No Reservations

by Kristen Proby

  “I get it,” I reply and lean my head back against the couch. “You’re not being invasive. And it’s not like I’m hiding anything. I don’t have a sordid past, like an abusive ex-husband that I ran away from, or an alcoholic father, or anything dramatic.”

  “I do have some of those things,” he says quietly. “I’m glad you don’t.”

  Well, shit.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “Exactly, because we don’t spend any time actually getting to know each other,” he replies. “I know your body like the back of my hand. I can make you come in sixty different ways.”

  I bite my lip as my body comes to life at just the thought of it. He’s totally right about that.

  “See? Just talking about it makes your nipples pucker. I’d bet that your pussy is sopping wet.”

  “You’d win that bet,” I reply with a smile. “The sexual chemistry between us is off the charts. That’s not new.”

  “And I enjoy it immensely,” he agrees. “I’d just like to learn more about you. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”

  “I have an idea,” I reply and set my empty dessert plate aside, then pull my legs up under me. “Let’s play Truth or Dare.”

  “You want to play a game?”

  “Yes, because it might be the best way to get me to open up. I don’t do it often, and this, along with another glass of wine, might help me open up a bit.”

  “Okay,” he says and pours me another glass. “I have just two rules.”

  “What are they?”

  “One, if either of us chooses truth, we have to be brutally honest.”

  “I agree.”

  “And two, the dares can’t be anything outside of my house, and it can’t be actual sex.”

  “Meaning we can fool around and get each other hot, but we can’t actually have the sex?”

  “Exactly.”

  I study him for a moment and then shrug. “I can do that.”

  “Great, I’ll go first.” He shifts in his seat on the opposite end of the couch and gestures for me to put my foot in his lap. I comply, and he begins to rub my foot, making me sigh in delight. “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare.”

  Chapter Eight

  ~Maura~

  “I dare you to go on a date with me.”

  I roll my eyes and take a sip of my wine. “I’m on a date with you. We had dinner, dessert, and we haven’t had sex yet. That’s pretty much the description of a date. Try again.”

  He smirks and rubs his long fingers over his lips, thinking. In the firelight, his hair shimmers with pieces of gold and his jaw is even more rugged.

  It’s a sight to behold.

  “I dare you to take your hair down,” he says, gesturing to the messy bun I have it pulled into.

  “That’s pretty easy.” I reach up and shake it out, letting my hair spill over my shoulders. His eyes widen, just a bit.

  “It’s not easy to sit here and watch you do that and not pull you under me so I can fuck you blind.”

  “So, you like my hair?”

  “I do.”

  I nod. “Okay, your turn. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  “Hmm.” I tilt my head, watching him. “Why did you keep asking me out, even after I turned you down more than once?”

  A slow grin slides over his lips. “Have you looked in a mirror, sweetheart?”

  “I don’t buy it,” I say, shaking my head. “Pretty girls are a dime a dozen. That doesn’t make a guy come back for more rejection.”

  “I liked the way your eyes lit up when I talked about the wines,” he says. “You are beautiful, but when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about, you just light up, and maybe I wanted that to last just a bit longer.”

  “That’s sweet,” I murmur.

  “Truth or Dare?” he asks.

  “Okay, I’ll cave. Truth.”

  “Tell me more about your family.”

  “My mom is great,” I begin and pluck at a loose thread on one of his pillows. “She’s still in Texas, and she has a knitting shop that she co-owns with my aunt.”

  “And your dad?”

  “The man who raised me owns a hardware store. He’s a good man and makes my mom happy. But my biological father? Never knew him,” I reply with a shrug. “He died in a drowning accident before I was born.”

  “That had to be tough for your mom.”

  “Broke her heart,” I agree. “She always talked about him, even after she married Bruce. Made sure to have photos of him about, but he was never a real person for me, you know? It’s like seeing a movie star in a movie. You can see that they exist, but you don’t actually have a relationship with that person.”

  “I get it.”

  “That’s my dad. From what I’ve been told, he was a good guy. Young, at only twenty-two when he died. But you can’t really mourn for a person you never knew.”

  “Can we keep going with the truth for a bit?” he asks, and I grin.

  “Sure.”

  “I told you why I kept asking you out. Now I want to know why you kept shooting me down.”

  I take a deep breath and he switches feet, massaging the other one, and I want to purr. The warmth of the room, the fire, the wine… It all relaxes me, and I feel safe in this place, with this man.

  So, I do what I rarely ever do… I talk.

  “A few reasons, really. First, because I’d always assumed that you were a bit of a man-slut. I know it’s not fair to label someone without knowing the whole story, but I knew you weren’t married, you’re in your thirties, and you flirt easily with just about any woman who looks your way. And let’s be honest, it’s mostly women at a wine tour.” I tilt my head to the side and watch the firelight bounce off his face. “And I’m not saying that I was looking for anything permanent, but I also don’t want to ever be just a notch in a bedpost.”

  “And the other reasons?”

  “Dating doesn’t ever really work out for me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  You’re not going to marry this guy. Just spill it.

