27. Chapter 27
Saint
I get her on my lap in the car. She comes to me willingly, undoing me. Her kiss tells me she really wants this— she really wants me .
If being her rebound is a mistake, it's the best mistake I'll ever make.
I kiss her like what we're doing is meant to be.
Things could get heated again, but there's no privacy window between us and the driver.
We keep things cool, caressing safe spots softly, speaking into each other's ears.
Our conversation includes words of doctor check ups and contraception.
They could be dry and cold, but they sound like poetry to my ears.
We kiss as we realize we could skip the condoms if we wanted, but we decide we'll do it only if and when it feels right to both of us.
By the time we make it to my door, I'm so desperate to touch her that I consider kicking it down. The only reason I don't is because I can't manage a good strike with Ames in my arms.
"Do me a favor and take the keys out of my pocket," I mutter into her neck.
She gives me a delighted giggle. "I have my own keys, remember?"
She turns in my arms and handles the lock .
"Maybe all I wanted was to get your hand in my pants." I kiss the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. "You might have liked what you found there."
We make it inside. She laughs. I kick the door closed, then guide her deeper into the condo, still kissing her neck.
I try to get her in her room. She resists, making for my door. We stare at each other in a brief standstill.
"You don't sleep with your dates in the guestroom, do you?" she asks.
"Never, but your vibrator is in your room."
"Oh. Oh," she repeats in a different tone.
I lead her to her room. "Besides, tomorrow I'll have a new bed delivered. You don't have to wonder about anyone else. You can help me break in the mattress."
"That's… overdoing it, right? I shouldn't make a fuss."
"Make a fuss. Nothing would make me happier." I stop a few steps from her bed. "Nothing is too little or too big. Anything you want— I want it for you."
"Saint—" She doesn't finish the sentence, and jumps to me again.
I catch her. I kiss her. I moan into her mouth, and she must like it, because her hands get greedy. She trails hard fingers down my body, until she can grab handfuls of my ass.
Those sparks I felt all those years ago crackle and explode like fireworks under my skin. They burst and blast from my chest, a bomb without a sound, because right now, for a little while, Ames wants me.
I'll make it worth her while.
"Tell me your wildest dreams," I whisper.
It takes her a second, but she speaks against my skin.
"I don't have any," she admits.
It doesn't make sense and, for a moment, I blame those sparks. They're making me clumsy. They latch onto my heart and the mirage of the moment, and push me to envision a future with nights like this between us.
But this isn't about my delusions. It's about her desire.
I create distance between us and stare into her eyes. She looks dazed .
"Ames. When you fantasize about the things you crave in bed. What do you think of?"
She blinks a few times. "I didn't… use to think much about that."
Her admission tears at me. I want to curse every lover she's ever had, for not falling to their knees in gratitude to share her bed, and because they had her at all. I would be embarrassed at my sudden jealousy, but I like the idea of atonement via making her dreams a reality.
"Rule number three." My voice is rough. "Ames, your fantasies matter. All of them."
"But if they don't fit with my partner's—"
"The right partner will at least care, no matter how little time you have together."
"That's the fantasy," she mutters.
"Hey." I interrupt the thought with a brief kiss. "We'll start small. Any fantasies at all?"
She stares at me for a while. "Lately… lately I've been fantasizing about you."
My mind blanks. Her words, spoken quietly, burrow into the core of me. The spot turns soft and white.
It puts a small smile on my face. I step away, creating some distance between us. I open my arms like I'm ready to be crucified.
"Then take me," I say. "Do with me as you will."
She gazes at me like she's gauging my sincerity.
"Go ahead." My voice deepens. "Test me."
She continues to study me, but heat shimmers in her eyes now.
Her eyes travel down my body. Two, three steps, and she's next to me again. Her breasts and belly brush my torso, but I don't move. With calm composure, she starts to slowly undo my shirt buttons.
"Don't move." She stares into my eyes, then her gaze latches on my lips.
Shivers run down my spine at the sudden confidence in her voice. My arms fall somewhat but I keep straight, leaving my chest open as she pulls the panels of my shirt to the side. With exploring fingertips, she traces my torso. My necklace, my earring, my neck. I gulp.
"Huh." Her fingers touch my Adam's apple, then stop at my pulse. "Is this affecting you?"
My heart has taken on a fast thrum.
I bring her hand to my chest. "Do you feel that?"
She nods.
It takes a deep breath to manage a confession. "I've thought about this since I met you."
I have also thought about more than simply getting her in my bed, but I keep that in.
That part is my fantasy, and not one I can bet on.
Not with my track record, and the one time I tried it ended in mocking laughter and sticky failure.
I will not hurt her with my unchecked hopes.
With not being able to make it work, bringing about an ending I did not want or choose.
Not when Ames only wants me for a short while, too.
She frowns. "But you never tried to sleep with me."
A corner of my lip curls. "I'm taking my chance now, Amelia."
