Chapter Eighteen MADISON
Chapter Eighteen
MADISON
Graham held me against his body, and I felt something I’d never felt before—comfort and safety.
I also felt really, really incredible. I was beyond satiated.
This man had just given me two climaxes in the span of half an hour.
I considered that a miracle. But that wasn’t what gave me comfort.
It was resting in his strong embrace against every inch of his delectable rugged body and the gentleness with which he held me.
My heart cast out rushed beats, and I tried to pull it together.
I didn’t remember falling asleep beside Graham.
All I knew was it happened. Sleep didn’t come easily to me.
It never had. Yet with him holding me close, I tumbled into a dreamless, warm sleep without my usual restless thinking while anxiety ran laps in my thoughts.
I had no idea if he intended to spend the night with me, but I woke before dawn the following morning with him curled up behind me.
I discovered spooning was the best thing ever.
I’d never considered myself much of a cuddler.
Not that I had all that much experience with cuddling with anyone.
My ex certainly hadn’t been a cuddler, and he was the only man I’d spent the night with.
Well, except for Graham now. His warm, muscled body was behind me with his knees hooked in the bend of mine.
One of his big palms rested on my belly.
I’d never thought much about my own softness, but in contrast to Graham, who was all rugged, raw muscle, I felt small and soft.
I loved being held by him like this. Almost too much.
The moment felt fragile as if I’d lose the feeling as soon as reality intruded.
I took a deep breath, and it was then I noticed his arousal nestled against my bottom.
My body moved on its own, shifting back slightly and savoring the knowledge that even in sleep, this man’s instinctual reaction to me was to be turned on.
I didn’t think of myself as much of a flirt.
Actually, that was a big fat lie. I’d done nothing but flirt in high school, except it was all a facade.
I’d never quite gotten the hang of flirting in the genuine, easy sense.
I’d been called a tease when I was younger.
Lord knows how I became homecoming queen or why I even wanted to.
More to the point, why was I thinking about that right now?
Way to ruin the moment. Insecurity suddenly swamped me, and I wondered if I’d been awful last night.
My ex had slashed my confidence in that area.
Not that I’d ever had much knowledge, to begin with, but he told me I was too inexperienced.
He told me I needed to relax, again and again and again.
I remembered thinking that lecturing someone about how they needed to relax was a surefire way to actually prevent that from ever happening.
I hoped I hadn’t been too terrible last night.
I hadn’t thought at all with Graham. I hadn’t thought about where to touch him or what to do because it had all simply happened in a wild rush.
I didn’t mean to wiggle my bottom, but I did.
And then, I felt Graham come awake. I couldn’t say exactly how I knew.
It was a subtle sense of awareness and my own body reacting to his.
It was as if our bodies knew a language we didn’t, a language I didn’t know.
All I knew was I could feel my slick arousal between my thighs, and that was rather startling.
Another complaint from my ex: I wasn’t wet enough, whatever that meant.
Last night, I’d been dripping. Despite the insecurity chattering in my thoughts, I knew I’d been plenty wet.
Graham had slid in so easily. I swallowed, feeling myself flush all over, my skin almost prickling and tingling from the heat of it.
The sound of Graham’s voice rumbled against the back of my neck. “Madison.” There was a hint of warning in his tone, and I couldn’t help it. He spurred this little sassy part of me I wasn’t even familiar with. I wiggled my bottom again.
“Madison,” he repeated in his gruff tone.
Merely the sound of his voice sent heat pooling low in my belly. “What?” I asked, trying to make my voice sound flirtatious. It just came out raspy, the edges roughened from sleep.
I wiggled my bottom again, and this time, Graham’s chest rumbled with a laugh. His palm slid up my belly to cup a breast. All joking was over then, and I let out a shameless moan when I felt the calloused surface of his thumb dragging over my nipple. It was already perked up, all happy to see him.
“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he murmured in my hair before I felt the brush of his lips on my neck and the light graze of his teeth.
I’d never had morning sex. I’d always felt too insecure about how I looked.
Graham had no such qualms. In fact, I discovered him to be bossy in the morning.
He made love to my neck, and I never knew that just hot kisses and nips on my earlobe could leave me a melted puddle of a girl. All I wanted was him.
He rolled me over, catching both of my hands with one of his. He did have big hands, but wow, it was so freaking hot to be handled like that. Next thing I knew, he’d reached between my legs, murmuring, “That’s my girl,” when he found me wet and ready.
The moment his fingers disappeared, I let out a protesting whimper. His response? “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll take care of you.”
