Start Me Up

by Nicole Michaels

  He pulled her hand up, grabbed under her knees, and pulled her body toward him in two quick jerks, and she nearly blushed at how much she liked the feel of him manhandling her. He didn’t ask permission, he just took, which made her shiver with excitement. Nestled between her thighs he widened his stance until he was level with her opening and held her steady, slowly sliding inside, one hard inch at a time. His eyes were on hers and his lips tight as he breathed in and out.

  “Shit, Anne.” His head bent down so he could watch them join. “You feel so good.” He pulled out again and she let her eyes drift shut so she could focus on all the electric sensations that stemmed from their connection as he entered her all the way.

  He picked up speed, in and out, over and over, and the pleasure built inside once again. Never had she had two orgasms in one night, never in her whole life, and one night with Mike Everett was going to top all she’d ever known. It wasn’t a surprise; he was amazing. Beautiful, intoxicating, and so wonderful and loving she could melt.

  His hands left her thighs and she opened her eyes to find him leaning down to kiss her, his tongue going deep into her mouth as his body pushed into her hard and steady. His kiss tasted like sex, and he growled deep in his throat as she grabbed his ass and pulled him closer.

  He leaned on his elbows and stared down at her, each thrust making a puff of breath escape her. “I’m gonna come, baby,” he whispered. “I want to feel you … right now.”

  Her body responded to his endearment, and his bossiness, sending her into a second orgasm so intense she could die of the pleasure.

  He slowed down as he climaxed. Each time he entered fully he ground against her, a long growl emanating from deep within his chest. When he finally fell against her body he was damp with perspiration and she wrapped her arms tight around him, wanting to keep him there, afraid for him to meet her eyes. She feared that all the emotion would show in her face. Mike was more than she expected, so much more.

  Eighteen

  Anne’s bedroom was painted a soft blue, so light and peaceful that when the morning sun fell against the wall it was nearly white. Mike didn’t dare leave the bed, or even move a muscle. Anne’s warm naked back was nestled against him, her round bottom pushing against his hip. He didn’t want to wake her, but even more he didn’t want her to leave his side. In sleep she was completely uninhibited, her body falling naturally into what was most comfortable.

  If he looked down carefully he could see the curve of her right breast and just the very tip of a nipple. He would be still all day just to drink in this sight of his Perfect Anne. A few strands of her hair tickled his chest; they smelled like flowers.

  He’d been awake for a while and once more he let his gaze roam across the room and touch all the things that made it so suited to the sleeping beauty beside him. On the wall across from the bed was a large landscape painting of a garden of wildflowers. It was pretty, although not normally his thing. He wondered if Anne ever lay in this exact spot staring at it.

  Below the painting sat a large white dresser. On top was an old wire stand that held at least fifty necklaces. Who could wear that many pieces of jewelry in a lifetime? Next to it was a framed picture of Anne and Claire. They were in a field and from what he could tell it was taken at the same time the ones on the blog bio page were. He loved those photos of Anne and he wanted to get up and look closer, but he wouldn’t dream of moving.

  Everything about her home made him feel happy and warm. It was the kind of place a child was raised to feel loved, and it made him glad to know that Anne was giving that to her daughter. He was envious, and not for the first time since he’d met Anne, it made him want more from life, sooner rather than later, which was a scary realization. He thought back on Derek’s announcement that he was working on a house plan for Mike. How was this all coming together at the same time? The idea of taking care of Anne and Claire—it made his chest ache. He wondered if she could ever see him as that guy, or if she only saw him as in it for the moment. A guy who worked on cars, who lived at his shop and had dirty fingernails more often than not.

  Anne—now awake apparently—shifted beside him and rolled over. He looked down at her face, which had a pillow crease on one cheek. She looked adorable and he smiled at her. “Good morning, Perfect.”

  She laughed and gave him a muffled “good morning” as she tucked her face into his chest to hide it. He wrapped his arms around her body and pulled it against his, loving the feel of her leg naturally winding between his.