If this won't last, I'll make the best out of this wild offer I put at her feet. I'll leave her with memories, so she carries this time together with her just like I will.
It's as much pride as I'll allow myself.
"Tell me how you want me." I grab the edges of my shirt and slide it off my arms. "You're in control."
"I thought I told you not to move."
I freeze. My shirt hangs from my wrists, trapping me.
"That's better." She grabs me by my chain and pulls me. "Kiss me."
The hammering in my chest continues, but I don't move. I don't touch her, except for our lips and tongues in a languid, exploring kiss. Her thumb makes circles on my pulse, as her free hand makes a path down my chest and around my waist.
A chill runs down my spine. She digs her nails softly into my skin .
"You have goosebumps." Her voice is quiet, barely more than a breath.
The hand at my neck travels down. She teases my tight nipple with a nail.
I moan. "I want to touch you."
"Not yet."
"Is this how you test me? I'll be so good."
"You said I can do anything?"
"Anything."
"I can focus on me? What I want? Be who I am, and being that in bed too?"
"Yes. A thousand times. Yes."
With a little smile curling her lips, she undoes my belt buckle.
"Fuck," I mutter.
"I've seen you in your underwear," she muses. "I've seen you wet out of the pool."
She lets my pants fall to my ankles. My cock strains against my boxers. My heart beats faster than when I'm running for a touchdown.
The silk of my shirt turns to handcuffs on my wrists. I keep still as she runs her hands down my torso again, studying my body, killing me softly. Her eyes follow the path of her fingers, as they caress the ridges and valleys down.
Without hesitation, she runs a single finger leisurely up the length of my erection.
I make a deep sound.
"That day at the pool," she says, "I thought you might be hard. The way this looks right now? You weren't fully hard then."
"I think…" My voice is gravelly. I clear my throat, but it doesn't help. "I think that's a compliment."
Her fingernail makes a path on the head of my cock and I whimper.
"Do you like praise, Saint?"
"I'll earn it." I gulp. "Please. Let me earn it. "
There's nothing dignified about how I sound. Desperation isn't my style. Usually I'm fun in bed. Laughter, teasing, and multiple orgasms are my brand. I'm confident and eager and I drink their compliments like nectar.
But this is Ames. With her, I am more than eager. I am hungry. Pining, even as she stands within reach.
She enjoys it, from the blush spreading over her face.
"Take off everything but your underwear," she commands.
She steps back to give me the room. I obey.
I stand, hands fisted by my side.
"Do you want me to strip for you?" She asks.
"Let me do it." I tense my muscles until my chest and shoulders pop. It's the only way I manage to remain still. "Can I touch you?"
"I can see the strain that holding back is causing you. Makes me feel sexy."
"You're so sexy, Ames. Let me show you."
"You already are."
"More. I'll show you more."
She bites her lip and pulls her striped blouse up.
"No!" I shake my head. "Please. Let me do it. I've waited too long to do it."
"Tell me more." She drops her blouse back to place.
I lick my lips, and tell her what I'm ready to confess.
"The other night. After the club. I almost knocked at your door afterwards."
Her chest rises and falls, and my breathing matches hers. "Having you here with me. Next door to me. It's torment, Ames."
She comes close again, her eyes locked to mine.
"Can I undress you?" I ask.
"Tell me more about that night."
"Having you on my lap. Squirming. Showing you how much I wanted you and letting you believe it was just nature. For show. I ended up at your door, my hand on my cock, desperate for you. "
Her blush deepens and I feel it in my dick. I bite my bottom lip, hard, because I'm about to lose myself to this agony building inside.
She puts her hand on my hard length, and I'm closer to my breaking point than I've ever been.
"Oh, fuck ," I breathe.
She rubs slowly. Her mouth opens. Shallow, fast breathing moves her chest, as if she's trying to control herself, too. Her breasts push against the neckline of her blouse, and the bra that tantalizes me through the transparent bits of fabric.
"Ames. God. I can't get your moans out of my head."
"You… heard me."
"Please. Let me hear them again. I was there only for a few minutes. I promise. I walked away. Please, let me hear you moan again. I need to make you moan. I need your moans to be mine."
"They were, that night. They will be yours tonight, too."
I'm the one moaning now.
"What rule of dating casually is this?" She asks.
The universe is set to break me tonight. It makes a caricature of my heart and the times I fantasized about commitment.
I should be happy she expects this to end in the near future.
It should make things easier. It's what I wanted, when I heard her in her room.
For her to understand it wouldn't go anywhere.
Now she's the one not wanting this to last. I should be content with taking what I can and making a few life-changing memories.
I should be happy, but I'm not. I'm resigned. She'll move on, and I'll have to find my way back to dating casually.
"Rule number four," I growl. "He better be fucking devout. Pleasing you has to be all he cares about. You deserve nothing less."
I clench my jaw. My cock pulses in her hand.
Our eyes lock and I beg for mercy.