Dear God. This man. Take care of me, he did.
He teased me to a fast climax with his fingers before filling me with his hot, thick length.
I had my first quickie and came in a noisy burst a second time as he cried out roughly and shuddered against me.
Moments later, as we lay on the bed in a tangled, sweaty heap, his hand trailed down my belly. No finesse, just a rough caress.
Wilbur startled us when I was recovering. I heard the click of his claws on the floor and looked over to see his cheerful face peering over the edge. A second later, he disappeared, and I listened as he walked out of the room again.
Graham chuckled. “Surprised he just showed up now.” He rose on his elbow, and I opened my eyes to find him looking at me as if I were some kind of puzzle.
“What?” I asked, my insecurities punching through my passion-induced daze.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he murmured.
“What do you mean?” I pressed.
“You, sweetheart. You’re dangerous.”
With that enigmatic comment, which I thought he meant in a good way, he rolled off the bed swiftly. “Mind if I use your shower?” he tossed over his shoulder as he walked bare-ass naked across my bedroom.
Jesus, this man. Even the back of him was delicious. His back was all ropey muscles and his ass was tight. I wanted to squeeze it. I was pretty sure I had last night, but last night was all a blur, just a tumble of sensations, one rolling into the next, and me feeling desperate for Graham.
“Of course not,” I said as I swung my feet off the bed.
The hardwood floor was cool under my feet, and I wiggled my toes as I stood looking down at the whimsical color. I suddenly recalled painting my toenails with Graham’s daughter. I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. I felt as if I had done something very naughty.
Graham turned around, and I saw the front of him. Gah! This man was way too comfortable with his body. He stood there completely naked with his cock still slightly swollen against his thigh. He arched a brow. “What?”
“Nothing.” He remained silent, waiting. “Actually, I just remembered I painted my toenails with Allie.”
Graham’s brow rose a little higher, and he shrugged. “How about we not worry about that?” With that, he stepped in the shower, calling, “You can join me.”
It was my shower, after all, or rather my grandfather’s. That elicited another jolt of guilt. My grandfather was probably turning over in his grave. I just had sex in his old house. I shook my head as I walked into the bathroom, feeling bashful in my bare state.
Graham was standing by the shower with his arm stretched in to turn on the water. I lifted my chin, knowing that I probably had a full-body blush. “It’s my shower, you know,” I said, my tone crisp.
“I know that, Madison,” he replied, his tone all gravelly and sexy.
Then he grabbed my hand and tugged me into the shower with him, where he proceeded to bring me to another climax. This was a record for me. Even my vibrator couldn’t do this justice. I’d had some great orgasms with my vibrator, just not this many in such a short span of time.
After that, the awkwardness commenced. I had no idea how to do a morning-after with my new neighbor from Alaska, who was a hotshot firefighter and a gazillion miles away from what I thought my type was.
Apparently, he was my specific type because no one other than him had ever turned me on like this.
“Would you like some coffee?” I asked a little while later. I’d walked Wilbur and fed him. We were dressed and in the kitchen.
“I’d love some.” Graham glanced at his watch. “I need to pick Allie up inside of twenty minutes, and I don’t have time to hit Firehouse first.”
As I looked at him, I realized I’d actually given him a hickey. It was low and barely noticeable, right at the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. My face must have gone pink because he asked, “What?”
I gestured toward his neck. “I think I gave you a hickey.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded.
“Fuck. This is the kind of thing Allie will notice.”
I ran to the bathroom and brought out some cover-up. Of all the things I never thought I would do, this ranked high—helping a hotshot firefighter who’d driven me wild during the night and this morning cover up the hickey I’d given him.
As we stood by the door with Wilbur staring up at us like a chaperone, I suddenly didn’t know what to say—me who prided myself on at least being able to use my manners to fake my way through any moment stared at Graham and blinked.
“Last night was incredible,” Graham said, his voice low and gruff.
“It was?” I squeaked. Heat flashed up my cheeks.
“Sweetheart, it was,” he said flatly. “Let’s keep it between us, okay?”
When he dipped his chin, I felt my head bobbing. “Of course.”
“Allie can’t know.”
“Right.”
“And this town is the size of a thimble. If anyone else knows, you can be rest assured she will find out eventually.”
After he drove away, I realized I’d become his dirty secret in one night. I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I thought it was probably bad. He was probably embarrassed to have anyone know he even wanted me, the homecoming queen who’d landed here because she’d lost everything.