Chapter Thirteen
Spencer
Idon’t remember sex ever being this good.
Huh.
Maybe I should focus on that instead of my lackluster sex life to date.
Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.
I didn’t break. Far from it. On the heels of a mind-shattering blow-job-induced orgasm, I didn’t have huge expectations.
Refractory periods were a thing. But one look from Malik and I was hard as a rock.
As he fucked me, the need to come again overwhelmed me.
Sent me higher and higher as I fought the urge.
I didn’t want to come before him—that felt rude.
That said, I might not have a say in the matter.
He reached between our bodies and grasped my cock. Then he gave it a couple of tugs. “I need you to come.” He said the words through gritted teeth. His jerking my shaft met the rhythm of his thrusts as he nailed me. Over and over. Higher and higher.
My skin felt too tight, and electricity arced through me. The sensations overwhelmed and, eventually, holding back became impossible. “I’m going to come.” The words were garbled, even to my own ears.
“Thank fuck. Do it, sweetheart. Come for me.”
Even as I came—all over his hand, my stomach, and everywhere else—he continued his thrusts.
I soared into the air. The oxygen was stolen from my lungs.
My vision narrowed even as my rigid body began to relax.
I tingled everywhere as I tried to regulate my breathing.
Tried to come down from this potent high.
His expression was a mask of concentration. His brow furrowed. Sweat sheened across his forehead. I thought about wiping it off, but then he thrust once more and held himself still. He howled his release as he arched his neck and threw his head back.
I’d never had a lover react so violently. Never had someone push me so hard and high. My own climax had waned—and my cock was finally flaccid—but I still felt energized. Still wanted to stay connected like this forever.
Tires screeched.
Forever? What the hell? One good fuck does not equal forever.
Right. My interior monologue was right. I couldn’t possibly be in love. Not with a man who drove me to distraction in all the wrong ways.
He flopped onto me.
I held him tight. He might’ve been shorter, but he was solid.
Muscular. Probably heavier than me. In all the right ways.
I cradled his legs between my thighs as I wrapped my arms around him and held him close.
He slid from inside me, and that empty feeling hit hard.
I shouldn’t have been so needy—but I was.
I shouldn’t want to do this again—but I did.
As his breathing regulated, I grasped the back of his neck and held him close.
“You can touch my hair.” His tone was wry.
“I’d never touch without permission.” To me, hair was personal. That space that gave us freedom to express who we were.
“I just said you could. I don’t know why you’d want to. It’s rough.”
Experimentally, I touched. And yes, the hair was of a different texture than mine—slightly rougher and way curlier. On impulse, I grasped it and gave a little tug.
A shudder ran through his body. “Fuck, I love that so much. When someone pulls my hair, it makes me hard.”
I chuckled. “So soon? Oh, to be that young.”
He pressed his nose against me chin. Then he replaced the nuzzling with a light kiss. Finally, he bit. Not hard—but enough to get my attention.
“What did you do that for?”
“You’re not old, and even I can’t get hard thirty seconds after the best orgasm of my life.”
I couldn’t dissect his words with clarity.
Okay, he didn’t find me old. I did, but we could debate the point later.
He wasn’t going to get hard again in the next minute but, more importantly, he’d told me he loved having his hair pulled.
Definitely something to keep in mind for another day.
Best orgasm of my life. How was I supposed to respond?
That it had been the same for me? That I didn’t ever want to let him go—even though that made no sense?
For the first time, I became aware of the rain lashing against the window. “Well, appears the meteorologist was correct—that sounds like quite a storm.”
“You biked, right? I seem to remember…” He trailed off as if thinking rationally was beyond him.
I had sex brain as well. “Yeah. I just live over in Mount Pleasant, so I often bike.”
“Downhill on the way to work and uphill on the way home.” He said the words dryly.
“Yeah, pretty much. I often wind up showering when I get home—especially if the weather’s hot and muggy.”
“We’re into the end of October.”
“That we are.”
“What I’m trying to say is we can put your bike in the back of my SUV. I need to drop those CDs off at the café. Then I can drive you home.”
