Flying

by Megan Hart

  “Just with me?”

  He sounded as if he was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else there. Jealousy? Insecurity? Stella pressed her teeth against his flesh, not quite biting, then kissed him before looking into his eyes. “Just with you.”

  It wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t been with another man since meeting him. Couldn’t imagine it, actually. And this thought, that it wasn’t that she hadn’t met anyone but that she’d stopped looking, made Stella sit up.

  “I need a drink of water,” she told him, then kissed him to take away anything sudden or strange about how fast she needed to get away from him in that moment. “And some lunch. Can we order something in?”

  “Of course.” Matthew watched her get up. His hair was endearingly rumpled. He adjusted himself in his jeans, and Stella thought about getting on her knees for him.

  Taking him in her mouth. Giving him what he’d so generously given her. She wanted to make him feel good too. But something stopped her, and it wasn’t selfishness but self-preservation at the moment. She needed to get herself under control.

  Matthew didn’t seem put out. He got to his feet and pulled her close for a brushing kiss, then looked into her eyes. Stella cut her gaze from his, unable to face him with what she knew must be her every emotion all over her face.

  “Hey,” he said quietly, and waited until she looked at him. “You okay?”

  She forced a smile. Fake it till you make it. “Yes. Yep, absolutely. Starving, though. Too much champagne, too early. I’m ready to fall asleep too.”

  He grinned at that, hands sliding down to grip her ass. “I can wake you up.”

  “Feed me first,” she told him, relaxing into his embrace, “and we’ll see what happens next.”

  They decided on sandwiches from the insanely delicious deli around the corner. One problem—their delivery guy was out sick. But Matthew, hunching into a sweatshirt and leather jacket overtop, promised to be back in twenty minutes, and Stella, happy he was willing to go out into the rainy spring chill and even more grateful to have some time alone to compose herself, kissed him at the door.

  “Hurry back,” she said.

  Ten minutes later as she hummed to herself in the kitchen, heating up some water for tea that might chase the chill from her bones, the front door opened.

  Two minutes after that, shit hit the fan.

  “Who’re you?” said the little girl with Matthew’s eyes and a mop of tangled dark hair. “Mom! There’s a lady in Dad’s kitchen.”

  Oh.

  Fuck.

  * * *

  Caroline looked almost exactly the way she did in the wedding picture Matthew had never deleted off his Connex photo album. Ash-blond with dark roots and dark eyes. Subtle makeup. She wore a sleek pair of capri-length yoga pants and a matching slim-fit hoodie sweatshirt. Perfect soccer mom...except for her expression, which was that of a woman who’d just stepped in an enormous, steaming pile of dog crap.

  “Hi,” Stella said when Caroline simply stared. “I’m Stella. A friend of Matthew’s. You must be Caroline. And you,” she said to the little girl, “must be Beatrice. And Louisa.”

  The older girl standing beside her mother gave Stella a long, careful look. “Where’s my dad?”

  Stella waited for Caroline to say something. Anything. But the other woman only stared with her lip curling.

  “He ran out to get some lunch.” Don’t fidget, Stella told herself, trying desperately to think if she’d buttoned her blouse all the way, if her hair was sex-mussed, if her mouth looked as though she’d been kissing for an hour. If the stink of sex clouded her like perfume.

  “He didn’t tell me he had...company.” Caroline spoke at last. Her gaze swept Stella up and down in that way women have with each other that’s supposed to leave scars.

  Stella gave Caroline the blandest smile she could. Not in front of the kids, she thought. Don’t you dare. “He didn’t mention that you’d be stopping by.”

  Because, of course, Caroline hadn’t called ahead. Because she hadn’t been invited. Because Matthew’s ex-wife felt so comfortable in his new apartment that she could walk right in, Stella thought with another neutral smile designed not to taunt.

  “We were heading to the movies and the girls wanted to see if their father wanted to come along.” Caroline’s chin lifted, just a little bit.

  “Ah.” Stella smiled warmly at the girls, who were still staring at her, though without the suppressed bitterness their mother had. Nope, Louisa and Beatrice were full-on glaring their hostility at her. “I’m sure that would’ve been fun.”

  “We only want him,” Beatrice said. “Not you.”

  Stella’s smile didn’t waver. Behind her, the teakettle hissed, and she turned to take it off the heat and turn off the burner. She pulled open the cupboard and found a mug, then a second she held up toward Caroline, who blanched, then shook her head. With another small smile, Stella put the rejected offer on the counter and found the teabags. She poured hot water into her mug, too aware of the weight of three sets of angry female eyes on her back as she did. Finally she turned around, mug in her hands. She leaned against the counter.

  “He should be back soon,” she said. “You’re welcome to wait.”

  Caroline’s eyes said it all. Of course she was welcome to wait in her ex-husband’s kitchen, and she didn’t need permission either. Stella sipped the hot tea, risking a burned tongue rather than an embittered one.

  “Hey, I bring you food—” Matthew stopped in the doorway, brown paper bags held high. “Caroline?”

  The girls ran squealing to him, and he put the food down to hug them. Over the tops of their heads, he caught Stella’s gaze. She couldn’t read his expression, but she took another sip of tea before putting the mug in the sink.