  “I’m not really much of a catch. And trust me when I say, I’m not a martyr. It’s just the truth, because that’s one of our rules.”

  “I think that should be a rule all the time, not just tonight.”

  I nod and bite my lip, thinking.

  “You see, I don’t want children. Ever. I won’t apologize for the way I feel about it, and I most likely will never change my mind. It just is. I love being a teacher, and I love my students, but I don’t want to spend all day with them, then come home and have to continue parenting.”

  He switches back to my other foot, continuing to massage me, and it’s like a truth serum. I can’t make the words stop now.

  “It’s sad, but it feels like parents put a lot of the parenting responsibility on teachers these days. Maybe it’s always been that way, but I don’t remember it being quite like this when I was a kid. There are children who show up to school hungry, dirty, sad. Scared. They don’t have school supplies. Or lunch.”

  “And you give them all of those things.”

  “Of course I do. I can’t believe that their parents don’t provide the basic necessities for their children to learn. When they’re hungry and dirty, they’re distracted. They can’t learn, Chase, and it makes me so angry and sad, all at the same time. I love my job and I’m dedicated to it. And that’s good enough for me.

  “So, I’ve dated a couple of men, one was a long-term relationship of a couple of years. I was honest from the beginning. I don’t want kids. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be open to a relationship, and even marriage, if the right person came along.

  “So, two years into this thing, he says, ‘Maybe we should consider kids.’” I shake my head and take a sip of the fresh glass of wine that Chase just poured us both. “I said no. I hadn’t changed my mind in the least and asked him if he had wanted kids all along.”

  “Let me gues
s. He thought that as time passed, you’d change your mind.”

  “Bingo.” I shrug one shoulder and remember the hurt, the sense of betrayal that came with that. “I never lied to him. I never led him on. And he’s not the only one to do something like that. It’s almost like when I say in the beginning that I don’t want children, they think to themselves how cute, and expect me to come around eventually.”

  “I totally get it,” he says with a nod.

  “It’s just a waste of time,” I murmur. “So, yeah, I have a bit of a player reputation because I don’t commit to one guy and I do as I please. I’m a grown woman, and I’m not going to sulk at home just because I’ve made the decision to not have children. I’m not damaged or weird.”

  “Not at all,” he says with a smile. “You’re quite wonderful, really.”

  “Thanks. Okay, your turn. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  “Tell me about your family. I know Mac, but I don’t think I know much about your parents.”

  He takes a deep breath, chugs his wine, and gathers his thoughts.

  “They’re still married,” he begins. “And this is going to be a long story because it’ll inevitably lead to other questions, so I’ll just dump it all out at once.”

  “Wow, a truth dump. I don’t know about you, but I haven’t ever bared my soul like this before.”

  “No, this isn’t typical for me either. Maybe it’s the fire?”

  “The wine?” I add.

  “Maybe it’s just you,” he says softly. “And for the record, Maura, I’m glad you turned me down so much. It was a bruise to my ego, but you saying no made you that much more intriguing. It made me want to know more about you.”

  “I really wasn’t playing hard to get.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. If I thought for a moment that you were playing a game, I would have washed my hands of you long ago. No, I was just so damn interested to learn more, and I’m glad because now that I’ve learned more about you, both physically and emotionally, I think you are a catch. I think you’re pretty great.”

  “Now you’re just making my head big, and I won’t be able to get out the front door in the morning if you keep it up.”

  “You don’t have an ego,” he says and squeezes my foot before lifting it to his lips and kissing the pad of my big toe.

  “Do you have a foot fetish?”

  “Do you want the answer to that or the question about my family?”

  “Both. Start with the foot fetish.”

  “I don’t have a foot fetish, but I’m also not repulsed by feet. Yours are sexy as fuck.”

  “It’s because Tommy and I get pedicures every week. It’s our splurge.”

  He nods and kisses my toe again, and I practically melt right here on his couch.

  “Your lips should come with a warning label.”

  Chapter Nine

  ~Chase~

  “My father is addicted to gambling,” I begin, and feel the weird ball of anxiety form in my gut the way it always does when I talk about my parents. “It’s pretty bad, although he’s getting a handle on it now. Mom is severely codependent on him, makes excuses for him, you know what I mean.”

  “She loves him.”

  “She loves being needed, and let me tell you, my dad needs her. But he also put her in danger, and for that reason Mac and I, with the help of Kat, talked her into leaving him so he would get help. She hated every minute of it, but she came here to stay with me for a while and Dad went to rehab. Mac and I gladly paid for it.”

  “How are they now?”

  “Mom moved home, and Dad is working again. It seems to be better, but I don’t trust that she’d tell us if it got out of hand again. He owed the wrong people a lot of money. It was bad, and now it’s better, and that’s all we can really focus on.”

  “Makes sense to me,” she says. I love her soft voice. It’s soothing and sexy all rolled into one.

  “But, this is where my parents’ history takes a toll on my own social life. You see, they both have addictive personalities. Mom’s addicted to him, in a very codependent way, and clearly Dad has issues with gambling. It makes them weak.

