by Sophia Gray
Then he’d been weird. He’d been so weird. I’d asked the wrong question. I could kick myself now for it. Was that what good sex did to a person? Turn them into a total idiot?
No, damn it. I won’t do this to myself. I had every right to ask. It was a totally innocent question. I did that all the time when I was with Lucas. All the nights I spent in bed, cowering in the dark, wondering what I’d done this time to upset him. I shouldn’t have made that remark, shouldn’t have looked at him that way. I should have known better than to set him off. It’s become a reflex, I guess, blaming myself for another person’s actions.
Besides, it wasn’t as if Christopher kicked me out of the house for it. He didn’t even ask me to go back to the spare bedroom. We spent the night right here, with me in his arms. It was bliss. The best sleep I’ve had in years, and I almost never liked sleeping close to Lucas. I was never comfortable.
I’m wide awake now, thoughts of my miserable past driving sleep far away. I look at Christopher’s body. God, he’s beautiful. An underwear model on a billboard is the first thing that comes to mind, every muscle fully defined. Yet he’s not some preening, prissy boy, obsessed with his looks. There isn’t even a mirror anywhere in this room. He’s a man, truly and fully. Rugged, take charge. His body is the result of hard work, not hard workouts.
That being said, there’s a certain part of him that is not the result of workouts. I glance up at his face, still peaceful in sleep. I still hear his snores. I take the opportunity to get a peek under the sheets, currently around his hips. Damn. The boy is blessed. I remember the way he felt inside me. So big. So thick. It’s all I can do to keep myself from jumping him right this minute.
It’s best to let him sleep. He seems to be happy when he’s asleep, his face falling into much softer lines. Normally, he looks like he’s got a chip on his shoulder, like he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop. His brow is almost permanently creased in thought. I wonder what happened to make him look that way.
There are demons aplenty in this man’s life. I wish I could help him, just as much as I wish I could stop myself from wanting to help him. It’s not my job. He’s not my responsibility. I don’t have to take care of anybody but myself.
I can’t help the desire, though. Damn it.
Am I falling for him?
It’s like he hears my thoughts, stirring. One eye opens ever so slightly, then closes immediately. “So bright.”
I giggle. “Yeah, that’s usually what happens in the morning.”
“What time is it? I’m usually up when it’s still dark.”
I roll over, checking my phone on the nightstand. “It’s after eight o’clock.”
“Are you serious? I have to go down to let Scout out. I’m surprised he hasn’t been whining at the door yet.” I give him room to sit up, drinking in the sight of him, the way every muscle plays beneath his skin like a symphony. I hate myself for even thinking something so corny, but it’s true.
Then he stands, and that magnificent ass is on display. Only for a moment, though, as he pulls on a pair of jeans. He’s so sexy.
“You want some breakfast?” He looks back, smiling.
“Yeah, sure. You want to cook?”
“I’m not completely clueless. I did eat just fine when you weren’t here.”
I decide to leave it there and not challenge him on cooking being “girly.”
A short time later I join him in the kitchen, my heart in my throat. I found an oversize sweatshirt of his in the closet and decided to wear it instead of my three-day-old sweater.
He looks me up and down, not saying a word before turning back to the stove.
“I hope you don’t mind. I just couldn’t bear the idea of putting that same sweater on again.”
A moment’s hesitation. “No, no, I get it. I don’t mind at all.”
Hmm. “Are you sure? I can take it off.”
He looks back to where I’ve sat at the kitchen table, a grin on his face. “You can definitely take it off if you want to. I wouldn’t say no.” I scowl, making him laugh before he turns back to the stove. “I was just thinking how cute you look in it.”
I smile, like a complete goon, from ear to ear. “Really?”
“Really. You should wear my clothes more often.”
I blush, wondering if he’s thinking along the same lines as I am. Wouldn’t that be something? A story we could tell our grandkids. How Grandpa rescued Grandma from a blizzard, and they fell in love.
Ugh. Again, so corny. What’s come over me?
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Oh, um, whatever’s easiest for you. Usually scrambled, but I like overeasy and sunny side, too.”
“You’re in luck. Scrambled eggs are my specialty.”
I watch as he cooks, not giving a damn about what’s on the stove. He’s still in just his jeans, looking more delicious than anything he could serve up. There’s something about the sight of a man in the kitchen, especially when he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
“There’s fresh coffee over here, by the way.”
I’m desperate for caffeine. I rush for the pot. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“Please. I think you’ve done enough this weekend.” He chuckles softly.
“I cooked a little bit. Big deal. It’s not enough.”
“Enough?”
“To make up for what you did for me. It’ll never be enough.”
He turns, seeing the dead-serious look on my face. “Hey.” He comes over to me. “I don’t need a payback, so don’t worry about it. I was in the right place at the right time. I’m just glad I was able to reach you before it was too late.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb. I’m mesmerized. “I’m glad I got to know you.”
