Six
SIX
Hart
“Open.”
Without hesitation, Reagan parted her lips. I pushed my thumb inside, kept my eyes on her gorgeous face, and waited to see what she would do. But after some time passed with no additional moves from her, I had no choice but to give her another command.
“Suck.”
She swirled her tongue around the tip of my thumb before she sucked on it. She did that while she continued to ride me.
It had been just shy of a month since I’d shown up in Reagan’s driveway unannounced. Nearly one whole month of doing this with her, and I wasn’t the least bit bored. This woman had kept it fun, and she seemed up for just about anything. I couldn’t have asked for more.
Reagan had such enthusiasm when we were together, and this time was no different.
She continued to do as I’d asked for a bit longer before I slid my thumb from her mouth, dragged it along her bottom lip, and urged her mouth to mine. As my tongue swept inside, my hand drifted down to caress and squeeze her breast. My opposite hand was resting on her hip, encouraging her movements.
Her moans filled the air, the sound something I was still trying to get used to. I didn’t know what it was, but for some reason, hooking up with Reagan was different than anybody else. Maybe it was the mutual understanding we had about the status of things between us. Maybe it was that she was so willing to do this with me and hadn’t gone back on that initial agreement.
Because I’d dealt with that before. I’d had women who insisted they weren’t interested in anything serious, and they all went back on those statements. So far, Reagan hadn’t faltered. And even though I didn’t know why things were the way they were for her, she’d said enough prior to things heading down this road between us that made me believe she’d never change.
Reagan tore her mouth from mine, dropped her head back, and placed her palms on my thighs behind her.
As she worked her hips over me, my hand, that had been in her mouth only minutes before, went right between her legs. I applied that pressure and gave her the friction I knew she was seeking.
Reagan’s breathing grew shallow, labored. Her movements became frantic and uneven. “Hart,” she breathed a warning.
The corners of my mouth tipped up. I loved hearing her say my name like that. I liked knowing she was this close to reaching her orgasm and the only thing she could manage to say was my name.
I debated on taking my hand away, but as desperate as she was to find that release, I needed it, too. There was something about seeing her come apart that did it for me.
So, I kept at her until that moment when it hit her. Then, in a flash, I removed my hand, flipped her onto her back, and drove in.
Reagan’s hands gripped my shoulders as she cried out. My eyes remained on her face and body, thrusting forcefully. And right when she’d made it to the other side, I found my own release.
I gave myself no more than a minute to regain control of my breathing and come down from the high. Then I pulled out and stood up beside the couch. Reagan remained on her back on the couch, her eyes roaming over me and a satisfied smile on her face.
Laughter spilled out of me. “Everything alright?”
“Oh, it’s absolutely perfect.”
I jerked my head to the side. “I’m going to run to the bathroom quickly. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
I turned, snatched up my clothing, and moved toward the bathroom, leaving Reagan happy and sated on the couch.
By the time I’d gotten myself dressed again and had returned to the living room, Reagan had managed to get herself cleaned up and dressed as well. I was grateful for that, because it was just one more thing she did to indicate to me that she was serious about this not turning into something more than just a physical relationship.
“I had a nice time this afternoon, Hart.”
Nodding, I confirmed, “Yeah. Yeah, I did, too.”
Reagan smiled. She’d done that so many times already, and somehow, I still hadn’t gotten used to the sight of it.
I guessed that was a good thing. The longer things felt new and exciting with her, and as long as she continued to keep things strictly physical, the longer I’d remain interested in maintaining this arrangement.
“Heading out?” she asked.
I returned the smile. “Yep. Back to work.”
Reagan narrowed her eyes, questions lingering in her stare. I braced, waiting for her to press me for more information, but she refrained. She brushed off whatever thoughts were running through her mind and said, “I guess I’ll just hope to see you soon, then.”
Relief swept through me. I pinched her chin between my thumb and forefinger, my eyes fixed on hers. Then I swept my thumb along her jaw. “I’ll surprise you with another visit soon enough.” With that, I turned, moved toward the front door, and said goodbye. “Lock up behind me.”
