that you missed me?”
I laughed again to hide how I was really feeling. “Miss? No.”
“I think you’re underplaying that.”
“Underplaying what?”
“How yesterday affected you.”
I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, the need to set him straight so overwhelming, I couldn’t take another step. He halted a few paces after me and backtracked, the two of us now facing each other.
As I was about to reply, he reacted even quicker, and before I had a chance to speak, his hand was suddenly cupping the back of my head, his other hand on my cheek and his lips on mine. He didn’t just part my mouth, giving me his tongue—he breathed me in.
He inhaled me.
He pounced on me just the way I wanted him to.
And even though I was upset and I’d been ready to give him a piece of my mind, his lips were making me forget everything that had bothered me. To the point where the only thing I could focus on was him.
The tongue that I’d been craving.
The mouth that pulled this burning desire out of me.
“Another thing I missed,” he whispered after he’d slowly separated us, “is the way your body reacts when I touch you. I can feel the way I turn you on, Maya. The way you lean in to me like you want more.”
Because I do.
He kept his face close. “Just so you know, I was all ready to go out for a run yesterday and an unexpected work thing came up that I had to deal with. If I had your number, I would have called you.”
His admission unraveled within me.
So he hadn’t been avoiding me. He wasn’t playing hard to get. He wasn’t satisfied and done.
I couldn’t believe the amount of relief I felt. How fast it came over me. How deep it hit me.
For the first time today, my lips pulled into a smile, and I traced them with my fingertips where they still tingled from his kiss. “You’re saying you want my number?”
“If you want to give it to me.”
I laughed. “That’s not an answer.”
He kissed me again, but this time, he didn’t use his tongue. And this time, he held me even tighter. I didn’t just hear him breathe me in—I felt it.
“Tell me something,” he said when he moved his mouth away. “You mentioned no one has ever gotten you to swallow before, but you never told me why you did it with me.”
“I didn’t?” I hoped that if I acted coy, he would drop it.
He chuckled as if he sensed exactly what I was doing. “No. You didn’t.”
When I’d said it, I was sexed up. But now, slightly sex sober, I wish I hadn’t mentioned it.
“I don’t know, Jordan. In that moment, something happened and I had the desire to. I’m not sure why, it just happened . . . and it felt right.”
“You mean, like not using a condom? How that, out of nowhere, when it’s something neither of us ever do, also felt right?”
I nodded.
“What’s interesting about this, Maya, is that I never go back for seconds. You should know it’s not my thing.” He stroked my cheek. “Just like dating.”
I tried to stop my eyes from widening. “And you’re telling me this, why?”
“Since we fucked under the bridge, I’ve thought of nothing but you.” He lifted my face, pointing my chin up toward his. “You haven’t left my mind. Not even once.”
Two statements that wrapped around me like a hug. “Sounds like you want to date me—you know, if you did that kind of thing.”
His gaze intensified. “What is it about you that I can’t seem to get enough of?”
“Maybe it’s the spandex.”
He chuckled. “Well, there’s that, yes.” He searched my eyes. “But it’s more. You’re like this special concoction that a chef whips together and is so fucking good, you want to go back to the restaurant the next night.” His voice was getting grittier. “And the night after that.”
“Now you’re comparing me to food?” I winked.
“It’s fitting, given that I can’t stop dreaming about your pussy and how badly I want to fucking eat it.”
I couldn’t breathe. “What’s stopping you?”
“Your roommates. You said they’re home at this hour, didn’t you?”
“Don’t you have an apartment?”
He seemed to really think about my question, which I couldn’t understand. Where he lived should be an easy answer.
“I do,” he finally said. “But it’s a mess. It’s . . . getting sprayed.”
“Sprayed?”
“The whole building had an uptick in roaches.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist. “I’m not going to lie, the thought of that—regardless of how common they are in this city and how often I see them—makes me want to die.”
“That’s why I’m not bringing you there. I’m actually moving into a hotel tonight. I’ll be staying there for a few days. You should come over.”
“Tonight?”
He smiled. “Is that your way of telling me you have plans?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll be seeing you this evening?”
My teeth had sunk into my bottom lip. I didn’t know when they’d gone on the attack, but it was starting to hurt. “I . . . think I can make that happen.”
He released my face and took out his phone. “What’s your number?”
“Why do you need my number?” I teased.
He glanced up from his screen. “So I can text you what hotel I’m at.”
“Swapping numbers is kind of serious, Jordan. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
He grinned as he shook his head. “You’re never going to make this easy on me, are you?”
I held out my hand. “Give me your phone.”
He hit the screen several times and passed it over, a blank contact page waiting for me. I typed in my first name and added my number and saved it before returning the phone to him.
“I just texted you.” He then slid his cell into his pocket.
“So official-feeling. Are you all right?” I laughed. “Or are you about to have a panic attack?”
“We don’t ever have to text each other, Maya, and you don’t even have to come to the hotel.” He grabbed my waist. “I’ll bring you under the bridge right now and taste you there.”
“I think I prefer the hotel.”
“And you think I’m the one who’s trying to make it more official feeling? Sounds like it’s you.”
I could lick that smile off his face, it was that delicious. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I just want to be able to get in my five miles today and not be late for work. If I factor in the under-bridge shenanigans, I’ll most definitely be late to work.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I rolled my eyes at him and smiled. “Come on. Let’s run.”
We were less than a minute in when he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen, grinning at whatever message had just come in.
This was a different smile from the one he’d had moments ago.
It was raw and sinful and sexy as hell.
“Someone just got good news,” I said.
He put his phone away. “The thing that took me away from yesterday’s run worked out just the way I wanted it to.”
I scanned my memory. “I don’t even know what you do for work.”
“It’s boring.”
“‘Boring’ like you enter data into a computer all day and look at nothing but numbers and a screen?”
“Not that boring. It’s more of a . . . corporate position.”
“Is it relaxed or uptight?”
“I certainly can’t wear scrubs to work, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I smiled. “I just mean, is the role chill or highly stressful? Are you a boss?”
“I’m a bit of everything.”
“So you’re telling me you’re one of those . . .” I winked at him.
“One of what?”
“One who wears a suit to work and has a slew of employees reporting to you and an office bigger than my apartment and makes more in a week than I do in a month.”
“Maya, are you telling me you don’t like those kinds of people?”
I slowed as I reached the upcoming intersection. “It’s not that I don’t like them. My life is just completely opposite from theirs.”
“Opposites attract, don’t they?” He grinned.
“In this case, no. The people who own corporations whose sole purpose is to get richer and richer are the kind of people who made my mom and me homeless when I was a kid”—I held up my hand before he could say anything—“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad.
I’m just saying it so you understand. There’s me and the life I’ve built that I love so much and I’m so grateful for, and then there’s them.
” I paused. “I hope you’re not one of them, Jordan . . .”
There were several feet between us, and he closed that distance, his hands going to my face as though he was claiming this spot on my body. But even though his hands were large and my face wasn’t, his palms fit perfectly. “I just realized what it is about you that I can’t seem to get enough of.”
I stared into his eyes, a green that sucked me in and wouldn’t let me go. “And that is?”
“I can’t get enough of the words that come out of your mouth.”
Once again, I didn’t have the chance to comment, because he kissed me.
Hard.
Fierce.
And with a level of passion that could have stripped off my clothes right here on this sidewalk and I wouldn’t have stopped him.