“I can take the bus. My bike’s safe here overnight.”
“Does the bus go from the door here to the door of your house?”
“My condo? Uh, no.”
“Then I’ll drive you. No sense you getting soaked.”
His bossiness was turning me on a little bit, which I found surprising. Especially since I’d come to work here, I’d taken a lot of pride in being responsible for everything. For everyone. Even Blossom—although she didn’t feel that way and certainly wouldn’t thank me for the idea.
Slowly, he disentangled himself from me and scooted off the couch. “Does this place have a shower? Because I think I stink, and I really don’t want to go into the café smelling like spunk.”
I burst out laughing. “I agree smelling like sex might be off-putting. Although, frankly, I think you smell good. I like your soap.”
He offered a grin. “All natural. I didn’t want to wear anything chemical around you.”
His words stunned. That he’d put so much effort into preventing me from getting a migraine. “I…uh…thank you.”
He dropped a kiss to my cheek. “You’re welcome. Now, shower?”
“Yes. Upstairs.”
“You joining me?”
I eyed him. “We’re just going to shower…right?”
His grin was wicked. “I’d be up for more…but I can behave.”
“Well, I appreciate that. Even though we’re alone, this is still my workplace. I’d feel awkward—” I gazed at my sweat-slicked spunk-smelling rosy-from-sex body. “Fuck it. If you can get up again, I’ll give you a blow job.”
He did.
I did.
Then he jerked me off because apparently me giving a blow job had me growing hard as well. Who knew giving pleasure would be so arousing? I hadn’t. I’d certainly never been aroused like that when I’d been sucking Paul off.
I resolutely put my ex out of my mind as we loaded my bike into the back of Malik’s SUV. Despite our best efforts, we were both soaked by the time we got in. He disregarded my concern over his leather seats and said something about it being his father’s old thing.
Admittedly, I didn’t know a whole lot about SUVs—but I recognized the high-end brand, the fact the vehicle was electric, and I couldn’t help but noticing how everything appeared new. Either he rarely used it or he took good care of it.
Despite my best efforts, my breath wound up fogging up the windows while he was in the café.
I was not going to think about him and Ty.
Just because the man was damn attractive, didn’t mean he slept with everyone he encountered—men or women.
My instinct said bisexual, although that might just have been because I’d spotted him with both genders.
Hell, he might even be pan or poly. I didn’t have a problem with either—people were free to love whoever they wanted.
He returned, hopped into the SUV, and started the engine with the defrost on high to clear the fog from the windows.
“Sorry.”
“No worries.” He grabbed a towel from the wheel well behind his seat. He made an attempt to dry his hair. It’d gotten wet during our shower as well.
He caught my gaze. “It’s going to be hell later. That’s why I just let it go natural with the curls. I’m too lazy to style it and put too much gunk in it.”
Experimentally, I touched it.
He arched an eyebrow.
I grasped the hair by the base of his neck and tugged.
He moaned. “Do that again and I’ll ask for another blow job right here and now.”
I glanced at the windows—now mostly clear. The rain still pelted down. I cocked my head,
“Yeah. Later.” He secured his seatbelt, put the SUV in Drive, checked over his shoulder, and entered into traffic. “Will you program the GPS? I should’ve asked for your address before.”
“You were busy.”
“Huh?” He executed a smooth right turn.
“With, you know, people.” I entered my address into his system.
“Left turn onto Main Street in one kilometer.” The computer voice spoke smoothly.
I jolted. “Is that…Irish?”
“Yep. You weren’t jealous, were you?”
“Of your sexy sounding GPS? No.” I could be obtuse when the situation called for it.
“I meant when I went into the café.”
“Why would I be jealous?”
He stopped at a red light and glanced over at me.
Those intense dark-brown eyes held me enthralled.
“Okay, maybe a bit.”
He grinned. “No reason to be. Ty is in a very interesting poly relationship with two, uh, interesting people.”
“Sounds like a lot of interesting.”
He guffawed. “True. I’ll admit the unconventionality makes me curious. I’ll also say I’m a one-person man. I’m big on monogamy. I demand the same from whomever I’m in a relationship with.”
