9. Maeve
James falls to his back,his arms flopping to each side of his still frame. I crawl up to lie on my side and prod his chest. “Are you alive?”
He grunts. “Barely. I think you may have just sucked me to paralysis.”
I tap my fingers against his chest. “What can I say? I forgot you’re an old man.”
He opens one eye, looking at me. “I’ll prove how young I am. I just might need to rest first.” His lips curve into a smile, and I laugh.
He curls his arm around my shoulders, drawing me closer. Resting my cheek on his chest, I slide my hand onto his flat stomach.
Being held by him is nice—actually, it’s more than nice. We fit together just right. This may only be the second time we’ve hooked up, but it feels like I belong in his arms. But that’s crazy, and I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.
Whatever this is, it needs to stay casual.
For all I know, this might be the only time we lie together like this. I can’t get attached to someone who’s not looking for a relationship. Then again, neither am I. Or so I thought.
Maybe I’m just getting a little carried away and romanticizing what amounts to powerful chemistry and some earth-shattering orgasms.
His fingertips skim along the curve of my waist while the steady beat of his heart drums beneath my ear. The combination of the two relaxes me, and my eyelids fall closed while I savor everything about this moment.
* * *
Something hot and wet tugs at one of my nipples, dragging me from my slumber. A large hand cups my other breast, fingers pinching and rolling the taut peak.
My lashes fluttering, I struggle to open my eyes.
James releases my nipple from his mouth with a pop and smiles devilishly down at me. “Time to wake up, Sunshine.”
“What time is it?”
“One in the morning.”
I gasp and try to sit up, but he’s lying over me. “I need to go.”
He chuckles. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“James, I’m serious. I need to get home to bed.”
“You’re in bed.”
I stare stonily at him. “You know what I mean.”
“You’re not leaving until I fuck you… and you come at least once more. What do you say to that?”
I might be able to stay a little longer.
“Yes, sir.”
He groans, burying his face against my neck.
“I’ve been watching you for the past ten minutes and imagining what I’m going to do to you. I need to get inside you.” His lips and tongue feather over my skin, raising goose bumps. “I need to feel your tight cunt around my cock.”
Threading my fingers into his hair, I tug the longer strands on the top of his head and urge him to bring his lips upward to meet mine.
His fingers plunge inside me at the same time his tongue thrusts between my parted lips. I moan into his mouth and rock my hips as his fingers move in the same coaxing motion that made me soak the comforter earlier.
He growls. “Such a good girl.”
I don’t know why his praise is so hot, but it’s fucking working. I want to be a good girl for him. I want to please him.
He leans over to grab a condom, and my hand slides down to rub my clit. He works the sheath down his shaft and then kneels between my thighs. His gaze locks on my swirling fingers before he pushes my thighs toward my chest.
He grips his length, rubbing the head back and forth between my lips.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you feel me for days.” His cock thrusts into me like the exclamation point after his warning.
I suck in a breath, and before I can adjust to the size of the welcome intrusion, he thrusts again. And then he doesn’t stop.
“Keep working your clit,” he orders. I quickly comply, working the pad of my middle finger over and around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
He grabs each of my ass cheeks while he continues pistoning his hips. His eyes zero in on the place we’re joined together. “Your pussy looks incredible taking my cock.”
My view isn’t as clear as his, but what I can see is sexy as fuck. Not to mention his corded biceps and rippling stomach muscles.
And when I glance up at his face, I’m surprised by the intensity I find in the steely depths of his gaze. And like a fly caught in a spider’s web, I can’t seem to look away.
“Are you gonna come for me like a good girl?” he husks.
“Yes… sir,” I answer, my fingers strumming my clit as an orgasm fires to life in my center.
I’m so close.
He moves his hands up, clutching behind my knees as his thrusts shift to a rapid-fire pace.
A pulsating throb of ecstasy starts between my legs, increasingly intensifying until pleasure engulfs me.
“James,” I call out as tremors tear through me.
His rhythm changes as his climax creeps up, with the final few pumps being erratic. His fingers digging into my skin, he holds on to me. All his muscles go rigid, and he moans my name.
He holds still for a few moments before withdrawing from me. He falls to the mattress beside me with a groan. He grabs a bunch of tissues from the nightstand and places the condom inside. “Sunshine, you’re so fucking sexy,” he says.
Turning onto my side, I prop my head on my fist. “Sunshine?” I raise an eyebrow.
He smirks. “Your hair’s so golden and shiny; you remind me of sunshine.”
“Aww, that’s sweet. I kind of like it.”
But not as much as I like when he calls me good girl.
“Aren’t you glad I made you stay later than you wanted?” he asks.
My lips quirk. “Maybe,” I tease. “But I do need to head home.”
He takes hold of my free hand, threading our fingers together. “You can’t go until you promise we can do this again.”
Should we, though?
