by Marika Ray
I’d completely forgotten my intent from this morning: to write an essay showing Jameson that I loved him back. He kept walking, moving us through my living room and up the stairs.
“They’re in my jacket pocket. Which way?” He nodded down the hall.
“Oh, the door at the end.” I pushed aside his jacket lapel and fished around for a pocket in the lining. His muscles jumped as I felt him up. I almost abandoned my mission for more feeling up, but the maturity gained by being in my thirties slowed me down and helped me focus.
“Aha!” I pulled it out right as he dumped me on my bed. I went with the bounce and then scrambled up to my elbows.
I looked up from my papers to see him take off his suit jacket and throw it on a chair. His eyes were hooded with desire, which just fed mine. “As much as I love what’s happening right now, I need to read this to you first.”
His jaw twitched, but he nodded. “Better make it quick.”
I gulped. This alpha male thing he had going on was unbelievably hot. Unexpected, even after our make-out session. Then he unhooked his belt and slid it out of the loops ever so slowly. His look was clear: say what I needed to say while he stripped for me. I wasn’t sure that was even humanly possible. How could I read this stupid essay when my eyes had better things to do?
I cleared my throat. “Okay, so this seemed more important this morning, but I wrote you an essay.” He didn’t say a thing, just toed off his shoes.
“Here goes.” I proceeded in a wavering voice to read all the scientific findings about love and where scientists said it came from. I paused to hazard a glance up, which rewarded me with the sight of his shirt completely unbuttoned. Then he whipped it off his shoulders, pulling at the cuffs, his muscles bunching and flexing in the dim light from the small bedside lamp.
I sucked in a deep breath and decided to rush through the rest and get to the point. “So, basically, they say the symptoms of being in love are breathlessness, a tugging sensation in the chest, exhilaration, euphoria, a racing heart, increased energy, and sleeplessness. All of which I’ve experienced in regards to you.” I fluttered my eyes back up to him, his hands frozen on his waistband, suspended in the act of taking them off.
We stared at each other for several long beats. “Say something, please,” I whispered. I could barely get the words past my throat. I was scared. I was ashamed. Had he felt like this when he told me he loved me? I just ran out on him. I had no idea how he was able to survive my callousness.
If he turned me down right now, I might just disintegrate into the air. Cease to exist without his affirmation. Refuse to stay here on this plane of reality where he didn’t love me back. What kind of heartless bitch was I the other day?
“Are you saying you love me?” His words came out slow and measured. His body didn’t move. I wasn’t sure he even breathed.
I swallowed. “Yes. I know so. I love you, Jameson.”
He unfroze, lunging toward me, his hands digging into my hair to frame my face.
“I love you too, Lily-Marie. So much.” Then his mouth was crushing me, crushing the essay between our bodies. He was wild, lost in this moment with me.
Then he was gone.
The cold air hit me and I opened my eyes to see him standing upright again, shoving his pants down his legs. Then his boxers and socks. The scene was like a present being opened slowly, the wrapping paper carefully peeled back and folded when all I wanted to do was rip it all off and consume my gift.
Those legs I’d wanted to touch when I’d seen him in his cycling shorts that first day. Those smoldering gray eyes that said I was his everything no matter what ridiculous thing I happened to be doing. That dark hair I couldn’t wait to run my fingers through and mess up. The abs I’d counted in the dressing room for the first time, amazed they were real.
It was all a gift. Just for me. Jameson was mine.
His cock stole the show, bobbing as he stalked back to me, its tip brushing against his stomach. My thighs clenched in anticipation, becoming so very needy. He was beautiful.
“Stand up.” He stood at the foot of the bed, palming his dick, so sure I’d follow his command.
Which was smart, because, let’s get real. What woman wouldn’t follow his orders right now? I’d do lots of questionable things to get my hands and mouth on that cock tonight.
