Paige #2
“Oh, God, you’re big,” I say out loud before I can stop the words. My eyes snap up from my hand in his lap to his face and I catch the measured breath he takes.
“It’ll fit. You’ll see,” he grits out. The strain in his voice is a testament to whatever restraint he’s employing at the moment.
I move my hand around like a blind woman mapping a new room.
I’m looking for a beginning or an end, but I only feel solid flesh and heat through his slacks that don’t give me an idea of what he could look like, or how he could possibly fit inside of me the way he promised.
I press harder and he groans. The urge to crawl into his lap is so strong I actually do, moving my hand so I can straddle his legs on the edge of the bed as my slip rides up my thighs.
His hands rest lightly on my hips. “What are you doing to me, baby?”
I shake my head and slowly lower my center to rest on the bulge in his pants.
His hands grip me tightly as his head tips back and a hiss escapes his mouth.
My lady bits are pulsing, my whole body hot and ready to take over where my mind loses the ability to function. My hips rock once, gently, and I sigh.
“Why does that feel so good?”
Hayes moves one hand from my hip to my back and flips me onto the bed, his weight settling over me, the bulge I was just touching now snugly nestled between my legs.
My heart thumps heavily in my chest and my fingers tingle, but I’m not afraid of him in this moment.
He smooths hair out of my face and kisses my cheek before he moves his face next to mine with a deep inhale I can feel through my entire body.
I rub my cheek against his face like a cat and my hips rock up to rub against him.
He meets my body with his, grinding against my center, and I gasp.
I press harder, wrapping a leg around his hips to bring him closer.
I want more of that contact and he obliges, rolling his hips into mine in a rhythm that makes my gasps come quicker.
“Kiss me, please,” I beg softly. His mouth moves from my hair to my lips as he rises above me.
It changes the angle of our bodies just enough that when his tongue enters my mouth, I cry out as pleasure rocks me.
He swallows my whimpers of satisfaction as his hips continue to rub against me until I finally fall away from his kisses.
I lie languidly beneath him, basking in the afterglow until he stills.
“You’re going to be my undoing, baby.” He rolls off me, sitting at the edge of the bed, and breathes deeply.
I roll to my side to face him. “I really liked that.”
The pulsing has receded and I’m feeling more in control of my body now.
What I just did feels like a huge step forward.
I wanted Hayes and I took what I wanted.
I didn’t let my fears of inadequacy or not knowing what to do stop me, I just went with my instincts and it was so good.
Maybe I’ll be a quick learner and will figure out what he needs from me to be satisfied.
He leans over and touches his lips to mine.
I thread my fingers into his hair and keep him close before he can pull away, and the kiss deepens. I kiss him fiercely and hope it sears him the way it does me.
His hand traces up my throat until his fingers cup my jaw and he slows the intensity, reining it in so it’s soft and mellow. When he pulls away, my lips feel the loss and want more. He traces my bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes dark and fixed on my mouth.
“If I could get away with staying in this bed kissing you all day, I would.”
“You have to go, don’t you?” I brush the hair off his forehead and run my fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
He nods once. “But first I have to change my pants.”
I glance down and notice the wet spot on his pants. “I did that?” Mortification races hot through me and I cringe.
“We did. Bodies self-lubricate when turned on, and you’re very good at turning me on. I’m gonna have a hard time walking when I get up as I tell my dick to calm down and get to work.”
“Remember when I said I wouldn’t mind you leaving so much if you kissed me when you get home?”
He nods.
“It’s not true. I’m really bummed you’re leaving right now and want to beg you to stay, kiss be damned.”
He laughs. “Same page, same book.”
I make him honey garlic glazed salmon with jasmine rice and green beans and the kitchen is sparkling when I expect him to be home.
I sent Cerberus to his place as I cooked and cleaned so I wouldn’t end up battering him again and needing another shower this evening.
Not that I’m complaining because that allowed me to see Hayes shirtless and he let me feel his chest and abs without any barrier under my hands, but I don’t want him thinking I’m always making a mess.
Because it’s only most of the time, not always.
