Chapter 25
Kellin
At the click of the lock, I leap off the couch. “Where the hell were you? You’re supposed to be in bed.”
Maeve kicks off her flip-flops by the door. “It’s fine. I’m feeling better.”
I grasp her by the arms, sit her on the velvety sectional, and peer into those dark, soulful eyes. They appear sharper than this morning. Less clouded with nausea and pain.
But the edges of her mouth droop into a frown that was absent the last time I checked on her.
My gut dips. What if she figured out what I did? “You have some color back in those cheeks—”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I push on. “You’re rattled. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Poof. All good. I don’t know what you’re sensing. Maybe my energy coming back?” She falls into me, shaping her mouth to mine for a sensual kiss.
My tongue kicks into gear. This woman…
Fuck me.
If I were a good guy, or even a bad guy with a heart of gold, I’d stop this—I know she’s deflecting from whatever’s just happened—to talk her through her troubles.
But I’m not a good guy.
I confidently claim that guilt and I were introduced for the very first time last night. The uncomfortable pressure strangling my lungs materialized as I searched her files while she lay passed out on the bed.
And I can’t be expected to know how to manage the novel emotion mere hours later.
“Darlin’.” I pull away, holding her by the shoulders. “Are you really okay to do this?”
I need to know that she truly wants this. I’m tempted to torture her with edging until she begs me to fuck her. Minor payback for the way she owns my mind.
I crave Maeve with unrivaled intensity.
Every inch of me longs to be inside her.
But I need her to match my obsession.
For that pink flush to spread across her creamy skin.
For her to drench herself so that by the time I touch her, she melts in my hands.
I stroke my thumb over the side of her neck. “I don’t want to do anything to trigger a relapse.” More bullshit. I know what caused her illness, and I’m certain she’s recovered by now.
She deflates. “I’m sorry, Kellin. I’m so selfish. You’re probably afraid I’ll get you sick.”
I brush my hand through the ends of her hair. “I’m not afraid of that at all.”
I sound like a martyr. It’s worth the risk just to be with you, baby.
I sit back so she can come to me.
My dick tents my pants.
Her eyes drop and widen, lust sparking in those brown orbs. Her gaze rakes up my chest and stops at the tie. “Is that one of…ours?” She pulls the tie through her fingers. The silk whispers against her skin.
So fucking erotic.
“Lenora grabbed it for me out of the office. But let’s not talk about work right now.”
She bites her lower lip as her slim fingers tug at the knot. “It suits you, but it needs to go.”
I recline against the back of the couch. Let her lead so she believes this is all her decision.
Definitely a gem of a man.
Maeve slides the tie off my neck.
I unfasten the top two buttons of my shirt while Maeve’s fingers dance down my chest and abs to my rock-hard cock. She curls her fingers around me over my pants. I shiver as she holds my gaze while slowly unzipping my fly.
She shoves down my pants and briefs, releasing a sharp breath when my dick springs free.
We didn’t take the time to learn each other last night. Not like this.
I grab the back of her neck. “Come here, beautiful.”
Our mouths fuse together, lips melding, tongues exploring.
Maeve rises from the couch and angles toward me so I can get rid of her jeans. I yank them off, tossing them somewhere behind the couch.
Her cardigan goes next. She flings it over her head, revealing a loose blue tank underneath. Then she’s on me again, lips demanding, fingers digging into my shoulders.
This woman could bring a man to his knees.
Her underwear slides off easily, joining the rest of her clothes on the floor.
I bite down on her bottom lip, my own fingers digging into her thighs. “Climb on top.”
With no hesitation, she straddles me. That wildness from the Arden patio shimmers in her eyes, conjuring up thoughts of magical creatures.
At this moment, I hunger with all the desperation of a starving man.
She could entice me into just about anything for a taste of that passion thrumming beneath her skin.
Tracking every tiny shift in her expression, I line her up and slowly sink her onto my dick. She’s so wet that I slip inside with only minimal resistance.
My eyes roll back in my head. Fuck. She grips me like she was made for me, and I tense to prevent our snug, perfect fit from triggering a premature end.
Maeve’s head rocks back as she releases a moan that steeps my chest with satisfaction.
She’s lost in the pleasure of the moment too.
Whatever she had on her mind when she came back to her room is miles away.
Her legs are spread so wide that I don’t have to move too much. I pump straight up, steady, controlled, and slowly come back down. Pause. Repeat.
Every time I drive deeper, she sighs and pinches her eyes closed as she soaks in the moment. And it works for me because I get to study her every little movement while she sways back and forth on my cock, lips parted, more moans dancing up from her throat, out of her mouth, and into my ears.