I feel like my heart is exploding into a million rays of light. “Me, too.”
He leans in, just about to kiss me, before his eyes fly open. “The food. I’ll take a raincheck.”
I laugh, then tingle all over at the thought of a raincheck. I wonder what that’s going to involve.
Breakfast is delicious. Eggs, bacon, toast. Simple but filling.
“You know, not everybody can get eggs right. Or bacon, for that matter. You have good instincts.”
“What’s so hard about bacon?”
“It’s easy to burn. There’s nothing so sad as burned bacon.” We toast to this, touching our coffee cups in mid-air. “Seriously, though. I think you’d make a good cook.”
He laughs. “Cooking was never something the people in my life considered something a boy should be doing.” He winces, and laughs again.
“They were stupid. No offense.”
“None taken, because they were.” He shakes his head, remembering. “If they knew I was a landscaper now, they’d laugh their asses off at me.”
“Why?”
“Because I plant flowers and bushes. Trees. I mow grass and lay down mulch. It’s tough fucking work.”
“I can imagine!”
“But to them I’d be…a sissy. To put it nicely. They wouldn’t use the word ‘sissy.’”
“I get it.”
“I always loved it, though, when I was a kid. Being outside, watching things grow. It was like magic. Sometimes I’d ride my bike through the nicer neighborhoods just to see the way people with money would have their landscaping done. It sounds stupid.” He ducks his head.
“Not stupid at all. Really.”
“I guess, growing up the way I did, there wasn’t much… I don’t know…beauty. The closest my mom came to a garden was plastic flowers and a pink flamingo. Otherwise, I lived in a trailer on cinder blocks.”
I nod sympathetically, getting a much clearer picture of the man in front of me. No wonder he has so many walls built up in front of him. I wish I could give him a hug, the poor thing. “For the record, a man who cooks is just about the sexiest thing in the world.”
“I’ve heard that. It’s really true?”
I stand, sliding my panties to the floor. Then I tak
e his hand, placing it between my legs. His eyes widen before his fingers begin moving through my wetness.
“You tell me,” I breathe.
Chapter 15
“Wow,” he whispers, already breathing more heavily. “I guess I’d better brush up on my cooking skills, huh?”
I giggle, then moan softly as his fingers begin massaging my clit. “I was thinking about getting washed up. What do you think?”
He nods, his eyes wider, his breathing heavier still. I glance down to see the growing bulge in his pants. I have to tear myself away from the hand between my legs long enough to walk upstairs. I pull the sweatshirt over my head as I go.
What’s come over me? I’ve never been so brazen, so forward. He’s unlocked something inside me for sure. I might never be the same.
I reach the bathroom first, turning on the water in the big claw foot tub before turning to him. I run my hands down his chest and torso before stopping at his waistband, then unbutton his fly. I never break eye contact, staring up into his eyes. A small smile plays over his mouth.
I slide the jeans down his legs, over his feet. Then I step into the tub, the water running hot now. Steam is already filling the room. He joins me, bringing the temperature up even higher.
We soap each other up, taking our time. His hands are all over me, everywhere. My skin is on fire from his touch. He slowly, thoroughly soaps my breasts. His hands are moving in circles over them. I sigh, closing my eyes to soak in the sensation. When his fingers close in on my nipples, I groan, holding onto his shoulders to keep myself upright.
He wraps one strong arm around me, holding my body close to him. I feel his cock against me, pressing into me. He’s so hard, so thick. I wiggle against him, my soapy skin sliding over his stiffness. He groans into my mouth. I reach down between us, my hand closing over his erection. I start stroking slowly. He thrusts into my hand as his tongue thrusts into my mouth.
His free hand runs down my back to my ass. I gasp, pulling my mouth from his to moan. He takes my thigh in his hand, pulling my leg up and around his hip. He presses me to the wall, finding my heat and plunging into it.
“Oh, Christopher!” I grip his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he rocks against me. He fills me so completely, pushing into me again and again.
“Yes…yes…Amanda…” The way he grunts my name as he thrusts into me drives me insane. Knowing I have this power over him, that I can control his pleasure, is more than enough to combine with the physical pleasure and send me over the edge.
“Christopher!” I scream his name, head thrown back. I shudder all over, my head now dropping to his shoulder. My grip on him relaxes, relief flooding my body.
He’s not finished, however. He slides out of me, steadying me on my rather shaky legs. He washes quickly down there, still hard. I follow his lead, then follow him into the bedroom.
We’re both wrapped in big, fluffy towels. Another touch of comfort I wouldn’t expect a hard, tough man like him to indulge in. Christopher sits on the bed, towel around his waist, holding out a hand for me to stand in front of him. He unwraps me, my nipples instantly rock-hard from the cool air and excitement.