  “Excuse me, I need to check my email.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it aloft. Without another word of apology or explanation, because fuck that, she pushed past Matthew and went down the hall into his bedroom.

  Ten minutes later, he came in to find her propped on the bed playing an intense round of Diamond Dash. “Just a minute,” she said mildly. “Let me beat this level.”

  “Stella...”

  She let the time run out and tucked her phone back into her pocket to give him a look. Matthew ran a hand over his head, then rubbed at his mouth. He came closer and sat on the bed, but didn’t touch her.

  “The girls...” he began, and trailed off.

  Stella raised both eyebrows. When he didn’t say anything else, she drew her knees to her chest and linked her fingers together. “You’re not going to the movies with them.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Are you?” Stella shook her head, stunned. She was halfway off the bed before Matthew grabbed her wrist.

  “No! Stella, sit down. Please.”

  She did, but gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “She walks into your house like she owns it. Or at the very least, like she lives here. And she had no idea I was here. Or that there was even a...me. Which, okay, fine, you don’t want to rub it in her face or something, but, Jesus, Matthew. You might want to fucking give her a clue that you’re dating. Or that you’re not available on the weekends when I’m here. Something. She walked into that kitchen and looked like I’d stabbed her in the throat.”

  Stella paused, frowning, then said softer, “And your kids, Matthew. That’s not the way I would’ve liked to be introduced to them either.”

  “I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry. Or chastened. He sounded defensive, which made Stella sigh.

  “You haven’t told her you’re dating?”

  He made a low noise. “I’m not dating.”

  “No. I guess you’re not. You’re just fucking me every few weeks.” She yanked her wrist from his grasp, but his arms were longer, a
nd he snagged her shirtsleeve again as she moved away. He didn’t try to hold her, not when she pulled again, but it did stop her.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “Actually,” Stella said, “I don’t know it.”

  They stared at each other, awkward silence rising between them.

  “I’m not sure what you want from me,” he said finally.

  There it was, the inevitable. Stella sighed and shook her head. “You know what I want from you, Matthew? Just don’t be a dick to me. Really, that’s all I ask. Don’t be a dick.”

  He blinked and recoiled slightly but didn’t say anything.

  Stella’s chin lifted. Jaw tight. Keeping her voice as neutral as she could, she said, “Look. I don’t have any grand notions about what this is, okay? We’re both grown-ups. We get along. We like fucking. There doesn’t have to be... This doesn’t have to mean...”

  Her voice cracked and she cut herself off before she could embarrass herself with breaking down. This had been a cluster fuck of a day already. She didn’t need it to spiral into anything else.

  Matthew’s phone chimed. He put his hand automatically to his pocket, but then stopped himself. It chimed again.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  “It’s Caroline.”

  Stella crossed her arms and cocked a hip, giving him a look. Matthew looked back. The phone chimed again with another text.

  “I’m sorry,” Matthew said. “Stella, I feel like I say I’m sorry to you an awful lot.”

  Her stance softened. “Do you think I’m demanding?”

  “No,” he said, but with enough of a hesitation that she thought he might not be telling the whole truth.

  The first step toward him was the hardest, but she made herself take it. Then another, and a third until she sat on the bed next to him. They were close enough that she could shift a bit and touch him, but she didn’t.

  “I like you, Matthew.”

  “I like you too.”

  There was something important she needed to say, if she could find the words to express it. If she wanted to try. It would be easier to walk out the door now instead. Leave him behind.

  “I don’t think there’s a point in playing games,” Stella said. “You know, those dating games, where I play coy and you have to chase me. Or where I expect you to guess what I’m thinking or feeling, or what I want from you. Whatever this is, I like it, and I’d like to keep doing it.”

  “Me too,” Matthew said.

  She looked at him. “What is this, Matthew?”

  “I don’t know. What do you think it is?”

  “Good sex.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Good food. Fun. We have great conversations. You make me laugh. I like the way we fit together.”

  Matthew chuckled softly. “I like that too.”

  “Look. We don’t have to put a name on this. I’m okay with that. But I’m not okay with being a dirty secret. It’s early to be part of your life with your kids, and I surely don’t expect you to have me over for the holidays—”

  “What if I wanted to?”

  She let her knee press his for a second or two. “We could talk about it. If you really wanted that.”

  “You’re not a dirty secret, Stella. I just didn’t know how to tell her.”

  “And she clearly has no boundaries,” Stella said. “You might want to think about that.”

  Matthew frowned.

  “I should never have to guess how you feel about me, or how important I am to you, Matthew. Not as a lover or fuck buddy or a friend or anything else. And I don’t need to settle for not being important.”

  His scowl eased into something softer. “I’m not that great with expressing myself. It’s one of the reasons why she left me.”

  Caroline might’ve divorced him, but she’d far from left him, Stella thought but didn’t point out. She put her other hand on his other arm, gripping both his biceps lightly. She went on her tiptoes to kiss him, offering her mouth but letting him close the gap. He did, thank God, the kiss brief and sweet.