  “I’m not embarrassed of them. I need to clarify that right away. At the core of it, they’re good people with huge flaws, just like most people. But I’ll never be that vulnerable when it comes to another human being. Watching them has taken a toll on how I feel about marriage. I’ve just never found someone who I thought was worth losing myself that way to. And I can totally understand where you’re coming from with the kids thing. I don’t want children either, and I had a vasectomy three years ago. Not because I had to or because I already have children and don’t want any more. I did it because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I don’t want kids. I don’t want to pass addiction on to them, and it’s another vulnerability that I just don’t want to go through.”

  “Wow.”

  I look up to find her staring at me, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. “Have I scared you off?”

  “Not at all. It’s refreshing to have an honest conversation and not feel judged. I’m my mom’s only child, and the fact that I refuse to give her grandchildren is a huge issue for her. And I get it, I really do. It’s a natural thing to want to have grandkids, and I’m sorry that I can’t give them to her, because I think she’d be fantastic at it.”

  “It sucks to feel guilty,” I reply and rub up her calf, feeling her muscles tense as she talks about what is clearly a difficult subject for her. “And it was total bullshit that any dude you were with tried to change who you are.”

  “I know.” She scratches her scalp and then rubs her hands over her eyes, giving zero shits about her makeup. “I’m not anti kids. My friends can each have a dozen of them if they want to, just like I have the right to not have any. And I love my mom, but I dread our weekly calls because she’ll inevitably ask me if I’m seeing anyone, and I know she’s anxious for me to get married because then she can talk me into a baby.

  “It’s not happening.”

  “You’ve pretty much climbed into my head and said what I think.” My hand glides up to her knee and her skin breaks out in goose bumps.

  “At least now we both know we’re not alone.”

  I can’t stand it anymore. I need to touch her. All of her. Slowly and thoroughly, no more fast and hard.

  I crawl along the couch and plant one knee between her legs, cupping her face and meeting her lips with mine. The kiss starts slow and soft and builds, until I’m scorched from the intensity of her.

  Maybe it’s the darkness, or the wine, or the fire. Hell, I don’t know what it is, but I’ve never felt this connected to another human being in my life.

  I stand and help her to her feet, then lift her in my arms and carry her to the bedroom. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my chin. Just that little kiss has my dick on full alert.

  “You’re killing me, baby.”

  “Me?” She bats her eyelashes, as if she’s innocent. “What did I do?”

  “I’m gonna show you.” I lower her to her feet. She slips easily out of her dress, leaving a baby blue lacy bra and panties, and I’m quite sure I just swallowed my tongue.

  Fucking hell, she’s gorgeous.

  “You’re overdressed.” She grins and reaches for my T-shirt, lifting it over my head and letting it fall to the floor. She unfastens my pants and lets them fall around my ankles and drags the palm of her hand over the shaft of my cock. “This is impressive.”

  “You seem to keep me in a semi-hard state most of the time,” I inform her and watch with humor as her eyes darken with lust. “And then you look at me like that, and all thoughts I had of taking my time with you fly out the window because I want to devour you.”

  “You say such pretty words,” she murmurs and slips her bra down her shoulders, letting it fall and exposing her breasts. “And that body of yours? Jesus, Chase, you look photoshopped.”

  “I work out,” I reply
with a smirk.

  “Clearly.”

  She pushes a fingertip under the waistband of my briefs and drags it back and forth, just touching my lower stomach. Finally, she tugs my briefs down my thighs, and to my surprise, kneels.

  “You always use your mouth on me.” She grips my shaft in her fist and I have to close my eyes to keep myself under control.

  Fuck me, the sight of Maura kneeling with my dick in her hands is enough to make a younger me come without any other help.

  She licks the underside, along the vein, and up around the tip. I have to grip her soft hair in my hands to stay steady. If she wants this, I won’t say no.

  “You’re so hard,” she says before taking more of me into her mouth and tightening her lips, then pulling up and making me see stars.

  “I noticed,” I bite out. She glances up at me with a grin and repeats the motion, then cups my balls in her little hand, and I can’t take it anymore.

  I pull back and help her onto the bed, then cover her with my body and kiss her senseless.

  “I wasn’t done,” she says with a pout when I finally let up on the kiss.

  “Trust me. If I’d let you keep going, I would have been done in about three seconds, and I want this to last a little while.”

  “I can’t do marathon sex tonight,” she says, shaking her head. “Marathon birthday sex was fun, but I can’t do that two nights in a row. You almost killed me.”

  “Now who’s stroking whose ego?” I ask before biting her neck gently. She licks her lip and drags her fingernails up my back. “I just don’t want to rush it this time.”

  “Okay. That works.”

  I tug her nipple into my mouth and suck firmly, then move on to the other one before kissing her shoulder and back up her neck to her mouth.

  “I have to go into the bathroom for a condom,” I say with regret. “I don’t keep them by the bed.”

  Because I don’t usually have sex in my bed.

  “You’ve had a vasectomy.” She brushes her fingertips down my cheek. “I think we’re okay.”

  “Are you sure?”

  In response, she reaches between us, takes my cock in her small hand and guides it to her pussy, making my eyes cross.