Chapter 38
Tabitha
“Hold on to me,” he said, grasping my hips and anchoring one of my legs over his shoulder.
I swayed and clutched at his broad shoulders as he stroked and licked and caressed the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, and then he trailed a teasing finger around the hem of my satin underwear.
Those clever fingers traced back and forth until my thighs quivered, and I whimpered from the deliciousness of his touch.
With a groan, he hooked his thumbs into the lace of my underwear and tugged them down.
He helped me lower my leg, because I was swaying, and pulled them off me.
Immediately, his mouth and tongue were on me, swiping, pressing, lavishing, finding different angles.
I was making noises, strangled cries, sighs, and moans that were almost embarrassing.
My nails gripped into his back. I gasped and moaned louder and louder until I couldn’t care whether anything that came out of my mouth was embarrassing or not.
This was so good because of him. I’d never been so utterly comfortable with anyone the way I was with him, allowing me to let go.
Every nerve ending was live, on fire. His dexterous fingers and tongue swirled and teased every inch of me, and my breathing became short and shallow gasps. Sweet and slippery, this feeling built and built then surged into one powerful release that rocked me relentlessly.
“Oh God, Tim. I, you—oh!”
He kept going until, dazed and tingling, I sank to my knees in front of him on the floor.
Heart still pounding, I slid my hands into his hair, cool and soft, falling into him, my body pliant and lost to this remarkable man. He pulled me up closer to the urgent pressure of his mouth, devouring me in a passionate kiss.
With one smooth movement, he scooped me up, carried me around the bed, and laid me down.
He ripped off his boxer briefs and climbed over me.
His forearms caged me in, his face over mine, and then he crushed his mouth against mine.
My hips reached up, grinding into his as he lowered his hips just so.
His hard male body rubbed against mine, the friction of his legs, rough with his coarse hair, stretching and bending against mine, each of us digging into the mattress to get closer to each other.
“Do you have a condom?” I asked against his lips.
“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed. “I wasn’t expecting us to have sex, but I was being hopeful, so I’m prepared.” He reached into his gym bag next to the bed and pulled one out, showed it to me, ripped it, and put it on.
“I’m still on the pill,” I said. “So, I guess we’re both prepared.”
“Okay?” he asked as he settled again over me and positioned himself at my entrance.
I nodded, feeling so much trust and confidence with Tim. What happened in our twenties when we were both young and maturing was in the past. How different he was now. And he was different from any man I’d ever been with. From here on out, I surrendered myself totally to him.
I cried out as we met, the sound elongating with his slow gliding in and out. But I needed more. I pushed against him to go faster, but just as my body became a quivering pulse, my hands gripping the sheets, preparing for something harder and faster, he almost pulled out.
I was breathless and motionless. He started again, the slow gliding until I was almost screaming, my hands gripping the sheets.
Then he pulled out again.
He kept repeating this exquisite torture until I rocked against him, moaning out, “Tim, don’t tease me. Harder. Now. Please.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Chuckling, he spread his hands along my lower back and lifted my hips into a position I’d never been in before. He pulled one of my legs around his waist and twisted his hips.
“What should I do?” I asked.
“Don’t do anything. Just feel,” he said, placing a thumb between us, right where I needed pressure the most.
I gazed into his eyes, and the world retreated until he was all I could see. His face, his eyes, our bodies joined, warm and sensuous and wonderful, and just so right.
Then he moved his whole body in a thrust. And again. This felt different, deeper and almost jarring, jolting my nerves into high alert.
With every thrust, together, we traveled up the bed. The tension mounted with each drive. I linked my ankles tightly behind his back, grinding my heels into his vertebrae. My fingernails dug into his skin.
He grabbed my hips and started pounding. Wow.
“Yes, there,” I cried out. “Right there.”
With a grunt of recognition, he drove on and on, his mouth pulled back in an emotion that seemed almost painful, until an indescribable coiling shot through me and down my shaking legs.
We both cried out louder until he growled, swearing at the force of his release. Eventually, our groans subsided, and he sank down onto me.
I was totally ruined for all other men.
He eased himself out of me. A soft kiss later, he got up to dispose of the condom and returned quickly. Back in bed, he pulled me to his sweaty body. He stared up at the ceiling and then turned his head to me on the pillow.
“I don’t think we need to go to the gym tomorrow,” he said with a smile in his voice.
I chuckled.
“Hey.” His voice turned a bit serious as he trailed his fingers down my side. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
The best? Really? Was that true?
“Me too,” I said. Okay, I had to do better than that. “You made good on your promise. That was much better than the ganache. You’ve got some moves, Tim.”
“That was all you. You were amazing.”
