by Melissa Blue
Dammit. This was why she didn't talk to Cal about Wade. He'd say something that made her realize the only real thing keeping her from jumping in his bed and never leaving was her own fear—that and only that.
“Shame,” she answered.
“And shame has nothing to do with how he feels about you. How much he trusts you. And let's be honest, what you have with him is not a work relationship. Have you met his friends? His family? Is he keeping you hidden like some dirty little secret?”
“I've met some and they all look at me...weird.” But to be fair, no telling what Wade said about her to them. “And his brother is an epic douche.”
“But you met them.”
She tapped her fingers against the laptop's cover, searching for any other excuse to stay home and stay safe. “And he doesn't like you.”
Cal spread out his hands. “I took your virginity. He should hate my guts.”
She winced. “Didn't tell him.”
He scoffed and dropped his gaze to the floor. “Sometimes you make it hard to be your friend, Soph.”
She pushed back into the chair. “What do you mean?”
“You're smart, funny, but sometimes you can't see what's right there in front of you. To put it plainly, you should tell him about me.”
Sophie gave a short laugh. “'Cause men don't get touchy about that stuff? He got huffy just at the thought of you sharing my space.”
“Sophie...” He sighed, his shoulders high like tension pulsed through him. “He's not Angelo. He doesn't sound like the kind of guy who would betray your trust.”
“You don't know that. No one can say—”
“That he won't hurt you? Have I—” His Adam's apple bobbed. “Have I ever given you bad advice? A nudge in the wrong direction? And you don't trust me.”
His condemnation rang in every word. She picked up her coffee cup and took the glass to the sink.
“God,” he threw at her back, “you're so damn stubborn. Angelo did what he did because he was a dick. He was a rock star. At some point he was going to write a song about you. Wade is a nerd. He'll...name a star after you. Call you his Juno to his Jupiter.”
Sophie laughed at the melodrama. “Shut up, Cal.”
Her friend smiled, but his eyes didn't light with the expression “Because you know I'm right, and that means my job here is done. You'll go to him and be happy with a man for the first time in a long time.”
He turned back to look outside. His shoulders low again. “I love it when it rains. There's always this smell that reminds me of the wet blacktop in elementary.”
She put a hand to her stomach. “Petrichor.”
“What?” He turned his head in profile.
“That smell is named petrichor.” Something she hadn't known until she'd watched Doctor Who. “Wet dirt.”
“Huh.” He nodded, his gaze once again on the rain. “I love it just the same.”
Sophie closed her eyes as her world tilted. The give to go to Wade pushed at her like a tidal wave. “I'll go talk to him tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow.”
What were her reasons now? She grasped at them and they slipped through her fingers like spider webs. “I look a mess.”
Cal laughed and faced her. “Do you really think he'll care?”
No, and knowing Wade he would have her naked in no time so what she put on only mattered if it took too much to effort to take off.
She slid a hand over her stomach to soothe the quake. “You're not going to let me wiggle out of this.”
“Nope.” His expression hardened, unapologetic or yielding. “And if he breaks your heart, I'll beat the crap out of him.”
The quaking spread to her knees. Heartbreak was always a possibility. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He pushed away from the glass and went into the living room. He picked up her keys and purse. Because it was Cal, he opened the front door in case she’d missed his subtlety.
She wore ratty sweats and a long T-shirt. Her hair was a tumbled mess, but she'd shaved since she'd worn a short dress to Wade's lecture. Nothing but her own terror kept her from walking out the door.
Wade wasn't asleep either. She knew that in her gut. It wasn't just sex between them, had never been.
Compatibility isn't love and trust.
Cal gestured to the door. She sighed and shuffled over in her house shoes.
Sophie said, “You could look less smug.”
“I could, but where's the fun in that? Make him scream your name.”
She punched him in the shoulder. “You're an ass.” She opened the closet door behind him and took out a hoodie. “And we both know that was my plan all along.”
He handed over her keys and purse. He hesitated and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It's okay to be scared.”
And she was. “I'll call you if I chicken out half way there.”
“I won't answer. I'll be asleep. Your indecision is now Wade's problem.”
She playfully punched him in the shoulder again. “You annoy me.”
Cal pushed her out of the door. She ran the rest of the way to her car. The only way she could get to Wade's was to blast music and drown out any thoughts. She belted out “Natural Woman” like her last name was Franklin.
The distraction worked and before Sophie could back out, she knocked on Wade's door. The overhang wasn't worth a shit and her jacket couldn't offset the rain. When he finally opened the door she was shivering and soaked.
Still he lazily leaned against his doorjamb. He wore basketball shorts, a long-sleeved shirt and glasses. “Don't come in if you're not sure.”
As always he didn't provide a meaningless greeting. He got straight to the point. She wanted the awkward build up, needed it. “You were reading. You only wear your glasses when you're reading.”
Took him a full three seconds to reply with, “Couldn't sleep.”
She nodded, grateful he was doing awkward for her. She slid her hands into the hoodie's pocket, and scrounged up some courage. “I'm not sure about anything, but I want to be here with you, tonight.”
“And tomorrow?”
“I still want to be here with you.”