  “I like that painting on the wall. It’s pretty.”

  She lifted her head to look at him, laying her cheek on his chest. “My mother painted that in college. It used to hang in my parents’ bedroom and I loved to look at it. When she moved into her apartment, I asked her if I could hang it in my bedroom.”

  They were quiet for a while and then he heard her sniffle, the sound sending a panic through his body. He shifted to try to see her face but she was now facing the foot of the bed. “Anne, what’s wrong?”

  She took a deep breath and blew it out, but he could see her hand rise up to swipe at her eyes. “Nothing, I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, come here.” He tugged at her arm, and she finally gave in and looked up at him. Her eyes, already puffy from sleep, were now pink from tears. “What’s going on?”

  She gave a halfhearted smile. “I was just thinking … it’s nothing.”

  “Anne, we just spent the night together and you’re crying. Saying it’s nothing is not an option.” An ironic notion; usually he would have avoided emotional conversation at all costs. Not because he was an uncaring asshole, but because he never knew what to say to a woman when she cried. And … well … maybe because he could be a bit of an asshole. His past MO was a little uncaring only because he never wanted to send the wrong message—but not with Anne. He couldn’t let this go without an explanation.

  “It has nothing to do with last night. It’s just … I recently found out my mom’s health is worse than we thought. She’s diabetic and may need to start dialysis soon.”

  “Jesus, Anne, seriously?” Without thinking he pulled her in closer to his body. She snaked her arm across his waist and held him tight. He loved the feeling of her seeking comfort from him. He wanted to hold her, make it better.

  “Yeah, she just told me about it a few days ago.”

  He wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Has she been sick for a while?”

  “She’s been diabetic for twenty years. But needing the dialysis is a new development. I guess I didn’t realize how bad things had gotten. I have a feeling she kept me in the dark on a few of her doctor’s appointments. She’s always tried to protect me.”

  “Well, of course she has. Isn’t that what a mother does?” He brushed her hair out of her face and let his fingers tickle over her back, enjoying the warmth of her soft skin.

  “You’re right, but I’m a grown-up now. I could’ve handled it. And of course I offered to give her one of my kidneys.”

  His heart stopped at the announcement. The thought of Anne going through an operation, and a major one at that, felt like a heavy weight on his chest. But the sadness in her eyes was killing him, too, and if one of his parents were alive, he’d have offered the exact same thing. “What did she say?”

  “She said no. So typical of her, she was adamant that she wasn’t going to take that route. It makes me feel helpless.”

  “You know she’s just trying to do what’s best for you.” He understood her frustration, but he couldn’t deny he felt a wave of relief.

  “I know she is. She’s such a good person. But she doesn’t deserve to spend her final years fighting to be normal.”

  “Of course she doesn’t, and you don’t deserve to watch your mother go through it. Maybe when it’s time, she won’t want to leave you and Claire and … she’ll be ready to reconsider.”

  “I hope so. I can’t imagine losing her.” She laid her cheek against his skin and ran her hand thro
ugh the hair on his chest. “I’m sorry to be a downer.”

  “Anne, look at me.” She lifted her head again and met his eyes. “Don’t ever apologize for telling me what’s on your mind, no matter what it is. I want you to tell me things. Okay?”

  She stared for a moment, blinking her sleepy eyes, and finally nodded, her chin resting against his chest. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Her head fell to the side again, her now damp cheek on his skin. He looked up at the ceiling, all his thoughts jumbling in his brain. He had lost his parents young, and his grief nearly led him down a path that easily could have ended his life. When he thought about that, he didn’t feel worthy of the woman nuzzled against him, but God how he wanted her. He’d been proud of himself for finding his way, making something of himself. But Anne made him want more, not only for himself, but for her.

  She was beautiful, yes. Sexy as hell, definitely. But his attraction to her was about more than that. Her love of people made her irresistible. Her natural ability to make others feel important, special, and loved. She had this quality, it was like an aura around her. He wanted her constantly.