Then he surprises me, tenderly drying my skin with the towel. I watch him, his face serious, involved in his job. Where does this come from, this sudden gentleness? I place a hand on the back of his neck, kneading it gently as he works. I think of the sweet boy he must have been, in contrast to the man he thought he needed to become.
His mouth closes over one my breasts, drawing a sigh from me. He pulls me closer, his hands on my hips. It feels so good, his skilled tongue rolling in circles over my nipple, making my breath come faster and harder so soon after my last climax. He knows me so well, exactly what will turn me on and drive me insane.
Then he stands in front of me, letting the towel fall from his waist. He holds the back of my head, then takes handfuls of my hair. He pulls my head back, tilting my face to his. I gasp, hissing through my teeth. It’s surprising, but arousing.
“Do you like that?” He tugs my hair again, just enough to make me gasp.
It hurts, but just a little. Mostly, it feels incredible, sending flashes of warmth straight to my core. “Yes,” I whisper, earning another slight tug in reply. I bite my lip, moaning again.
He kisses me deeply, overtaking me. His hands are still in my hair, pulling, while his tongue sweeps through my mouth. I groan loudly, desperate for more. He sucks my bottom lip between his own. He takes it between his teeth, biting down. I gasp, but when he stops, I kiss him even harder. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been, wanting more.
He pushes me to the bed, then lowers himself over me. His mouth touches every bit of my skin, setting me on fire. I can’t think, can hardly breathe, can only sink deeper into the pleasure he’s giving me.
Before long, his mouth is on my mound, licking my lips. My hips leave the bed, sensation rocking me. His tongue laps at me, flicking against my clit. I never thought I liked oral sex until I was with him. Now I see what the big deal is about as Christopher’s mouth drives me crazy with passion.
“Oh, God! Please!” My body tenses as I scream again and again, the tongue on my pussy sending me over the edge.
I’m not even finished coming before Christopher stretches out beside me, on his back. “Let me watch you,” he mutters, stroking himself.
I get up on my hands and knees, then straddle him. I guide him into my wetness, then sink slowly down until he’s in up to the hilt. “You feel so good,” I whisper, grinding my hips against him. I find the best angle, the best rhythm for me. He holds onto my ass, watching me as I get myself off on him. His hands knead me, stroke me, even dip between my cheeks. It’s so wrong, so wicked. And it makes me even crazier.
“That’s right. Make yourself come for me.”
I look down at him, his gorgeous body, his face. His eyes, staring up at me with so much heat. I see myself in them, actually see myself as sexy. Sexual. Sensual. My thrusting picks up, gets faster, harder.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he groans. For the first time, I believe him.
I lean down, stretching my body over his, still moving up and down. He takes my hips more firmly in his hands, forcing me down onto him harder. He starts thrusting up into me, and I moan into his neck.
“Come for me,” he grunts in my ear. I moan again, his words pushing me closer to climax. He starts slamming me down, thrusting with all his might.
I tighten around him, then my muscles twitch and jump as the pleasure washes over me.
He’s still holding on, waiting for me to finish. Once my muscles relax around him, he lifts me up. “From behind,” he growls. Like an animal. I love it.
No sooner am I on my hands and knees, he’s back inside me, slamming himself home. I shriek, the orgasm building so quickly. I realize I’m having another one, already. I don’t think I can take it.
I feel Christopher’s hand in my hair, pulling it again. I scream, the sensation too much to handle. “Fuck! Christopher!” It’s like I’m exploding from the inside, into a million pieces. Then I dissolve, washed over with warmth. He’s still slamming, faster and faster, until his cries tell me he’s coming, too.
“Oh, Jesus,” he breathes, sliding out of me before falling on his side.
I can’t reply. I’m too lost, floating in a haze of pleasure. He keeps taking me to heights I didn’t think were possible. I never thought I’d be into pain—though it wasn’t pain, exactly. More like play. Still, he overwhelmed me. Conquered me.
“Wow. Even after all that showering, I feel like I need another one…” he jokes.
I laugh, smacking his arm lightly. “You’re a pretty dirty guy. You need all the help you can get.”
He rolls onto his side, grabbing me. I scream with laughter, trying to wrestle free of him. He’s too strong.
Soon, we’re kissing again, but this time, it doesn’t go anywhere. Kissing is enough.
Chapter 16
We both shower again, needi
ng to get cleaned up after all that. “We have to conserve water,” Christopher tells me before getting in with me.
I don’t bother putting up a fight. I don’t want to. I laugh instead, pulling him close to me and offering to soap him up. By the time we’re finished, the water is nearly ice cold.
This is bliss. Could every day be this way? I’m not naïve. I know it wouldn’t be this way forever. All relationships calm down eventually. We’re in the new phase. If Christopher and I got together, we wouldn’t be hopping in and out of bed every day.
Though I wouldn’t complain if we did. From the grin he can’t seem to keep off his face, I don’t think he’d mind, either.
