Bad Habit: Downey Brothers Series

by Mara Leigh

  “Oh.” Her stomach growled, and she rolled slightly away, propping herself up as if hoping I hadn’t noticed. Her nerves were even more obvious than her hunger. “But I don’t know how to do intercourse.”

  “Don’t worry.” At least she wasn’t calling it fornication anymore. “You’ll figure it out.” If I was sure of anything, I was sure of that. The anticipation throbbed in my cock.

  “Let’s get some food.” I ran my hand down her spine and stroked her ass, then before I got carried away, I sat, accidentally pulling the duvet off our naked bodies.

  To my surprise, she didn’t immediately try to cover back up. Still, as I got out of the bed, I turned away to let her be modest, and then stretched my back and arms as I walked toward the glass, giving her some time to put the robe on.

  “Can anyone see through the windows?” she asked.

  “I doubt it.” I turned toward her, surprised she was still naked, kneeling on the bed and facing the windows. Facing me. “Do you like the idea of someone watching us?” I asked.

  Her breath caught, and she shook her head. Her hands landed low on her belly as if her body was disagreeing with her answer.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  It had been dark for hours, but the lights of the city were nearly as bright as the sun had been when we’d first arrived. I checked my watch. “Two-thirty-seven.”

  She sighed. “Too late for food, then.”

  “Not in Vegas. Shall we eat in the room?”

  “Yes, please.” She clapped her hands together like a little kid, and it was beyond adorable. The lights bounced off her pale skin and danced in her eyes, but it was more like the lights came from inside her, like she could make any room she entered brighter, more filled with wonder.

  Warmth filled my chest in a way I barely recognized, in a way that made me want to look down to check whether someone had pressed a heating pad against me, even though I knew the heat came from inside.

  I wanted this woman, and not just to fuck her. I loved being around her, how she made me feel like a better man, not a lowlife criminal. She was so good she had goodness to spare, and being around her made me feel like I could be a good person, too. If only I could feel like this always.

  I didn’t want this night, this trip, to end. As long as we stayed in Vegas, stayed in this room, I could pretend that there was a chance Faith could be mine, pretend we were in an alternate universe where she wasn’t becoming a nun, where I was even a tiny percent of the kind of man good enough to be with someone like her.

  “What do you feel like eating?” I walked toward the dining area where the menu was sitting.

  “Anything.”

  “Cheeseburger?”

  “Sure. I’ve never had one.”

  “Really?” I stuck my head back into the bedroom to see whether she was teasing. “I think you’ll love it.”

  I called room service from the dining room phone, and they said they’d be twenty to thirty minutes. I returned to the bedroom, but she wasn’t there.

  In an instant, my heart cracked. I knew she hadn’t disappeared into thin air, but her absence made the night seem like a dream, and reality smacked me hard in the face.

  Thinking this night was more than just sex was pure delusion.

  Nine

  Faith

  Wandering into the closet, I found two clean robes and put one on, belting it more loosely this time, and I smiled at the sight of my purchases hanging there. With all that had happened, I’d almost forgotten my shopping spree and couldn’t believe that someone in the hotel had taken the time to hang all the new clothes in our closet.

  I ran my fingers along the shimmering silver cocktail dress and the linen slacks with a matching sleeveless top, and as much as I thought the clothing was beautiful, the best things I’d ever seen, never mind owned, I was glad to see all the tags were still on. Shopping had been fun, my little greed exercise, but tomorrow I’d return them.

  “I can’t wait to see you in those.”

  I spun to find Mac in the closet doorway. Naked. His penis exposed. I tried not to stare. It wasn’t stiff and against his stomach like it had been earlier, but neither did it look as harmless as it had right after his ejaculation.

  “Shall I try something on?” I turned away from him to pick something out.

  He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “A fashion show?” His body brushed against my backside and sparked renewed excitement inside me. It was like my body knew what was in store for me later, better than my mind did.

