5. Maeve
I followJames’s Porsche Cayenne across the Ravenel Bridge, which spans the Cooper River. During the daytime, sprawling views of Charleston Harbor and the surrounding area are visible, but at night the bridge’s lighted structure is the star of the show.
The Moscow mule I drank and the nervous energy whirling around inside my stomach make me feel a bit unsettled and hot. I turn the air conditioning up, hoping it will cool me off.
I’ve never gone home with a man I just met, and I certainly haven’t gotten to know a stranger in the biblical sense. Not that I’m a prude or ashamed of my sexuality, I just haven’t felt the need to until now.
Once off the bridge, we follow Highway 17 North into Mount Pleasant. I don’t know much about this area, but the old, stately homes we’re driving by, paint an impressive picture.
After a couple of turns down a few narrow side streets, James pulls into a cobblestone driveway, and I follow, parking directly behind his SUV. Once I step from my car and close the door, I take a good look at the two-story cottage-style house. A well-lit porch stretches across the front and wraps around the side. The siding is painted beige, and the trim is crisp white.
James meets me at the front of my car and takes my hand, leading me up the driveway. Glancing over at the side view of his house, I realize it’s even more significant than I originally thought. We climb the steps to the porch, and he unlocks the door.
The first thing I notice when I pass over the threshold is a large glass pendant wrapped with brass that casts welcoming beams of light over the white walls and dark hardwood floors. The second is the console table where I place my phone and keys.
James locks up and turns to me with a smile. “Are you freaking out yet?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Surprisingly, no.”
“Good. Let me show you around.” He leads me through a doorway to the left, flipping on the overhead lights. “This is my home office.”
It’s extremely neat, not a single piece of paper on his desk.
“Do you use it much?”
“No. Not unless Gwen is home from school for a day. Otherwise, I prefer to go into the office.” I follow him through a second exit on the other side of the room. He flips more wall switches, lighting up a large living room. The fireplace with the flatscreen television mounted above immediately catches my attention. But as my eyes travel around the space and I take in all the architectural details like the crown moulding, built-in shelves, and window encasements, I realize every little detail works together to make this an elegant and comfortable home.
“Is orange your favorite color?” I ask, pointing to the area rug.
“Nope, that was my mom’s idea. I let her have free rein in decorating most of the house. Except for my office and bedroom.”
“She obviously knows what she’s doing,” I say.
“Yeah, she’s good at spending my money.” He chuckles. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen. I know open floor plans are popular, but one of my favorite things about this house is how there are open areas and some that aren’t.”
“What year was this house built?” I ask.
“Twenty years ago. But I had the kitchen and bathrooms renovated when we moved in five years ago.”
“With the attention paid to the moulding, I thought it might’ve been built in the nineteenth or early twentieth century,” I say.
“That was also my mom’s idea,” he explains. “So, this is the kitchen.”
My eyes bulge when I see the size of the room and the number of cabinets within.
“Wow. With a kitchen this beautiful, I hope you like to cook,” I say.
“I do my best. And my mom likes to feed us too.” He grins.
“Are you a momma’s boy?” I tease.
“No, that would be my brother, but we’re a tight-knit bunch. I’m blessed to have amazing parents.”
“That’s so nice. I’m close to mine too. They’re currently living in Sweden. My dad’s a guest professor.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen them in person?”
“About a year and a half.”
“Can I get you another drink or maybe something to eat?” he asks.
“Yes, please. A glass of water would be great.”
I watch him take a glass from one of the upper cabinets and fill it with water from a pitcher he removed from the fridge. He hands me the glass, and our fingers brush.
His body parts are about to be doing a lot more than brushing against me.
“Thank you,” I say. My hand trembles as I raise the glass to my lips, and I’m hoping he doesn’t notice. The cold, crisp water soothes my parched throat. “Would you like some?” I ask, extending my hand toward him. I don’t expect him to take the glass from me, so I’m surprised when he does. His gray eyes lock on mine as he raises it to his mouth and swallows down the remainder. He doesn’t look away as he places the empty glass on the granite counter, nor when he steps forward, gently invading my space.
He skims the back of his fingers down my cheek and along the curve of my chin, making my heart pound in a steady drumbeat.
“You’re absolutely stunning.” Starting at the corner of my mouth, his thumb slowly traces out the shape of my lips. “And I can’t hold off on kissing you any longer.”
He cups my jaw in his large hands, tipping my face upward as his lips descend toward mine. Time slows, and my eyelids fall closed just before the first touch of his lips. Soft as a whisper and much too brief, I long for more.