I tossed the essay over the side of the bed and scooted over to stand as quickly as possible, now toe to toe with Jameson. As badly as I wanted to reach for him, I kept my hands by my sides, wanting to see what else would come out of that mouth of his.
“Turn around.”
Turning, he unzipped my dress and helped it fall to the ground.
He paused and I could feel his gaze trailing down the length of my body, looking his fill. And more than ever, I wished I’d followed the one thing on my list I’d ignored: go on a diet. He was a specimen with all his easily identifiable muscles. I bet he was a hit in anatomy class in college: a living, breathing diagram. And then there was me, a mom of two with socially unacceptable curves and lumps and stretch marks. My only saving grace was I’d bought a black lace thong and bra this afternoon on the urging of my best friend.
“No pink underwear?” Jameson’s voice was barely above a rumble, a hint of disappointment that had me confused.
“Huh?”
“That day in your home-sewn skirt. You flashed me and you had on pink cotton underwear. Do you have any idea how many fantasies I’ve had with you in that pair of underwear?”
A rush of warmth filled me, transforming me into a goddess who straightened her spine and pushed out her breasts with pride. “I don’t know why you say you have a problem with words. You say the absolute most perfect things.”
A fingertip started at my neck, traced down my spine, unhooked my bra, and kept traveling south to the lacy scrap at my hip. I felt his touch all the way down to my toes.
Thumbs hooked into the sides of my thong and tugged downward. “Step out.”
As he crouched down behind me, I did just that, also allowing my bra to slide off my arms to lie in a heap with my dress. He pressed his face to each of my thighs, his lips and tongue gliding their way back up my body. I shivered and gasped.
I expected his hands to find their way to my breasts, but instead, Jameson detoured to my hair, rapidly pulling out pins and tossing them to the floor until my hair cascaded down my back.
“Finally,” he muttered, his hands brushing through the long strands. “Sit on the edge of the bed.”
I turned and sat, aware of the close proximity of my mouth to his straining cock. I wanted a taste, just a small taste, but when I bent forward, Jameson pulled back and shook his head.
He dipped to his knees and pulled my knees apart. And then he knelt there, just looking his fill. I was embarrassed by his stare, but also incredibly turned on by it.
He glanced up, eyes so very dark. “I want to worship your body. Can I do that, princess?”
Before I could answer, he dipped his head, his broad shoulders spreading my legs farther. He dove in like a man possessed, his tongue and mouth working me over with no reprieve. A deep groan reverberated through me and I flopped back onto the bed. I was limp, all nerve endings having left their job stations to run between my legs and get in on the action.
A thick finger entered me, followed by a second, filling me and making me burn for more. An orgasm was right there on the edge of my attention, ramping up speed and power, waiting to decimate.
But Jameson had other ideas. He pulled out and stood up. I blinked rapidly, trying to catch up and figure out where the hell he went. I found him staring down at me, spread eagle on the bed, sucking on his fingers. A fierce blush spread across my cheeks.
He popped his fingers out and barked out more orders. “Stand up on the bed.”
“Huh?” I was quite the linguist when close to orgasm.
He just tilted his head, daring me to follow his instructions. I was dazed, but not so confused that I didn’t unde
rstand my orgasm hinged in the balance here. I scrambled inelegantly to my feet again—not an easy feat in stilettos—this time climbing up on the bed and standing there, waiting for more.
He came closer, laying his head on my stomach and pulling me into a hug. His head turned into me and his lips plucked at my skin, no doubt leaving marks I’d treasure tomorrow. Then he picked me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me over to the opposite wall, spinning until he pinned me there.
“Birth control?” he murmured between kisses.
“Yes.”
Then he lowered me down, slamming into me in one stroke.
I gasped from the intrusion. There was so much to take in. And it had been so long.
“Goddammit. I’m sorry.” His face was twisted into a grimace, his eyes squeezed tight.
“You didn’t hurt me. Just surprised,” I managed to reply.
“Mhmm...” He began to move, his hips pinning me against the wall while his mouth found its way down my neck.