  He felt her hand tentatively slide down his stomach under the sheet, and he knew what was coming, although he had to admit it surprised him. She was full of surprises, his perfect Anne. He braced himself, knowing that after such an emotional episode he should just hold her, but when her warm palm grasped his erection he could only let his eyes drift close as her hand ran up and down the length of him.

  They’d had sex twice last night and he had woken up thinking about it. How many times had he found himself in a woman’s bed in the morning and dashed out like fire was biting at his heels. But not this morning. He’d wanted to feel her lying close to him, hear the deepness of her sleepy breathing, and wait for this moment when he could have her again in the morning light.

  She continued to stroke him as she shifted, positioning herself under the sheets so she had one leg on either side of him, her ass hovering above his calves. He immediately knew her intent, and thank goodness he was right when she leaned down to take him fully into her mouth. The silence was broken by the wet noise her lips made as she ran the length of him over and over. That was definitely the most glorious sound known to any man.

  He looked down at the sight of her mouth on him, all of her hair swept to one side, her cheeks sinking in on the uptake. The view made his breath catch, and he bit back a groan. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “That’s so good, babe…”

  A soft whimper came from her throat, and the sudden increase in pressure and intensity nearly brought him off the bed. He reached up and caressed her jaw, loving the way it shifted; knowing that it was moving with the intent to bring him pleasure made him crazy. He was going to come soon and as much as he wanted to finish inside the heat of her mouth, he wanted something else even more. “Come here, Anne.”

  He pulled lightly on her arm and she rose up, her lips shiny and swollen. The sight of it nearly had him undone. Her face fell a little. “You didn’t like it?”

  He let out a strangled laugh. “Are you kidding me? I loved it. But I want to be inside you even more.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then grabbed the sheets, pulling them around her body like a cloak as she sat up and positioned herself above his hips. He let it go while he grabbed a condom from the bedside table and rolled it on. The sheet she kept wrapped around her clued him in to the fact that she felt less confident with light filling the room, but he wouldn’t let that come between them. He tugged at it gently. “Let go of the sheet, Perfect.”

  Her wary eyes met his, and then flicked to the window where the brightness of morning penetrated through the blinds. If she only knew how beautiful she looked like this, her features softened from sleep and her hair wild. She wasn’t Stepford perfection right now, but she was still perfectly unkempt and sexy, which was exactly how he wanted her. She was beautiful, and he’d have to convince her of that fact.

  He pulled lightly at the sheet again, which she seemed to have in a death grip. “Anne, it’s just me, and I love looking at every inch of this body. I want to watch you take me inside you.”

  He looked at her and swore he saw a shiver run through her. Slowly she released her hold on the fabric. He pushed it off to the side and sucked in a breath at the sight of her completely exposed. He could see her nakedness but his eyes stayed right on hers, her expression intense, and he imagined she was willing him not to look down. Too bad, Anne.

  His gaze swept downward leisurely. Her breasts hung heavy and perfect against her body, nipples tipped up and firm. Ready. He ran a hand from her chest to the peak and rolled it. He didn’t look at her face again but he could hear her ragged breathing, see her chest rising and falling.

  His other hand went to her waist, which dipped in perfectly above the beautiful swell of her hips. It wasn’t firm, it was soft and beautiful, and just the way a woman’s body should be. Why couldn’t she see herself the way he did? She was made for him. The thought jarred him, because in that second he knew that he never wanted any other man to see Anne like this. Just the thought made anger coil in his gut. He pushed it away and refocused on her, his hands running along the shapeliness of her hourglass form. “You’re too beautiful for words, Anne.”

  He heard her swallow hard as he lifted her up lightly. She pressed her knees into the bed and raised her body to just the right spot. He watched as she sank down, bringing him inside, parting and filling her. He swore under his breath at the sight of it, so perfect.