He grabbed the hem of her jacket and pulled her inside, right up against him. “You're shivering.”
“Cold.” She inhaled. “And terrified.”
He lifted one brow. “Honest.” He closed the door and pushed her back against it. “You look like a bum.”
She pulled off her hood and his eyes lit as he took in her curls. “You have such a fixation with my hair.”
He placed one hand on the door and used the other to play with an askew lock. “It's soft and smells like coconut. Curls more when you come. I'm starting to think it's magic.”
“What?” she said on a laugh, more than a little amused...smitten he called her hair magic.
“It's ridiculous, but I am one hundred percent sure I could masturbate to a picture of your hair. You've done something to me I can't quantify.”
He was rambling and playing with her hair instead of getting her naked. Yeah. She'd done something to him. He started it though. She grabbed his shirt collar and tugged him until his lips were a breath away.
“I'm thinking,” she said. “You shouldn't let me.”
His lids lowered but he inhaled in then out slow. “I'm waiting for you to change your mind.”
And that made sense why he hadn't moved from the door. She'd done this—put a wall between them—and that meant only she could tear it down. “I'm not wearing any underwear.”
He turned his head and bit his lip. Still not fixed yet. She lifted on her toes and placed her mouth against the pulse in his neck. His skin was warm, his heart racing. The tendon flexed and she kissed that too, hoping to dissolve some of the tension keeping the muscle taut. He groaned, but didn't move. He likely wouldn't make one until he knew for sure she was here to be with him.
She settled back and started with her jacket. She dropped it at his feet. Her squishy house sh
oes went next then her shirt and the sweats. Sophie held his stare, wanting to see his reaction, revel in the way he could make her flush with a look. His breathing had turned harsh and heavy. When she stood naked in front of him, she curled her fingers into his shorts' waistband.
“I've toyed with you so I'll forgive you for not jumping me.”
He didn't laugh or smile in return. “You're beautiful, Sophie,” he breathed.
She brushed her cheek along his as the simple statement washed over her. Yeah. With him was where she wanted to be. They could worry about everything else later.
Sophie said, “And that's before I put my mouth on you. Yes, I forgive you.” His jaw flexed, and she smiled. “You might want to lean against the door for support.”
“Don't—” The rest of the words caught in his throat as she knelt in front of him. He sighed and moved a foot away.
She waited, keeping her eyes on his.
He said, “You don't have to do this to prove anything to me.”
Kneeling was a sign of submission, trust. Wade of all people should see that, but she understood his reticence. “I know.”
His face flushed but he nodded. “Put your hands behind your back.”
She locked her fingers together and rested her hands along her tailbone. “Like this?”
“Yes.” He stepped forward again, his hand sliding into his shorts. She held her breath, anxious, achy. He pulled out his cock, a soft groan spilling from his lips. “I'm so hard. You do this to me.”
“Let me ease it.”
“Too much and I'll come.” The last word was just a groan. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
He guided his cock to her mouth; with his warning ringing in her head she kissed the tip. It blushed red. She parted her lips and he took that subtle suggestion and rubbed the head along the seam of her mouth. His hand fisted at the base of his cock.
“Slow,” he rasped.
He eased more into her mouth and she ran her tongue over the slit. The sound he made rattled in her bones. When he traced her lips a second time, the salty tang of precome kissed her taste buds.
“More,” she said, and any other man might have lost his control but this was Wade.
She could trust he wouldn't just ram into her mouth, seeking release. He huffed out a curse and gave her more, enough to suck when he pulled out of her mouth again. And that became the slow rhythm. Suck in the thick shaft, slurp up the wet warmth spilling from the tip before he could ease away. Each stroke went deeper and she accepted the challenge, knowing soon she'd feel the pulse of his cock in her throat. She didn't want to wait, but this was what he needed.
His stomach muscles flexed and he backed away. “Do you like the way I taste?”
“Love it.”
“Use your hands.” He fisted his in his hair. “Finish for me. I'll be too rough.”
“Sometimes I like it that way.” She smiled.
His chuckle sounded raspy. “That fucking smile lets me know I'm in trouble.”
“Maybe.”
She closed both of her hands around his cock, and lightly stroked him. Every downward caress the head popped out between her fingers. She waited until he closed his eyes before sucking him back into her mouth.
His hips found her rhythm and she knew the action was a mindless impulse, but he wasn't close yet. His dick would turn to hot steel if he was. So she worked her mouth and tongue lower and lower, moving her hands when she'd left him wet enough he could glide in and out of her mouth. Deeper and deeper. She held her breath and took him in as far as he could go.
He shuddered and moaned her name. Her gag reflex spasmed. She relaxed, waited as he pulsed and pulled back slow. Her body slicked the way and it was messy and wet. She stroked him with her throat again and again. His hold on her hair felt like a vice but he didn't guide her, just held on.
Finally his cock turned to steel, hotter, and his hips jerked once, twice. He didn't make a single sound but the shake in his legs told her he'd hit the wall. He was going to come.
“Sophie,” he groaned as a warning.
