“Do you want me, Paul?” I ask and then ever enticingly I lick my bottom lip, slowly.
“Fuck, May. You know I do,” he tells me as his eyes follow the path of my tongue. The unspoken language that we have mastered over the years is making itself present because at the same time, we both go in for a kiss, a deep, slow, meaningful kiss which holds us together. We kiss with more passion than anyone has ever used before. Wrapping his arms around my lower back, he picks me up so we are the same height, all while still locked in this amazing kiss.
Laying me down on the bed is slow and exquisite, almost like he doesn’t want to let go.
“That’s the best smile I have ever seen on your face,” he says, undoing his pants and throwing them to the floor.
“My best friend,” is all I can say in kind of a how-did-I not-see-it kind of way.
“Oh, I know what you mean,” he says, slowly crawling on the bed and towering over me.
“You know you are very intimidating to other guys,” he says while tracing kisses down the slope of my neck.
“Am I?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
He stops and looks at me. “I said other guys, not me, babe.”
“That’s good to know.”
“You’ll do best to remember that in the future. I have seen the way you keep guys out, but then you turn around and let me in so easily. I think that’s maybe why I fell in love with you because you give me a part of you that no one else gets to have.”
“Paul, I talked to my friend. I didn’t give you ammo to assault my feelings, and if you keep people away far enough, they won’t hurt you . . . case in point, Kevin. I let him in . . . look what he did.” My hands cup his face to look at me.
Hint, hint. Paul; don’t you dare hurt me.
“Stop talking now, please,” he says, taking his face out of my hands.
I chew the inside of my lip. How do we go about this? I mean, earlier Paul took the lead and the control, I was just along for the mind-blowing ride.
He grabs my shorts and pulls them off me in one smooth motion. There’s no tip toeing now either, apparently. He covers my body with his and parts my thighs. God, I want him.
He slides into me in that painfully slow way I didn’t know he could do. Most of his sex stories, that he for some reason just had to tell me, always sounded very fast-paced. His face is buried in my neck as if he is trying to have as much contact as possible. It feels amazing. I try to move my hips.
“Stop, May. You aren’t controlling this,” he says in between kisses down the other side of my neck.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I ask, a little frustrated.
Laughing, all he says is, “Just enjoy it.”
D-o-n-e.
Next thing I know, he pulls me up and puts me on his lap while he stays sitting on the bed so that I am straddling his back with my knees. The second time he slides in is even better than the first time. I didn’t think it was possible for him to get deeper, but he does. I wrap my arms around him and press my body against his everywhere I can. You can’t get any more connected than this, and then we start to move. We rock and sway into each other, the whole time looking into each other’s eyes, softly and with meaning.
“May . . . Fuuuck!” Paul growls against my throat as I tilt my head back.
His hands grab my hair from behind my back and hold me in this position. Talk about trusting someone fully. I’m not controlling anything. All track of time is lost, but I don’t care. All that fills my mind is how incredible this feels.
The orgasm is gaining strength, and it’s not going to be long before I’m there.
“I can feel you getting ready to come, May. Fuck it feels so damn amazing.”
“Yes, it does,” I say, smiling into the air.
“Oh . . . God . . . Paul . . . Pa–”
“Come for me, May. Come on me while I’m in you. Show me, please, May.”
The magical words roll over my sensitive skin, and I throw my head back again, this time so hard that I start to arch too much. Paul’s strong hands are there spread over my upper back, holding me to him, so he can feel every shake from me inside and out. Next, I hear him clench his teeth, feel him tighten his grip and watch as he lets go, satisfied that I’ve gotten mine.
Perfection.
“Fuck,” is all he can get out. We sit there like we are for a few moments to let our senses come back to us.
“That was hands down the best sex I have ever had, May . . . thank you for letting it be you that gave it to me,” he says in between kisses on my shoulder and neck.
I squeeze my core muscles, just to see what he’ll do.
“Do that again.”
I do.
“And again.”
Again, I do.
“Okay, stop. Too much,” he says with a little laugh and groan mixed together.
I laugh as I climb off him and flop onto my back on the bed.
“It’s good to hear you laugh again; I just didn’t realize that I had to fuck it out of you or else I would have done this way earlier.”
I laugh harder and then stop abruptly.
I bolt upright.
“Paul, what the hell do we do now? I mean, us and with work?” I’m panicking.
“Relax. We will figure it out. We are good together, May. We always have been. We will just add this to the long list of why we are together.”
One lingering thought sticks out in my mind as we lay together in bed, wrapped up in each other.
He’s not Kevin.
CHAPTER TEN
Why is it so bumpy? I open my sleeping eyelids and remember I’m in the car. I’m stiff and achy all over. I turn away from the window and look at Paul in the driver’s seat. His almost-black hair is hidden underneath a backwards Steelers hat, and his eyes behind a pair of old-school aviators, which are trained on the road ahead.
I look down to my lap and see his hand curled up in mine. I wonder if that’s why I slept so well. Feeling me move around, he steals a look in my direction.
“Well, hello. Thought you were going to sleep the whole way there,” he says, looking back at the road.
“How far out are we?” I ask, stretching my entire body. I’m almost too stiff. Car sleeping is not for me.
“We are about halfway there. When we get to the hotel, we will check in and then go grab something to eat . . . sound good?”