A moment later, I was gone. And on the way back to work, I found myself wondering how long was reasonable to wait to see her again if I didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.
* * *
Reagan
Seven weeks later
“I know this might be hard to believe, but I’m on your side.”
I balled my hands into fists and growled with frustration. “It certainly doesn’t feel like it. This feels—” I sighed and closed my eyes, hoping to get a hold on what I was feeling. “This feels like you might just hate me.”
Hart leaned close and brought his mouth to my ear. As he nipped the lobe, he drove two fingers inside me. “Hate is such a strong word, shortcake. I can promise you that’s not even close to what’s going on in my head.”
With his teeth and tongue still at my ear, Hart dragged his fingers back slowly, pressing his thumb to my clit as he did. My muscles clenched as I pressed my head deeper into the pillow and moaned.
When his fingers surged forward again but didn’t move, I didn’t hesitate to share my thoughts. “Nothing should be going on in your head right now. Nothing but sex and pleasure and orgasms.”
He chuckled, the sound sending shivers along my spine. “Oh, I’m thinking about all of that.”
“I’ve always been nice to you. I’m always nice to everyone. Why can’t you be nice to me?”
Hart pulled his face back so he could look down at me. I couldn’t miss the question in his gaze as his hand, with his two fingers still inside me, cupped me firmly. “Always nice to everyone?”
I swallowed roughly, my breath coming out in a labored rush. “Not like that. I just mean in general. But you… you have the chance to be nice to me. And you should think about that because I’m always nice to you.”
As his eyes roamed over my face, his fingers began to move, albeit slowly, offering some small relief. “You don’t think I’m being nice to you?”
My tongue ran along my upper lip, Hart’s eyes watching its movement. “It feels a little like torture.”
The sound of his soft laughter served to aggravate me more. I might have acted on it if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was currently doing something with his fingers between my legs that I liked. “Have I ever left you hanging, Reagan?”
I didn’t seem to have the capacity to speak. I rolled my head from one side to the other while squeezing the rest of my muscles.
“If you know that’s true, you should trust that this time won’t be any different. But you need to understand the kind of man I am.”
His fingers stopped doing the thing I liked. My eyes shot to his. “It’s no secret you’re a bit of a mystery, Hart, but you’ve made it clear that you’re a man who likes sex. So why are you denying me and delaying this when it could be so enjoyable for both of us?”
Hart pulled his fingers from between my legs and trailed them up my abdomen. He reached my breasts and palmed each of them before squeezing one. Then his thumb swept over my nipple as my hips rolled in a vain attempt to seek out some friction.
“Who said I wasn’t enjoying myself?” His lips twitched as I glowered at him. He offered another flick of his thumb over my nipple. “I’m having a fantastic time. It’s very much a turn-on to see you getting all worked up. And I know precisely when you’re close to tipping over that edge, not only from the sounds you make, but also from the way your skin gets this gorgeous flush.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
Hart released my breast and crawled his fingers up to my collarbone. “Your chest and neck get flushed when you’re on the verge of an orgasm. And every time I build you up, I see it. Then it disappears and comes back each time I do that to you.”
All the focus I’d had on leaning into that pull deep in my belly had evaporated at Hart’s words. This was sex.
This was just sex.
Why was Hart taking notice of things like that? Did he really get turned on by seeing my body react to what he was doing to me?
Maybe that was it.
Maybe it was the realization that he could have that kind of profound effect on me that turned him on so much.
For a fleeting moment, I wondered if that was how it always was for me. Or was it him? Was it only Hart that had my body reacting the way that it was?
My eyes roved over his face, taking in his expression. Maybe I was fooling myself, but I could have sworn I saw something there that I’d never seen before. I just wasn’t quite sure I knew what it meant.
Hart’s hand drifted back between my legs. He flattened his fingers against me and rubbed circles there.
My lips parted, heat flooding me.
As quickly as I could blink my eyes, Hart was able to have me breathing heavily and squirming with need.
“I’m going to play from time to time, Reagan, but I’m always going to take you there,” he promised, his voice a deep rumble. “Instead of fighting it, trust me and enjoy yourself. You know you love what you get in the end multiple times anyway.”