I’m the selfish one. Not her. I’ve got her where I want her, on display just for me. Slave to my cock.
She’s so hot around me, so wet. I brush my hands across her perfect stomach, then dip my hand lower so my thumb can tease her clit.
Her mouth rounds in a gorgeous, perfect “O.”
I press and circle that sweet, swollen little bud, rocking into her with increasing speed.
The additional moans I earn go straight through my brain, down my spine, and right into my cock.
“Kell…Kellin.” She can barely get my name out. She’s losing the ability to form words.
Flushed neck, wide eyes, kiss-red lips… She’s fucking perfect.
For me, sex has always functioned as a means to an end. A way to find release, information, or just enjoy a good time.
But this…
Maeve on top of me, my thumb strumming her clit, her hips gyrating on my cock, her tight pussy…
The exquisite bliss on her face, her nails raking down my arms…
I could die happy here.
I grip her hip with my free hand, pulling her down as I thrust up roughly.
Her head rocks forward, her eyes on mine. Her hands travel to my shoulders, fingers digging in.
She rides me with abandon. My thumb continues playing her swollen clit.
We both spiral toward the edge. Pressure reaches a breaking point at the base of my spine just as she screams my name and contracts around me.
“Fuck.” My arms snake around her back, holding her steady while I snap my hips and we ride out our simultaneous orgasms. When the final wave ends, I fall back on the couch, covered in sweat and still inside her.
My dick and my thighs are all kinds of wet, and she’s trembling on my chest, but our breathing gradually returns to normal territory.
She’s literally vibrating because of me, and rotten bastard that I am, I’ve never felt better.
I study every visible inch of her. Face, neck, pussy, legs. Neither of us removed our shirts, leaving me with a drenched button-down and her with a tank all stretched out and twisted around her stomach.
After shower number two with Maeve—I do not deserve this—we warm up some soup and dunk the sourdough.
I can’t stop my eyes from flicking around the room, just to double check that a certain tech monkey didn’t actually bug the place.
No matter what, he’ll notice my second overnight stay in her room.
Unless she boots me out.
Shit, I never even considered that possibility, and the tightness in my chest indicates I’m not a big fan. In the past, I was always the one to end the fun once we finished screwing. Sleepovers breed attachment, and I had no interest in that.
Until now. With the absolute last woman I should let burrow under my skin.
“Kellin, what is it? You want to switch soups?”
I nearly choke on my sourdough, coughing on a laugh. I wish my problem had such a simple solution.
“I could call room service. I’m sure you’re used to a more substantial dinner.”
“No, it’s fine.” I scoot my chair closer to hers, placing my hand on her arm. “I was just thinking about sleeping arrangements.” Panic flashes in her eyes, and I hurry to reassure her. “Can I stay with you?”
Last night, I needed an excuse to go through her files. Tonight, I just want to sleep here. Next to her.
Her shoulders relax. “Yeah, I’d like you to stay.”
My lungs flatten when happiness brightens her features. She’s breathtaking.
I spoon in a mouthful of soup to curb the impulse to say something stupid. “Thanks. This is nice. The soup.” I smile. “It takes me back. Like, tee-ball back.”
She rests her cheek on her hand. “Do tell.”
“My mom always made soup and sandwiches before ball practice. She called it her teaser before dinner. You know, just enough to tide us over. Not enough to ruin our appetites.”
“She sounds wonderful.” She sighs, just a little. “That’s so sweet.”
I lean over to kiss her cheek. “You’re sweet.”
Maeve’s not wrong. Once upon a time, I saw my mother as a kind woman.
Before I was old enough to understand the dysfunction between my parents.
My father was a bastard, yes, but my mother got off on manipulating and intentionally provoking him, only to play the victim afterward.
Their twisted dynamics injected me with a healthy dose of wariness toward women and relationships.
But the way Maeve said that…
I rip apart the last bit of my bread. “Did you not have a nice mother, Maeve?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She rises, carries our empty bowls to the sink, rinses them out, and then puts them in her dishwasher.
I shouldn’t have pried.
Way to go.
“Sorry. I’m just being nosy.”
She glances at me from over her shoulder. “My family…” She returns to me and grabs my hand. “It’s complicated.”
When she offers a thin smile, I can’t tell if she wants to share or to demand that I mind my own business.
I already understand that complicated doesn’t even begin to describe her crazy family.
But I don’t think it’ll serve the mission if she confesses her mafia connection to me right this very second. That can wait.
For now, I have plans.
I pull her between my legs. Staring up at her as she’s cocooned in my arms, with my hands cupping her delectable ass, my dick twitches to life. “Let’s go back to bed?”
As she leads the way, I try not to feel like I dodged a bullet.