  I pressed back with my bottom, wanting to feel his hardness against my body.

  “That’s gotta wait,” he growled in my ear as he pulled his hips back. “I ordered food.”

  He grabbed the other clean robe, put it on, and then bent forward to kiss my neck.

  “God, you smell good,” he said.

  “I like how you smell, too.” Turning my head to the side, I inhaled deeply, trying to name Mac’s scent—something earthy, and spicy, and salty—an aroma I’d never experienced before, at least not in this combination, and I loved every bit of it.

  Putting my hands around his neck, I rose up for a kiss, but he turned away from my lips.

  “Let’s save the fashion show for tomorrow. Food will be here soon.” Taking my hand, he led me back into the dining area and pulled out a chair.

  “The sofa’s more comfortable.” I continued forward but was stopped short by his tug on my hand.

  I turned back, and the look in his eyes was so intense. “What’s wrong?”

  “Not sure more comfortable is what we need right now. Maybe we should keep a little distance.”

  “Oh.” I felt foolish. All I wanted to do was snuggle in his arms, feel the heat and strength of his body next to mine, and maybe see how it felt to rub his hardness against me.

  I couldn’t get enough of Mac, but I kept forgetting that all this lust was normal for him, routine. He’d already shown me so much, made me feel so much. I was wrong to expect more. Greedy.

  In fact, I’d never felt so greedy. It was like some invisible force was tugging at me, making me want to touch Mac—all the time—but clearly that invisible force was one-sided.

  I slid into the chair he’d pulled out for me and he sat at the table’s head, looking slightly uncomfortable. I longed to bring back the ease between us. Had it only been my imagination?

  My gaze caught his. He smiled and stretched out his hand toward me. I lifted mine from my lap, and our fingers laced together, our fingers stroking and exploring as our eyes remained locked. Some contact was better than no contact, but it just made me want more.

  “You’re amazing,” he said.

  “I am?” I tipped my head to the side. “In what way?”

  “I’ve never met anyone so brave, or so good. Or anyone so sure of what she wants.”

  His thumb stroked my palm, and I shuddered at the thrill it sent coursing through me. I certainly knew what I wanted right now, even if I couldn’t fully name it. “I want more of you.”

  He leaned back. “That’s not what I mean. I meant what you want in life.”

  “But I have no idea what I want.”

  “Yes you do,” he said. “You know the important stuff.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure about anything.”

  His eyebrows drew more closely together. “But you have a calling.”

  Looking at the connection between our hands, I drew a long breath. “Lately… I don’t know. With all I learned about Mother, I wonder…” I wanted to talk more about this, and there was no one I wanted to discuss it with more than Mac, but not now. Not when I felt tired and romantic and hungry. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. This is sin time.” I looked into his eyes, hoping to convey the lust my body was feeling.

  “Okay.” He shook his head. “What happens in Vegas…”

  I waited, then asked, “What happens in Vegas?”

  “Stays here. When we get home, every
thing will go back to normal. I have to believe that.” He looked worried.

  “You have to believe it? Why?”

  “Because…” He stared down at the table, shaking his head.

  “Please.” I squeezed his hand as my heart squeezed in my chest. “What’s wrong?”

  His gaze snapped up. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  “It’s all over you.” I leaned forward, lifting partially out of my chair, an invisible force wanting to catapult me over the corner of the table and into his lap. Something was weighing on his soul, and I wanted to lift it off.

  He leaned forward and kissed me, softly, but it was a kiss that set off a million explosions inside me.

  No longer able to hold back, I rose, rounded the corner of the table, and kissed him.

  He pushed back his chair, and I slid onto this lap. Threading his fingers through my hair, he cupped my head and kissed me, hard, in a way that tightened my insides, reminding my womanly parts what he’d done to them earlier.

  I opened my mouth and pulled his tongue inside, loving how it felt like it belonged there, how we were breathing together, how I felt at home in his arms. In fact, I could live like this forever. Live forever in his arms, kissing Mac, touching Mac, sustained solely by the warmth and strength from his body.