She took him in until his pubic hairs brushed her lips. The gush of warmth in her mouth, her throat made her moan. The sound was followed with another and another until he'd spent everything he had into her. When she was sure he had nothing left, she sucked him clean.
His weight shifted as he rested a hand on the door to lean. “I'm never letting you do that again,” he muttered and another spasm shook his thighs.
Her skin flashed hot and tingly at the gentle caress of his voice. “Why?”
“Can't feel my brain.” He pushed from the door and reached down to help her up. “You know the drill—jump.”
Wary, she gave him a good once over. “I don't know if you can hold me up in your current condition.”
He lifted her in a fireman's hold. It should have worried her he had this kind of strength right after coming, but he'd let into his home. He was moving down the hallway and to his bed. He believed she was here to stay. Anything after that was just icing on the cake.
*****
“Are you going to put me down or just keep me over your shoulder?”
Wade settled on the edge of the bed and opened the nightstand's drawer. “Sounds too much like letting go. Hard pass.”
“I'm naked.”
He could turn his head and bite into her butt cheek. “Fully aware.”
“This is uncomfortable and I might get dizzy and pass out.”
“Can't get up and leave if you're unconscious. We'll have a group nap time. I don't see the downside.”
She bit him on his side and he grunted then tossed the four pairs of handcuffs on the bed.
Silence then, “You went back to the sex store?”
“I was hopeful and very aware you like to run.”
She shifted but didn't try to fight from her position, which let him know what he already guessed—she didn't mind his manhandling. “Two of these are for my feet?”
“If you ask nicely.” Next he went for the lube.
Another pause. “What happened to the strawberry one?”
“What did you think I did for the last three weeks to keep me sane?”
He dumped a few more things and stood. She giggled. “I think I'm getting lightheaded now.”
He shifted her so she could stand on her feet, but kept an arm around her waist when she steadied. It might be overkill, but she was letting him touch her.
And he could still see every doubt, every worry. They remained in her gaze. He tried not to dwell or let the pang deepen.
“I told you I'm not leaving,” she said, her tone sober.
He didn't believe her. “Give me time,” he lied.
His gut would never not clench when she stood more than a foot away. Her doubt was clear in her gaze. He was going to keep touching her until he couldn't.
“Okay.” She lifted on her toes and brought her lips to his.
Yeah. Crazy to miss her mouth on his, but he did. He shifted into her to drag them both into something hot and heavy and just with their mouths. Eventually he wanted more, all, everything, so he broke the kiss. “You had your turn.”
“Thought I didn't get one?”
He cupped her cheek and waited until she met his gaze. “Sweetie, you can always have a turn.”
“Never letting that go,” she said on a chuckle.
He grasped her waist, lifted her then dropped her onto the middle of his bed. All his favorite parts bounced with the movement.
He tilted his head, a little woozy. “Have I mentioned how much I love gravity?”
She blushed and picked up the lube. “Chocolate-flavored?”
He plucked the bottle from her fingers, and smirked. “I love chocolate.” He poured a fair amount between his hands before climbing onto the bed to kneel beside her naked body. “From the line between your brows I'm going to guess now is not the time to tell you random facts about the chocolate.”
“Nope.”
He
closed his fist, turning his hand sideways to let the thick liquid drip onto her pelvis and down between her slit. She gasped.
“That's too bad,” he said, “but we should revisit the things I taught you about me.”
“You don't like to share, you like the word 'more', etc. etc? I remember.”
He flattened his palm against her stomach. “Your jacket smelled like a man's aftershave.”
She opened her mouth to explain. He kissed her, hard, since she still didn't understand none of that mattered. Jealousy wasn't rational, especially his.
“You came to me in the middle of the night and you smelled like him. How would you feel if I did the same?”
“He's my friend.”
“I know.” He cupped her breasts and kneaded them. The lubrication couldn't have dimmed the friction from his calluses, and when she moaned he knew it hadn't. He hadn't tied up her hands and she found her way into his shorts again. Instead of stroking him as he'd expected, she closed her hand over his balls.
“Just know I'll forever hate him.” He nipped her chin when she tugged at him gently. “I can't remember two or three at the moment.”
She turned her head and caught his lips with her teeth then laughed. “You were going to talk me into seven. I know what lube is for.”
“It's the duct tape of sex.” Wade slipped a finger between her pussy lips. “You're wet. Very wet. But I can start with two fingers instead of one.”
He curved his fingers just right inside her and she bucked when he tapped his finger tips against her g-spot. Wade closed his eyes, and pushed in more. Before he reached too far to hurt, Wade flicked his fingers without touching her inner walls. Her hips lifted from the bed while her legs trembled.
He smiled. “You like my fountain of knowledge now, huh?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
He wanted her like this—panting, his. “You want it like the first time or better?”
“Better?” she said, disbelief clear in her tone.
“So much.” His voice was gruff as he continued to stroke her.
“Yes.”
The only way to get her to seven was to make “yes” the only answer. He moved between her thighs then lifted one of her legs and threw it over his shoulder. She pulled her hand from his shorts and spread her fingers against his chest. He took a moment to lift her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. Yeah, he wanted her screaming, sex-drunk but the simple fact was he wanted her.
