Chapter 8
Eight
Blayne
The moment my mouth touches hers, years of wanting crashes over me like a fucking tidal wave.
She tastes sweet, so fucking sweet, and when she makes this soft little sound against my lips, I’m done for. Her mouth opens under mine, and I take the invitation, deepening the kiss until we’re both breathing hard.
Christ, she feels good. Warm and soft in my arms. Her scent, saturating my lungs. Better than I imagined, and I’ve imagined this more times than I care to admit. Her lips against mine feel so fucking good, and when her tongue touches mine, heat shoots straight to my dick.
I back her up against the cutting table, my hands framing her face, and she doesn’t resist. If anything, she presses closer, her hands fisting in the fabric of the open suit jacket, pulling me against her.
This is everything I’ve wanted and nothing like I expected. Reggie’s not tentative or careful. She’s hungry, desperate, kissing me like she’s been starving for this as long as I have.
When I break the kiss to breathe, she chases my mouth, and the needy sound she makes nearly brings me to my knees.
“Fuck, baby,” I breathe against her lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
“Tell me,” she whispers, the same thing she said before, and her voice is rough with want.
Instead of answering, I kiss her again, harder this time, pressing her back against the table until she’s half-sitting on it. Her legs part, and I step between them, my hands sliding down to her waist.
She feels perfect against me, all soft curves and warm skin, and when she arches into me, I nearly lose my mind. My hands find the hem of her blouse, and I’m just sliding my fingers under, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach, when…
“Mom! Where’s my math book?”
We spring apart like we’ve been electrocuted. Reggie’s lips are swollen, her hair mussed, and her eyes glossy. She looks thoroughly kissed, and the sight makes me want to say, fuck the math book, and finish what we started.
“I’ll be right there, honey!” she calls back, her voice a bit unsteady.
We stare at each other for a moment, both breathing hard. Her hand goes to her lips, like she can’t believe what just happened.
“I should…” she starts.
“Yeah. Go.”
She smooths down her hair and straightens her shirt, but there’s no hiding what we were just doing. Anyone who looks at her is going to know she was being tongue-fucked and groped about thirty seconds ago.
“Your suit is great,” she says, which is probably the most ridiculous thing either one of us could say right now. “Maybe a little work at the waist, but that’s it.”
“Good. That’s… good.”
She heads toward the door, then stops and looks back at me. “Blayne…”
“Mom!” The voice is closer now, more insistent.
“Go,” I tell her. “We’ll figure shit out later.”
She nods and disappears down the hallway, leaving me standing in her sewing room with a hard-on that could cut through glass and the taste of her still on my lips.
I wait until I hear her talking to whichever kid needed her, then I grab my shirt and get the hell out of there.
I make it home in record time, my hands shaking as I unlock the front door. My house is quiet, too fucking quiet. All I can think about is the way Reggie felt in my arms, the little moans she made when I kissed her.
I head straight to my bedroom, not bothering to turn on any lights. I need to get out of this suit, need to do something about the ache in my dick that’s been building since the moment she put her hands on my chest.
I strip off the jacket and pants, leaving them on the floor, and fall back on my bed in just my boxers. My cock is straining against the fabric, and when I wrap my hand around it through the cotton, I let out a loud, ragged groan.
I should take a cold shower. I should go for a run, hit the gym or do anything other than what I’m about to. Feels like the respectful thing to do.
Instead, I shove my boxers down and take my long, thick, throbbing shaft in hand.
Fuck, I’m already leaking, so fucking hard it hurts. I think about Reggie’s hands on my chest, the way she looked up at me with her dark eyes full of need. I think about her mouth, soft and eager on mine, the way she tasted when I kissed her.
I stroke myself slowly at first, trying to make it last, but it’s been too long since I’ve even touched a woman. And this was Regina Mason. My Reggie… The girl I’ve craved for so long. I think about her pressed against that table, her thick thighs spread for me, her hands pulling me closer.
I think about what would have happened if her kid hadn’t interrupted us. Would I have lifted her on the table? Stripped that pretty top off and found out what color her nipples are? Fell down on my knees, thrown her legs over my shoulders and feasted on her sweet cunt until she cried my name?
The thought of her coming for me, of hearing my name on her lips when she orgasms, sends me over the edge. I come hard, harder than I have in years, her name torn from my throat as I spill all over my hand and stomach.
After, I lie there staring at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath and figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do now.
Because this changes everything. Our kiss, the way she responded to me, the heat between us, there’s no fucking going back from this. No pretending it didn’t happen, no maintaining the careful distance I’ve kept for years.
But what the hell am I supposed to do? She’s got kids, a life to rebuild, a business to get off the ground. The last thing she needs is me complicating things more.
And that’s exactly what I’d be doing. Because I don’t do casual, and I sure as hell wouldn’t do temporary with my Reggie. I want it all with her. And… that’s dangerous.
She deserves better than some come-from-nothing guy, who barely survived war PTSD, and is still figuring out how to be worthy of the life he’s built. She deserves someone who can give her everything, not someone who’s going to bring his baggage into her fresh start.
I need to stay away from her. Need to keep things friendly, focused on helping her and her kids, and nothing else. No more private fittings, no more moments alone where I might lose control.
That’s the right thing to do. The smart thing.
So why does it feel like the worst decision I’ve ever made in my entire fucked-up life?