I was pretty sure that wasn’t entirely the truth, but I loved that he said it, and it encouraged me to confide. I sighed. But two orgasms. Two. I’d never even had one during sex. “I thought that was a myth.”
“What was a myth?”
“The G-spot and multiple orgasms.”
He chuckled, and I snuggled closer into his arms, content. Until I started thinking about what would happen now, whether I should stay the night, and how we’d act when we woke up.
“We’ve got all night,” he said, as though he knew what my mind was churning. “Rest, and maybe we should try some more bedsport later.” But his stomach growled. “Although, I’m starving. I was too nervous to eat at dinner.”
“Oh, we left our boxes of food on the table downstairs. Not that I minded our rush,” I added. “But I’m hungry too.” I hadn’t even eaten my salad either.
“Well, we’ve worked up an appetite. Should we order room service?”
I nodded, and he grabbed one of the menus. We surveyed it together, a sheet pulled up to my chest. “Would it be really gross to order a burger and fries?” I asked.
“Nah. I feel very good about that decision.”
Tim ordered on the phone, and then he pulled me over to his chest, and we snuggled and giggled while our stomachs growled, which we decided was like whales talking to each other.
When the food arrived, we both dug in like we hadn’t eaten in days.
“Mmm, something about watching you eating makes me ravenous…for you,” Tim said, holding out a particularly chunky fry.
We both laughed and ate, and he kissed my salty lips between bites.
Once we were finished, Tim grabbed a dressing gown, pulled it on, stacked the plates on the trolley and wheeled it out to the hallway.
He dropped his dressing gown at the foot of the bed and crawled up the bed toward me, already hard, with a determined look in his eyes, until all that muscle and broadness was hovered over me.
I reached up and felt his dense shoulder muscles rippling under my palm.
“You know what?” I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. I clasped his hands over his head and nuzzled his neck. “I’m in charge this time, so just lie there.”
He bucked his hips against me. “Fuck yeah, back to bossy Tabitha. I like it.”
I liked him calling me bossy in this situation, and I was determined to show him exactly how bossy I could be.
Perry had never wanted me taking control, but with Tim beneath me, pushing up against me, looking at me as though I was his everything, and worshipping my body with his deft fingers and tongue, I felt powerful. Sexy. Alluring.
Afterward, he pulled me against him, and I snuggled back into him.
“I think I might be quite good at this sex thing after all,” I said, my body blissful and singing from all the scrapes of his scruff and sweat.
He chuckled. “Hate to say it, but I told you so.”
I gave him a playful kick in the shins.
“Ow! Oh jeez,” he said, reaching under the covers. “Your kick is more painful than bloody Fitzy, and he’s got about a thousand pounds on you and twelve inches.”
“Fitzy, your little rugby friend?”
“Little, ha! And when I’m not cutting him down to size, my little sister has to do it.”
“A true love story.”
He smiled at me. That reminded me of when we were twenty-five and Tim dodged a commitment to me. I pushed that worry away and reminded myself that he promised to be different, and I promised to give him a chance.
“Anyway,” he said, very casually. “I’ll be facing Fitzy at the game tomorrow night.” Simon had told us viewers would want to see some B-roll footage of us outside the house in the real world, and that this rugby game would be perfect, so we’d be filmed there tomorrow evening.
Tim turned and checked his phone on his bedside table.
“Oh my God, it’s three thirty. I guess we’re going to rugby tonight.”
I blinked, shocked I wasn’t exhausted. Our time had flashed by, and I didn’t even want to think about how I was going to get through a busy workday tomorrow, then train it up to the Cotswolds for the game. But even that didn’t eat into this bliss I was feeling.
“I’ve only got two hours before I have to get up and drive back.” He traced the line of my profile—forehead, nose, and lips. “And you’ve got work today too. We’d better get some sleep.” He bopped me on the nose. “Did you bring one of those flowery tent-sized nightgowns to snuggle into?”
“That’s only at my parents’ house. Normally, I sleep like this.”
He sucked in a breath. “Mmm, I like the sound of that, Tabitha. Gives me some motivation to get through today.”
But what would happen when we were around other people?
Would this bubble burst? Should we talk about that here?
Tim yawned and sank into his pillows. We were both exhausted, needing sleep, and anyway, he’d said what I needed to hear at the beginning of the night, downstairs in the restaurant.
He’d show up. And he’d stay. I wanted to take him at his word and have faith.
As I fell asleep, I gave myself a good talking-to. This is the best night of your life, Tabitha Balfour. Don’t make it weird by overthinking this and second-guessing his motivation. He’d told me how he’d felt and followed it up with all this spectacular sweaty stuff between the sheets.
Let it be.