  The intensity of the moment was strong, the sensations so acute that he could barely breathe. The amount of blood rushing through his body caused his ears to roar like a river rushing through his head. His only thought was to take her, make her his. It was a primal urge, the desire to claim her body in this way, and he’d never ever experienced a need like it. He guided her up and down, his hands still on her hips as they rocked back and forth.

  “Mike.” Anne’s breathy voice was more than he could handle, and he slammed up into her body, each stroke bringing him closer. He could feel her tightening around him, and she leaned back to rest her hands on his thighs. The view of her from this angle was breathtaking, making it harder to hold off. He ran his finger over her exposed folds, finding the spot that would bring her to completion. She moaned as he stroked her, and he couldn’t take it anymore. She was gorgeous, her body rocking back and forth on top of him.

  “Anne … I can’t.”

  “I’m coming.” Her hips quickened their pace, grinding against him, her ass brushing him, all of him, with every move. His thumb continued its motion on her clit while his other hand tightened its hold on her waist, pushing her back and forth until he came hard, their sounds of release filling the quiet room.

  After a moment she leaned forward, both hands hitting the bed beside him as her hair spilled around his head. She smiled and leaned on one hand to brush it out of his face. “Sorry.”

  The flush of her cheeks and wide eyes made his spent erection twitch inside of her. “You’re amazing, you know that?” He swiped his hand across her temple, pulling the hair from her face.

  She didn’t respond, and when she attempted to shift off him he held her steady, grabbing her face with both hands to bring her lips to his. She allowed him to nip lightly at her mouth but didn’t respond. “Kiss me, Anne.”

  “I have morning breath.”

  “So what? I do, too.”

  She smiled and he took advantage of the parting to suck her bottom lip into his mouth. She moaned against him, instinctively rocking her pelvis against his. The slickness that engulfed him almost brought him back to life, but he wasn’t eighteen any longer; they’d need a little time.

  She finally reached over his head, dragged a short robe off the headboard, and wrapped it around her before standing. He’d be happy when he could convince her to walk around the house buck naked; just the thought of Perfect Anne bending over to load the dishwasher, giving him a spectacular
view, made him smile. Luckily she was turned the other way so he didn’t have to explain the reason for his grin.

  “Want some coffee?” She ran a hand through her hair as she dug in a dresser drawer and pulled out some clothing.

  “Sure.” He threw the covers off his body and stood up. Her eyes flicked over her shoulder and quickly back to the drawer. He vaguely recalled taking his shirt off and dropping it in her hallway so he went to find it, knowing full well she’d watch him, thinking he wouldn’t know. Having her look at him did ridiculous things to his insides. He’d never wanted anyone to want him the way he did her. It was like an addiction; she kept reeling him in for more and didn’t even know it.

  * * *

  Anne watched Mike walk out of her bedroom. His body was exquisite, and she noticed another tattoo on his muscular back that she hadn’t seen the night before. It was an odd symbol: V-shaped, with some script below it. Whatever it was, it was a major turn-on, and so was the way the sides of his ass indented. Was he flexing? She remembered the feel of it under her fingers; it gave her the perfect place to grab as she pulled him into her. Just the quick look over her shoulder reminded her that all of his body put others to shame. How had this happened to her? One of the hottest men she’d ever laid eyes on was in her house—and naked for goodness’ sake—after giving her the most amazing night and morning of her life.

  When she heard him shut the hall bathroom door, she went into her own master bath to pull on some yoga pants and a tank top. After putting her hair into a loose ponytail and freshening up, she met him downstairs. He was already eating another brownie while he looked out the kitchen window, and she could smell coffee brewing; the wonderful tinkling of it falling into the pot was one of her favorite sounds.

  “You didn’t have to start the coffee. I could’ve done it,” she said. She’d forgotten to set it up last night. Apparently rushing into her bed with sexy Mike trumped thoughts of the following morning’s caffeine fix.