  How was I ever going to survive if I didn’t get to kiss him every day—all day every day—for the rest of my life?

  Someone knocked on our door, and Mac broke our kiss.

  “Don’t stop.” I pulled his face toward mine.

  “The food.” He held his lips back from mine. “It’s here.”

  “I don’t need food.” I ran my hand down his chest, hoping to loosen his robe’s belt to give me access to his penis. “I need you.”

  He rose, lifting me with him and setting me down on the table. “But first, we both need some food.”

  Faith

  As disappointed as I’d been when he’d chosen the room service over me, the second I smelled the food, hunger took over from lust. And after tasting the cheeseburger, fries, and milkshake he’d ordered, I realized he’d been right. Even though I couldn’t get through half of the greasy, delicious mound of food, I felt recharged, satisfied at the decadence of the meal—salty and rich and sweet all at once.

  Mac pushed away his nearly finished food, then wiped his face with his napkin and tossed it on top of the plate. Adjusting his robe, he pushed back from the table.

  As much as he’d tried to hide the evidence, it was plain to see that his penis was erect again, but that wasn’t all I noticed. Something was still on his mind. In fact, nothing had been the same between us since we’d come out of the bedroom.

  “Mac.” I set my hand on the table between us. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Bothering me?” Making a face like I was crazy, he shook his head. “I’m in Vegas with a beautiful woman. I just stuffed myself with good food. What the hell could be bothering me?” He stood and bent to kiss me.

  I put my hands on his shoulders to hold him back. “No more kissing until you tell me.”

  Still bent over me, his hands on the arms of my chair, he shook his head. “There’s nothing. Come on. It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

  “When I told you that I was questioning my life, my calling. You feel responsible, don’t you?”

  “What?” He shook his head, but his eyes told me I was right.

  “Don’t feel guilty.” I cupped the side of his face. “I’ve been questioning my calling since I talked to my aunt. It’s not just about you.”

  “Sure, but… I…”

  “Me not becoming a nun… it scares you.”

  He nodded, slowly.

  His honesty cut me deeply, but I understood. “Don’t worry, Mac. Even if I don’t enter the convent, I don’t expect anything from you. Even after we have intercourse, I don’t expect you to marry me—”

  Air burst from his chest as he pushed back from my chair. “Marry you?”

  His reaction hurt more than I cared to admit, but I was strong. I could push through this, control my emotions.

  “I may be old-fashioned and naive, but I know that sex and marriage don’t always go together.” I leaned forward. “Please. Don’t worry. That’s not what I expect from you. And I appreciate how you’re helping me understand sin and experience new things. I don’t expect this to turn into something life-lasting. Don’t be afraid.”

  “You don’t get it,” he turned away from me. “The idea that you’d expect marriage after we… That didn’t even occur to me.”

  I rose and put my hand softly on his back. “Then what?”

  He slowly turned back to face me. “I’m afraid that I’ll ruin you.”

  “Ruin me? You mean by taking my virginity?”

  “No. More than that. Faith…” He shook his head like he couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say. “You’re such a good person. And I’m not.”

  “That’s nonsense.” I reached up to put my hand on his chest. “You are good, Mac. I can tell. You have so much goodness in you. More than you know.”

  “You don’t know a thing about me.”

  “Yes I do. You helped me with the kids, and doing this—” I gestured around the room. “You’re doing all of this just for me. You’re so kind and thoughtful and patient. And you’ve done it all without asking for anything in return.”

  Grunting, he grabbed my hand and pushed it against his erection. “Believe me. I plan to get what I want.”

  I gasped at the hard heat against my hand, at the way it made me feel, and at the rising desire evident in his eyes.

  In a second, his expression had turned from concern into something dark, something animalistic, and caught under that gaze, having it trap me like a rabbit stared down by a wolf, excitement raced through me, combined with fear.