I’m lighting taper candles I found in a box in the back of a drawer, the table set so well my mama couldn’t even find fault, when I hear the door open and Cerberus whines from the mat in the kitchen.
“Honey, I’m home.” I hear from down the hall. It’s not even close to sounding like the fifties television phrase he stole it from. Instead, it sounds like more of a rumbled promise he intends to keep.
Hearing that phrase from him does silly things to my insides and gives me a major case of nervous butterflies. I smooth my hands over the white shirt I managed to keep stain-free during dinner prep and turn away from the table and start toward the hall to meet him.
“Go ahead, big guy,” I tell Cerberus with a smile. He sprints out of the kitchen. I follow, nearly as eager as the dog is to see Hayes. He gives the dog an affectionate scratch under his chin when Cerberus gets to him. He straightens up and continues down the hall, the giant black dog on his heels.
“Did you cook dinner again?” He looks into the kitchen, which is spotless, then looks toward the dining room where I lean against the doorframe.
“I have a handful of recipes under my belt and I plan to make as many as I can while you let me stay with you to show my immense gratitude.”
“Here I thought you were a hotel mogul in training, but you keep surprising me with your vast talents.”
I give him a patient look. “I’m a proper Southern lady.
I am incredibly talented and can do anything you can do, but backward and in heels,” I drawl.
“I could run a multi-million-dollar business by day, then cook you a gourmet dinner, entertain your work friends, and plan a charity function at night.” I laugh and shake my head, not even able to take myself seriously with that pitch that would have made Mama proud.
“Mmm,” he growls, stalking closer. “You really are the perfect woman.”
My laughter stops abruptly when he buries his hands in my hair and tips my head up, his mouth on mine in a hot second.
His kiss ravages my lips, his tongue sweeping against mine and leaving me breathless.
He uses his thumb to turn my face to the side and kisses along my jaw, making his way to the sensitive spot below my ear that I am only just now aware of.
Holy wow, the vibration of his exhale on my neck sends a shudder through me that makes my knees weak, which I always thought was just an expression used in Nanny Fairchild’s romance novels until this very moment.
One of his arms drops to my waist and pulls me tight against him, the entire length of our bodies touching as he nips at my earlobe.
“I could eat you for dinner, Miss Fairchild.” His voice is a rumble of pure sexiness.
My brain short circuits in that moment. I can’t think of a word to say and I make this humming noise in my throat that I hope conveys the appreciation for his masterful use of the art of seduction.
It works. I am so seduced and know what his bedroom voice sounds like.
I like it, maybe too much, as my panties grow damp and I squirm in his arms.
“I like when you make those noises. It makes me want to find out what others you will make when I have my mouth on you.” He grazes his teeth down the side of my neck.
“Do it again.” He bites the spot where my neck meets my shoulder and I moan.
Me. I just moaned. He licks over the light bite. “That’s my good girl.”
He gives me another bite-kiss on my neck and steps back, leaving me up on tiptoes, his shirt fisted in my hands keeping us connected.
When did I grab his shirt? I must have blacked out from the overstimulation of having Hayes hold me, kiss me, and talk to me like that.
I’m a live wire, an exposed nerve, all feeling and energy and nowhere for it to go except to course through my body in shivers and racing adrenaline.
I loosen my fingers and let my hands slide down his chest to his stomach and then, with a little regret, leave his body and return to my sides.
I’m still a little hazy and at a loss for words as he watches me with eyes smoldering and so deep green that they remind me of a jungle, wild and dangerous.
I take a deep breath to clear my nose of his manly scent, all expensive cologne and whatever he exudes that my body is hardwired to respond to, making me crazy for him.
This might be biology at work, but it doesn’t fully capture his allure and the attraction I feel for him. That is something else entirely.
“Y-you’re really good at that,” I croak, my voice as unsteady as my legs.
“That’s how I want to greet you every night you are here. You don’t even have to make dinner. In fact, I’ll take care of dinner the rest of the week, because I don’t want you thinking you have to lift a damn finger or earn your stay. You’re my guest, and I want you to feel comfortable here.”
“You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.” I don’t mean it as a joke, but I feel my smile pulling at the corners of my mouth anyway.