I tried to hang on, but there wasn’t much need for it. Jameson was in control and he had no chance of letting me go. He moved me where he wanted me, tilting my hips with his big hands, setting the pace. I was simply along for the ride.
And ride I did, right to the end when an orgasm was so front and center it was the only thing I knew, the only thing I saw. It consumed me, freezing my limbs locked around Jameson. His name stumbled past my lips, a new chant I never wanted to stop saying.
I chased the light until the room came back to me. Jameson’s hand pulled my head back down so I was looking at him. “I need to see you, beautiful.” He plunged back in once, twice, then on the third, he trembled. His mouth opened like he was going to say something, but no sound came out. His gray eyes clouded over and I watched it all with a front row seat, a heady feeling knowing I’d made this big man weak as a puppy.
Long moments later, when our breathing was under control, I couldn’t stop touching him. I wanted my hands on every muscle all at once, so I petted him like the obsessed woman I was.
He finally chuckled. “Figured we needed to finish what we started the other day. The wall was good to us.”
I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. “Agreed, and I didn’t slide down this time.”
“There’s still time for that,” he teased me.
“Ha-ha. You’ve got me, right?”
He turned serious in a heartbeat, gaze burrowing into mine. “I’ve always got you, Lily-Marie.”
Ah, shit, there went my heart, squeezing and sighing in my chest. “I know you do.” I was so happy I thought I’d burst. “I think you found a fifty-first way to find a wife. Order her around in the bedroom.”
He threw his head back and laughed. I wanted to make him do that every day. “Are you asking me to marry you, Ms. Masters?”
I swatted his arms of steel. “Oh you shush, that’s not what I meant.”
He kept laughing, sliding out of me and helping me to my feet. “Yeah, I know, but teasing you makes your cheeks pink and that’s one of my favorite things about you.”
I felt thoroughly ravished, yet here we were, teasing each other while still naked, his release sliding down my inner thighs. “I thought my pink underwear was your favorite thing?”
He smacked me on my bare ass as he walked to the bed, pulling back the covers. “I have about a thousand things about you that are my favorites. Get in bed and I’ll take your heels off.”
Oh, the ordering around was back and damn if I didn’t jump to do his bidding. He made quick work of my shoes and pulled me into him.
He gave me a smug smile as we snuggled under the covers. “See? Another one of my favorite things. You do as I say.”
I trailed my hand down his six-pack, then lower, finding him delightfully hard again. “Only when you use that voice.”
And then he proceeded to use that voice all night long.
20
Jameson
Sun was already filtering through Lily-Marie’s blinds by the time I woke the next morning. Her scent, that hint of lemon and something else I couldn’t place, surrounded me like an onshore fog as I lay in her bed. Memories of last night filled my brain, making me happier than I’d ever been.
Lily-Marie loved me.
She’d written a goddamn essay to tell me how much. It meant the world to me to know she’d truly thought about me and told me how she felt in the way she thought I’d most understand and appreciate. I could only hope she felt the same way with the plans I’d executed for her last night.
Her head was lying in the crook of my arm, her breath fanning my chest as she exhaled. That long blond hair was strewn over her back, my arm, and the pillow, covering every surface with its silk. My body tightened painfully just remembering how I’d wrapped that hair around my fist at one point during the night and taken her from behind. I’d whispered into her ear exactly what I wanted her to do and without even a blink of an eye, she’d obeyed.
Gently grabbing the hand that lay on my stomach, I lowered her palm to my cock without waking her, loving the sight of her pale skin against mine. Turning my head, I glanced at the clock, seeing it was almost nine. Stein, Clark, and Milly would all be home by eleven, so we needed to get up and get our day started. Surprisingly, both my ex and Lily-Marie’s ex had been cordial when I called asking for a favor. They’d both agreed to the overnight, thus allowing us one precious night without the kids around so I could make my grand gesture.