  “That’s not what I meant.” My face heated, my entire body heated as my hand pressed against his hardness and he looked at me like he was capable of my utter destruction. “You were kind to me, to the children, to everyone without expecting…” I tried to pull my hand away, but he pressed it in harder, starting to rub my palm along it.

  His eyes narrowed. “Maybe all this time, maybe I did all that just because I wanted to fuck you.” His member twitched in my hand, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

  “You spent weeks helping a nun to coach basketball just to seduce her?” That fear had been inside me at first, but I no longer believed it. At least, I didn’t want to.

  He laughed and released his pressure on my hand, but I kept it there, wanting to stroke him like he’d done to himself. Wanting to slide my hand under his robe to feel his member without a barrier as it continued to it grow and stiffen, as it pressed up against his belly beneath my touch.

  My breathing turned labored as I pictured the sinful things I wanted. I wanted to bend over and kiss its tip. I wanted to know how he tasted—just like he’d tasted me. I wanted to make him ejaculate in my hand.

  “Hey,” he said. “My face is up here.”

  Embarrassed, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

  His expression had softened. He was back to the Mac I knew and loved. And I did love him.

  I wasn’t sure what that meant or what to make of it, yet, but I knew it was true. This man—I didn’t have any expectations of marriage, or even that he might love me back—but I knew that this man was part of me now, part of my heart, and would stay there through this life and after.

  I stroked him through his robe, and he captured my lips in a hard kiss, claiming my mouth with ferocity and passion, our lips joining, tongues sparring.

  His hand slid under my robe and between my legs, and I gasped at the sudden rush of lust, shocked at how much my body appreciated his aggressive possession of my most private places, how I didn’t mind as his fingers claimed my slippery folds, stroking, pushing up like he might almost lift me from the floor. He plunged one of his fingers inside me.

  “Oh.” I sighed into his mouth.
/>
  “Like that?”

  “Yes.” My voice came out like a hiss, and one of my legs lifted from the carpet, sliding up his bare thigh, lifting his robe with it. His leg hair stroked my inner thigh and heightened all I was feeling. Pressing his forehead against mine, he drove his finger in and out of me slowly, deliberately, rubbing my insides, the most private parts of me, like he knew my body far better than I knew it myself, like he owned me, ruled me. Commanded me with his index finger.

  “I’m going to fuck you now.”

  I exhaled as I looked into his eyes and then nodded.

  Mac’s finger slid from inside me and he scooped me into his arms, carried me to the bedroom, and laid me down on the bed. I unbelted my robe and opened it to the sides as he shrugged out of his, and then he ripped the top of a small foil packet he’d retrieved from the bedside table.

  I watched as he slid what I knew was a condom over his stiffened member, and as he turned toward me, I couldn’t keep my eyes off his hardness, its length, its girth.

  It had been one thing to have his finger inside me, but this act we were about to perform hardly seemed physically possible. I knew it would be painful. But I wanted it anyway.

  He straddled my body, kneeling above me, and then bent to kiss me. The kiss was tender, gentle, and it put me at ease as his hand played with my breasts and then traveled lower to slide again between my legs.

  With his hand down there, I forgot what I’d been frightened about.

  One of his knees nudged between mine, and I widened my legs to make room for his as he continued to kiss me softly. His fingers stroked between my legs, traveling over and over from the back to the front and then slowly circling in the most sensitive places at my opening and clit.

  “Ready?” he asked between kisses.

  “Yes.”

  He looked into my eyes. “You sure? Because you need to be sure. It’s okay if you change your mind.”

  “I’m sure. I want this.” I wanted it so badly, even though I was scared. Everything else we’d done had scared me too, being kissed, being naked, having a man touch me, put his fingers—his mouth—on my sex. And all of those things had felt a million times better than I’d ever imagined. If intercourse was the main attraction? Well, I couldn’t wait.