I want to agree, but I don’t want to grow too attached to him. Or to the amazing sex we’re having. He’ll ruin me for other men.
Hell, he probably already has.
“Mae?” He drags me from my introspection.
“Sorry. I was thinking.”
“What’s there to think about? Don’t you want to do more of this?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“But?” he prods.
“This was only supposed to be a onetime hookup, but now it’s been a two-time hookup, and you want to add a third time.”
“And maybe even a fourth or fifth.” He exaggerates a gasp and covers his mouth, playfully mocking my concern.
I roll my eyes. “I’ll agree to once more and then we’ll have to reevaluate. That’s the best I can offer.”
“Okay,” he quickly agrees. “I have Gwen for part of this weekend and Monday. Why don’t we plan for Tuesday night at seven? You come over, and I’ll feed you this time, and I don’t mean my cock.”
I laugh. “That works.”
“What would you like for dinner?” he asks.
“Hmm. How about Chinese food?”
“Anything particular you want me to order?”
“Chicken lo mein, fried rice, chicken fingers, crab rangoon?—”
“I’ll get a bunch of stuff,” he cuts in.
I try to tug my hand from his, but he doesn’t release his hold. “James, I have to go.”
“I know you do. I just want to hold you before you go.” He turns to his side, drawing me into his arms. With my face buried against his chest, the sparse hairs tickle my nose.
With every breath, I inhale the masculine scent of his body wash. His hands caress up and down my spine, but when they roam lower, cupping my ass, I realize if I don’t get up from this bed right this moment, he’ll easily persuade me to stay.
Rolling away from his arms, I spring to my feet and collect my discarded clothing from the floor.
“Dammit. You’re really leaving?”
“Yep.” I draw my leggings on. “I wouldn’t have time to go home and get ready before work. Plus, I’d be stuck in traffic and stressed out. I don’t want to start my day off negatively.”
He climbs from the bed and tugs on his boxer briefs. It’s all I can do to drag my eyes from his impressive naked torso and finish putting my clothes on.
The next time I glance at him, he’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, but he’s sockless. For the first time in my life, I find a man’s feet attractive, and I don’t know what to make of it.
Maybe being with him has broken my brain because I’ve always thought men’s feet are notoriously gross.
“Why are you staring at my feet?”
Dammit, he noticed. I search my mind for an excuse but decide to be truthful.
“You have nice feet for a guy.”
He laughs a little too hard, leaving me questioning why he found what I said so amusing.
“I’m laughing because I asked Gwen what she wanted us to do last weekend, and she chose to get pedicures.”
“So you had one too?” I ask, and he nods.
Cue my ovaries exploding.
“I want to spend time with my daughter, and if that means soaking my feet and having someone clip my toenails, then so be it. And one of the advantages of getting the pedicures was that Gwen was trapped next to me for the duration. It was a great opportunity for us to talk.”
“You might be the coolest dad in the world.”
“I don’t think that’s the case. In fact, a lot of the time, it feels like I’m the opposite.”
“I admire your effort. You could’ve easily had her mom take her for a pedicure instead.”
“I’ll do just about anything if it makes Gwen happy.”
Jesus. I need to leave before I ask him to marry me.
“Come on, I’ll walk you out,” he says, gesturing for me to precede him. When we get to the bottom of the staircase, he leads me through the living room and part of the kitchen to the side door, and I realize I don’t have my keys.
“I think I left my keys on your porch.”
“No worries; this is a quiet neighborhood.” He pushes his feet into a pair of slides lined up neatly beside the door. Next to them is a smaller, sparkly pink pair.
I find my keys on the teak coffee table where I left them.
“See, no worries,” he says, smiling.
My hand ends up in his as we walk down the stairs and over to my car. I spin around, smiling up at him. “I had a nice night.”
His lips part, showing off his straight teeth. “So did I.” His fingers curve around my chin as he leans in, pressing his lips to mine for a soft kiss. As brief as it may be, I’m currently questioning my reasons for leaving.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” he asks, his lips curving mischievously.
My body screams to stay, and my brain tells me to leave. I’ve always tried to do the right thing, and in this case, it’s no different.
“As tempting as your offer is, I need to get home.”
“All right.” He opens the door for me, and I lower inside. “Before you go, I’d like your phone number.”
Plucking my phone from the cup holder, I hand it over to him. “Call yourself.”
“You don’t have a code on your phone?” he asks.
I shake my head. “There’s nothing in there that I’d care if anyone saw.”
He taps the screen for a bit before handing it back to me. “I’d rather text you than have to communicate on Finder.”
“Sounds good.”
“Drive safe, Mae.”
“I will.”
He closes my door and backs away as I start my car. I give a quick wave before backing from his driveway. And just like the first night, I beep the horn as I drive off. But this time I know we’ll see each other again. And damned if I’m not already looking forward to it.