I nuzzled my nose into Lily-Marie’s neck, kissing her earlobe and then that pulsing beat behind her jaw. Her moan told me she was awake, even if her eyes hadn’t opened yet. Her hand flexed on my cock, stealing my breath.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.”
“Shush. I’m having a really good sex dream right now. There’s this hot guy kissing my neck and you oughta see the size of his—beaker,” she whispered, sounding more and more breathless.
I smiled into her neck. “Did you just make a science joke?”
“Maybe you should experiment and see.”
I barely contained the snort. This woman was amazing in every way. “You should totally climb on top and bond with him.”
She finally opened her eyes, the blue orbs the prettiest thing I’d seen in the morning. “Don’t mind if I do.”
And then she rolled, her knees going to each side of my waist. Without hesitation she lifted up and fitted my cock to her entrance, sliding down ever so slowly.
She gasped. I hissed. Sweet torture.
She leaned forward, placing her hands on the pillow on either side of my head, and began to move. My hands found their way to her hips, needing more of her skin against me as she lit up my body with each slide. Her breasts smashed against my chest and her hair created a tent around us, making me feel like I was in a cocoon with only her and me. The outside world didn’t exist when we were connected like this.
Lily-Marie’s groans picked up volume and I knew she was close. When she switched to my name and her hips faltered in their rhythm, I took over, jackhammering up into her. She tumbled over the edge just seconds before me. Sealing our lips together, we clung on tight until the tremors subsided.
“Good morning, Professor,” she said brightly from my chest, where her face was buried.
“Good morning, princess.”
When we finally made it out of bed, we agreed to get showered and dressed at our respective houses even though being apart even for an hour wasn’t what I wanted. The plan was to meet back at Lily-Marie’s house and we’d be together when the kids came home. We’d sit them down and tell them we were dating, but we agreed no spending the night. Not yet. We wanted to ease them into the dating idea to make sure they were comfortable with it.
After too many long kisses goodbye, she finally pushed me out the door and I went back to my house to shower. I was loath to wash her scent off me so soon, but being a good parent came first. My one night with Lily-Marie would not be my last. In fact, if the ring I squirreled away in the back of
my sock drawer was any indication, I intended for it to be the first of forever.
During my week of preparation for my grand gesture, I’d contemplated asking her to marry me, but finally chose against it. I’d blurted out “I love you” way too soon and she’d run. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Plus, the kids needed time to adjust to this new relationship first.
But I’d bought the ring, knowing it was an inevitability. The ring had a platinum setting with diamonds all along the band. In a stroke of fate, I’d used my grandmother’s princess cut diamond in the setting, thinking her list of fifty ways had brought me to Lily-Marie. Now I knew her list of fifty ways had also brought Lily-Marie to me in a roundabout way. It only made sense for her to wear my grandmother’s diamond.
I’d just toweled off from my shower when my phone rang. I ran to it, thinking it might be Lily-Marie or even Stein, but saw my father’s number on the screen instead. I picked it up.
“Hey, Dad, can I call you back this afternoon?”
“Son! Actually, I have to share something really quick first. You know that article of your grandmother’s I sent you? The one about finding a wife?” He started wheezing and I rolled my eyes. Better to put him on speakerphone and keep getting dressed. This could take a while.
He finally wound the wheeze up enough to let out a few loud guffaws and finally actual words. “I found another one...get this...Fifty Ways to Catch a Cheating Husband.” He dissolved into a fit of laughter again before sobering enough to continue. “One of the ways she listed? Poke holes in his condoms and soak in peppermint oil.”
He let out a loud shout and then it sounded like he put the phone down to laugh it out, probably bent over, slapping his knee. I couldn’t help but crack a smile at his antics. This guy loved a reason to laugh, and apparently, my grandmother’s articles were gold mines.
Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t launch into my experiment with Grandmother’s list the minute I answered the phone. He would’ve laughed me off the phone, or worse, come to my front door to laugh at me in person and check if I was feverish.