He wasn’t wrong about that.
I loved what I got from him every single time.
And technically, he wasn’t breaking any rules. Sure, he was sharing something I never expected I’d hear from him, but it wasn’t as though it didn’t technically apply to our arrangement. We had something physical between us, and he was telling me about something he liked.
It could have been worse.
So, I let go of the frustration, slid my hands into his hair, and urged his mouth to mine. Hart took me there within minutes of using his hand, before he lost control, flipped me over so I was on my knees, and drove into me hard from behind.
No sooner had he delivered a second orgasm to me and found his own release, he was standing in front of me as we both got ourselves dressed again.
It was just the way of it.
A comfortable routine we’d developed over the last few months. Hart visited randomly throughout the week during our lunch hour, so we could have some fun and connect, and then we both returned to our lives.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Then I heard something hit the floor.
My eyes darted to where Hart was standing beside my bed. He was bent down, reaching for something on the floor.
“What’s this?”
As he stood, I noticed he had my journal in his hands. Shifting my attention to the nightstand where it had been, I realized he must have accidentally knocked it off when he snatched up his phone and wallet.
“Um, I’m not sure I can answer that question.”
His brows pulled together. “You can’t answer the question? Why not?”
I crossed the room, a hint of a smile playing at my lips. I came to a stop just a few feet in front of him and allowed my gaze to linger on him. Eventually, I tipped my chin to the journal. “What do you think that is?”
Hart’s eyes shifted between it and me several times before he answered. “It looks like a diary to me.”
“I like to call it a journal.”
“Okay. So, do you write in this every night or something?”
I hesitated. Since when did he care to know anything about me? Since when was this anything other than sex and the occasional meaningless conversation about inconsequential things that never lasted more than a minute or two?
“Not every night, but multiple times a week,” I admitted.
He nodded with understanding. “What kind of things do you write about?”
I arched a brow. “Is that a serious question?”
“Yes.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I popped my hip to one side and narrowed my eyes. “You’re unbelievable. Do you know that?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you won’t even tell me what you do for a living, but you think I should be willing to share my innermost private thoughts with you?”
Understanding seemed to dawn in his expression, and I was grateful for it.
The reality was that if he pushed just a little bit harder for it, I might have shared some minor details with him. Obviously, I wouldn’t tell him anything too detailed, but I’d give him the general gist of the types of things I wrote about.
For months now, Hart had been doing such a great job of keeping his distance. Even though we got together regularly, he’d never allowed it to leak into anything more than that. But twice today, he’d slipped.
Twice he’d given me more than I would have expected from him.
Why was he showing interest? Was I making something out of nothing, or was there something deeper happening for him?
In a move I hadn’t been anticipating, one half of Hart’s mouth quirked. “You’ve written about me, haven’t you?”
My eyes rounded in disbelief. “What?”
He chuckled. “It’s okay. You could admit that much. I bet you write about our lunch breaks together.”
Rolling my eyes, I insisted, “I do not write about you.”
That was a lie.
And judging by the look on his face, Hart knew it.
He grinned and held the journal out to me. “Whatever you say.”
I took it from him. “It’s the truth. I write about things I don’t talk to anyone else about.”
“So, are you saying you talk to people about me and the things I do to your body in the middle of the day?”
“No!”
Where was this coming from? When did he suddenly become so chatty and, dare I admit it, playful?
Hart laughed again, leaned forward, and kissed my cheek. His lips lingered. “It’s okay to fantasize and write about it, shortcake. I won’t be mad. And if you decide to share those fantasies with me, I’ll be happy to indulge you.”
My knees wobbled.
But before I had the chance to respond, his phone rang.
I didn’t have to see his face or know who was calling to know this lighthearted moment with him was over. I could feel it in the change in the air and the way his body tensed.
“I’ve got to go.” His voice was hushed.
“Sure. Yeah. I’ll see you.”
“Follow me and lock up after I leave, okay?”
I nodded.
Then I followed him to the front door, doing it while wondering if I’d get more of this version of Hart the next time I saw him.