The light turned green and, after looking both ways, he advanced into the intersection. Prudent, given the insanity of Vancouver drivers. And also because he’d lost his parents in a wreck and probably didn’t want to go through that.
As a cyclist who frequently had near-misses with drivers, I appreciated his caution. “Monogamy is good.”
“Did your ex cheat on you?”
“No.” I interlaced my fingers and tightened them.
“Are you lying to me?”
I cast a glance his way, even though his focus was on the road. “No, I’m not lying. I mean, I suppose Paul could’ve cheated on me. He—” I blew out a breath. “He was very career-focused. I was someone who might help him get ahead. Best I can figure, he wouldn’t have risked my ire.”
“Would you have been ire-ish?”
“No.” Even as I said the word emphatically, I considered. “Well, maybe. I thought we were in a long-term relationship, you know? We talked about marriage sometimes, but we were sort of vague about future plans. Just living for the moment.”
“Or so you told yourself.”
My breath caught. “Yeah, or so I told myself. It’s amazing how easy it can be to lie to ourselves.” I scratched my nose.
He executed the left turn onto Main Street. “Who broke it off?”
“He did. When I quit. He wanted a corporate boyfriend who could help him get ahead. I wanted dignity and self-respect. In the end, those two opposing forces were incompatible.” I laughed—harsh even to my own ears. “He secured my job for himself—quite a promotion.”
“And here you are.”
“And here I am.” I sniffed. “No regrets.”
“You sure?” He stopped at another red light.
Traffic was heavy with downtown commuters heading to the suburbs like rats scurrying off a sinking ship.
I’d been lucky enough to always live close enough to work so I didn’t have to do the commute rat race.
That also meant I’d work late without a second thought—what with work being just around the corner.
In retrospect, in that corporate job, I’d had very little differentiation between the personal and the professional.
Which was probably how Paul slotted himself into my life so easily.
His ambition was greater than my own, but I admired that.
He didn’t report to me, so us dating wasn’t a big deal.
Interesting, though, how he’d suggested we keep it under wraps.
Smart, really.
Because when I took a moral stance on the falsification of data—and had quit—he hadn’t been tainted by association. Instead, he’d stayed to clean up the mess and to help the company attempt to rehabilitate its reputation.
None of that impressed me.
Good riddance. “Yes, I’m certain it’s good riddance. He was a mistake—I just didn’t see it at the time. But I do now.”
“Well, better late than never, right?”
“Something like that.” In Paul’s case it would have been better to have never gotten involved with him. Instead to have chosen someone completely outside the corporate realm. Hell, beyond the legal profession would’ve been an even better choice.
Except, if I’d done any of that, then I would likely not be sitting in this SUV, on this particular day, with this amazing man.
Yes, grudgingly I was willing to admit I might’ve been off base in my assumptions about him.
A little bit, anyway.
He still had a way to go before I was willing to admit he was a true believer. “Do you have rehearsal tonight?”
With only the slightest hesitation at the amber light, he ensured oncoming traffic was stopped, and he eased us onto East 2nd and began the slow ascent. He’d cut across Brunswick, shimmy across East 5th, and then take St. Georges Street to East 6th. We’d be at my place in no time at all.
Now or never. “Do you want to come up?”
“Huh?” He executed the next turn smoothly.
I cleared my throat. “Would you like to come up? I mean, it’s not great or anything—”
“Way to temper a guy’s expectations.” He made the next turn.
“And I have a stubborn cat. If you’re, like, allergic or something.”
“I’m not.” He turned onto my street.
“In one hundred meters, your destination will be on your left.”
I let out a long breath. “I’m asking you to come up if you’re interested. If you’re not, then I’m happy to thank you for the ride, grab my bike, and head inside.”
The rain had lessened a bit.
A very little bit.
“What’s your cat’s name?”
“Huh?” I rubbed my forehead. “Oh… Moses.”
He chuckled. “I bet there’s a story behind that name.”
“There is.”
“Then I accept. I can meet Moses and hear the story behind his name.” He offered me a wicked grin.
“I’ll give you the code for the parking garage.”