  “You never have to tell me how you feel about me, so long as you never make me guess.” She kissed him again, murmuring against his lips.

  His arms went around her, pulling her close. The kiss got deeper. His hand curved around the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. They kissed harder while he walked her back toward the bed and laid her down, then covered her with his body.

  But this time, Stella rolled over to straddle him. Breathing hard, she ran her hands up his body over his shirt. Then under it, feeling his warm skin. She let her nails scrape him lightly and smiled when he twitched.

  Bending, she kissed him while she worked open his buttons. She nibbled his jaw, then his throat. His collarbones. Opening his shirt, she moved her mouth down his chest, taking her time to run her tongue around his nipple, which tightened nicely under her attentions.

  He didn’t say anything, but she loved the rise and fall of his chest with his breathing. The low rasp in the back of his throat when she nipped at his hipbone. When she moved lower to rub his thickening cock through the denim, she loved watching the way his mouth twisted and his eyes closed.

  Stella unzipped his jeans and tugged them open, then found his erection through the soft fabric of his briefs. She stroked him, watching his face. His mouth parted, his tongue swiping lightly along his lower lip before he bit it. His cock edged its way from his waistband, and she let her fingertips stroke him, just a little, loving how his hips bucked.

  She moved lower, letting her tongue flicker along the exposed flesh. “Shhh,” she said against him when he started to talk.

  Slowly, she worked his jeans and briefs down his thighs, then off. She took a few seconds to admire him—that lovely cock, so hard. She stroked him, but when he arched into her touch, she stopped and bit her lip on a smile at his muttered groan of frustration. This was going to be...fun.

  So the morning had started off all wrong, but this felt right. Taking her time, Stella moved her mouth over Matthew’s thighs, nuzzling inside each one and letting her breath caress his balls without actually touching him there. Her hand moved slowly, stroking, every so often palming the head of his cock while she licked and nibbled at the soft skin of his inner thigh. When she let her fingernails brush upward along the skin between his balls and inner thigh, Matthew twitched and sighed, and Stella paused. His cock throbbed in her fist. He pushed upward, but she didn’t move.

  When he’d stilled, she stroked again. Licked and kissed, teasing, until finally she let her tongue trace a delicate pattern on his balls and around the base of his cock. His groan was so satisfying that she eased off again, tickling him with her breath as her fingers gripped him but didn’t move along his shaft. Over and over, she used her mouth and hands to edge him close to coming. She lost herself in the pleasure of giving him pleasure, until finally Matthew breathed a single word.

  “Please...”

  Stella ceased her teasing. Taking him in her mouth, she kept up the pace and pressure until he came with a shout. Then she eased him down and moved up his body to tuck herself against him. She wasn’t usually much of a snuggler, but she pressed her face into the curve of his neck and shoulder, her hand flat on his belly, feeling the residual twitch of his muscles.

  His phone, which had slid from his jeans pocket when she pulled them down, buzzed from its place on the bed between them. Matthew let out a soft groan but didn’t reach for it. Stella did, holding it out to him.

  “You should answer it.”

  He cracked open an eye to look at her and, without saying a word, checked the text. Whatever it was made him laugh, though without much humor. He sighed and sat, rubbing between his eyes. Then he turned the phone to show her the message.

  ANSWER YOUR PHONE. I DON’
T CARE IF YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, JUST ANSWER ME.

  Stella sat up to prop herself against the headboard, pulling her knees to her chest, then resting her chin on them. She shrugged, not offering an opinion. Matthew frowned and turned away to make his call.

  “Hey. Yes. Sorry, I was busy. Yes, I know. I’ll pick them up. Yes. I got it. I sent it. I’m sorry, you’re right, I should’ve told you. That’s not... You know what? Yes. That would be great if you could start doing that. Fine,” he said at last in a tight voice. “No, but if that’s how you want to take it, that’s your business. Yes...I’ll take care of it.”

  He held the phone out from his ear to look at it with an expression of mingled disgust and amusement, then looked at Stella.

  “She hung up on me.”

  Stella chewed the inside of her cheek, still not speaking or moving. Matthew slid closer to her to put his chin on her shoulder, nudging her with it until she looked down at him. He grinned up at her, sprawling naked without seeming to care or be embarrassed. She touched his eyebrows, smoothing them with a fingertip.

  “She said she’s going to call before she comes over from now on.”

  Stella smiled, silent.

  “She’s pissed,” Matthew added.

  “I can’t blame her,” Stella said. “It would’ve been nice for both of us not to meet unexpectedly. I mean, let’s face it, any woman you brought around would probably have to go Godzilla versus Mothra with her.”

  He laughed. “No...”

  Stella’s eyebrows rose. “Um, yeah.”

  He looked at the phone in his hand, swiping to bring up the text messages. He held it up to show her again. “She said she doesn’t care if I have a girlfriend.”

  “Oh, she cares. She cares a lot.” Stella smiled again. “It’s a good thing you don’t have one, huh?”

  Matthew kissed her. “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you?” she asked against his mouth.

  Matthew took her face in his hands to look into her eyes. “Yeah. I think so. Do I?”