The next press of his lips lingers as he explores my mouth with tender reverence. He angles my head, taking control and deepening the kiss. His tongue sweeps in, caressing mine, igniting a spark of desire.
Flattening my palms on the hard planes of his chest, I slide them up, clutching his shoulders, and press myself into the heat and hardness of his body.
One of his arms moves down, wrapping around the small of my back, drawing me in closer. Our tongues tangle together in a frenzy of need. When we finally part, both our chests heave as we stare with wide-eyed surprise at each other.
“Goddamn,” he husks, his voice deep and gravelly.
Our kiss seems to have fried my brain. All I can manage is a brief nod of agreement.
He takes hold of my hand, leading me from the kitchen to the main hallway and up the stairs without a single word. After the kiss we just shared, I might be willing to follow him anywhere he wants.
James’s bedroom is the first room on the left side. When he taps a switch on the wall, the lamps on both nightstands turn on, lighting up his enormous bed and gray padded headboard.
Still holding my hand, he walks to the side of the bed and turns to me. “If you change your mind at any moment, I’ll stop, no questions asked.”
I nod. “Do I need a safe word?” I’m unfamiliar with one-night stand rules, but that’s how they handle it in books.
His eyes darken with heated interest. “Do you have a safe word?”
My gaze lowers, and I shake my head. My cheeks heat with embarrassment.
Why did I bring up a safe word?
He raises my chin with his knuckle until I meet his gaze. “Don’t be embarrassed. Does the idea of a safe word intrigue you?”
I nod without hesitation. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to need one.
“Tell me with words,” he prods.
“Yes, it does.”
His lips curve, and the thought of pleasing him sends a shiver up my spine. “Are you cold?” he asks.
“No. It’s from anticipation.”
His fingers go to the tie on the side of my blouse, undoing the bow I carefully fastened earlier. He parts the two sides, pushing the green material over my shoulders and down my arms. Shaking my hands, it free-falls to the floor behind me. As I stand still for his perusal, his eyes go to my pebbled nipples, clearly visible through my black silk tank top. He cups my breasts, sweeping his thumbs over the taut peaks. I hum my approval, and he does it again. This time I moan.
“I can’t wait to hear what you do when I bury my tongue in your pussy,” he says, making my knees weak.
Leaning into him, I say, “Me either.”
He grips the bottom of my tank top, slowly dragging it up my torso and over my head, then lets out a groan when he sees I’m naked beneath. “No bra. What a naughty girl.”
“I figured it was one less item to remove.”
“I like the way you think. Did you leave off your underwear too?” His smirk is wicked.
I shrug. “There’s only one way to find out.”
In two seconds flat, I’m lying on my back with him kneeling between my legs, hovering over me. I guess he took my challenge to heart.
He removes my high heels, tossing them one at a time over his shoulder.
“Mae, what’s your safe word?”
“Pizza.” I go with the first thing that comes to mind.
His lips quirk as if he’s fighting a smile. “If you want me to stop for any reason, you say ‘pizza.’ Got it?” He watches me intently, waiting for my confirmation.
“Yes, sir.”
He lets out a groan, and his head and shoulders disappear underneath my loose skirt. Warm hands glide up the inside of my thighs, spreading them wide, and then he rubs his face all over my satin-covered lady parts. “I was hoping you weren’t wearing panties, but these are soft. I bet your pussy’s even softer.”
Oh my God!
I hear him inhale deeply, then say, “You smell amazing.”
Am I supposed to thank him?
“I bet you taste even better,” he says right before I feel a tug and hear material ripping. And then his mouth is on me, his tongue circling my entrance before dipping inside, tasting me. “Mmm. So fucking good.”
I not only hear his words, I feel them in a place I’ve never felt a mouth before. But I still can’t see what he’s doing, and that only makes it hotter.
His tongue slicks between my lips, moving up to tease my clit. I moan loudly and raise my hips from the bed.
“You’re a greedy little thing.” He slips his arms underneath me, draping my legs over his shoulders. “I’ll take care of you,” he says, burying his face between my thighs.
He licks, sucks, and nibbles every inch of my pussy as if he’ll never tire of it. By the time he settles in on my clit, I’m already on edge. It only takes a few whisks of his tongue over the swollen flesh to make my legs start shaking. And another two until I’m crying out with my release.
James’s mouth gentles, coaxing every wave of my orgasm from me.
When his head pops out from under my skirt, his hair is tousled, and his lips are shiny with my cum. And I’ve never seen anything so sexy.
“I hope you’re okay with staying longer, because I’m nowhere near done with you,” he says.
“If your dick is as talented as your tongue, you might have a new roommate.”