“Sounds great.” I turn back to the window. The landscape is completely different out here, obviously. We live at the beach, and now we are driving through the mountains. I still can’t believe I let him talk me into this. No, scratch that. I can’t believe he forced my hand to take this job is more like it.
FOUR MONTHS EARLIER
“Are you insane? We are local! You know I don’t like being far from home,” I loudly say while throwing the papers that are in my hand across the table back to Paul. “No way . . . not gonna happen.”
“May, he is a friend of mine and needs this favor. The girls are getting a little roughed up, and the guys have no clue what the job entails. Two . . . three weeks tops, and we are back here at the beach. Plus, there are only so many places we can work before we have redone them all. We really do need this, May.”
My face falls and shoulders sag when I realize it.
“You’ve already told him that we are in . . . haven’t you?”
Keep calm, May. Keep it calm.
“You know I wouldn’t take something on that I thought was bullshit. Didn’t you hear about the part where he said he would pay us triple our asking fee?” He gets up from the table, eyeing me cautiously and takes slow steps around the table towards me. I get up, so I don’t feel so small.
“Dammit, Paul!” I yell, looking away from him and down at the blueprints.
McCall’s Bar. Bum Fuckville.
As I blow out a long and angry exhale that actually moves some of the papers, Paul stops his hand from touching me in midair. “Two to three weeks . . . tops?” I ask.
Now he kn
ows he has me. I melt at the beautiful man giving me that beautiful smile with his arms wrapped around me. I just shake my head, not at him, but at the face I still see in my mind and the ever-looping thought.
He’s still not Kevin.
We haven’t talked about what we are and all that since his declaration of love for me. Paul hasn’t ever fallen for a girl before. He’s more of a fuck-the-one-you're-with kind of guy. So whatever he’s feeling must be love, right? I don’t know any more. I have stopped trying to figure everything out and just let happen what will happen.
I drove us to the mountains, and then he took over from there. I have a phobia of driving in the mountains.
What? It’s a real thing.
Actually, he will be driving the rest of the way because I have no idea where exactly this place is. I never explored the western part of the state. To be honest, there was no need. I am a beach girl, always have been, always will be. Period.
Ramsey McCall called Paul to hire our services for his bar. They used to fight together years ago, but I have no clue who he is because my fights were always on the same nights as Paul’s.
McCall’s Bar is an average sized place from what I can tell from the blue prints. Ramsey insisted we keep his original staff because they were good. They just needed to be trained a little harder and better. Some tweaking, if you will. We have tweaked five other bars in town since Ramsey contacted Paul and signed us on. With us not having to hire all new staff, I don’t see why we need to stay the full two weeks, let alone three, but it’s Paul’s friend.
The sunset behind the mountains is very beautiful. The reds and oranges dance together and grace every part of the earth they can touch. It’s cooled down some, so we roll down the windows. The scent of pine trees invades my senses. Match that smell with Paul’s laundry scent whipping around me, and it’s just the perfect combination.
“Does the hotel have room service?” I ask, not looking at him on purpose. I hear him smiling.
“Feel like staying in tonight, huh?” His smile is getting bigger now.
“Just been a long day with the trip and everything.”
Lifting my hand up to his lips, he kisses it and holds it there.
“Yeah, babe; we can stay in,” he says against my skin.
That shake is back.
Curling up in bed with Paul has taken on a whole other meaning. We don’t just spoon or cuddle, our entire bodies touch. From our ankles to our knees, thighs, hips, stomachs, chests, and lips, we couldn’t get any more molded to one another even if we tried.
Feeling his heartbeat and breathing moves my body in a way I can’t begin to describe.
The past few months have been incredible. Paul and I haven’t changed really, we’ve just added sex and sleeping in each other’s bed.
He still kicks my ass in the gym when we work on my techniques. He’s a little more playful with it and when we spar. He doesn’t connect as hard as he once did. I can be too sore from our sessions for sex, and he took note the first couple times after we sparred at full force. He, in fact, does not like being denied. Hell, one time he came into the women’s locker room while I was still in the shower, got in with me, picked me up, and fucked me right there against the shower’s tile wall. He later explained he did it that way so the hot water would keep me from locking up and getting any sorer than I already was. Clever. I laugh to myself at that.
As far as us having the relationship we have and being at work, well that has changed completely. He no longer stands at the edge of the dance floor ogling females everywhere. Instead, he is never more than ten feet away from me at any given time. He talks to me over his radio a little more the usual, but when something does go down, I’m the last one he calls. I don’t like that at all. He trained me to take care of myself and him if he was in trouble, for that matter. I don’t need anyone thinking that they have to protect me. I sit up from him and lean on my left elbow but leave our hips and legs entwined.
“We need to talk about something,” I say, blowing a curly strand out of my face.
“I know what you are going to say, May,” he begins as he gets up on his elbow, mirroring me. “Even if you don’t see it, I see you as mine. I don’t do the whole I-mark-what’s-mine thing. I’m not a dog hitching up his leg on the corner of a couch. You are my best friend, and now you are even more to me than that, so yes, I’m going to protect you from as much harm as possible,” he says, watching my every expression and waiting for a reaction, or in my case, a rebuttal.
Taking a deep breath in to make my case, I can’t think of anything to say to that. I’ve never had anyone want to take care of me or want me to be safe. What do you say to that? Placing my hand on his chest, he covers it with his hand and continues to look at me.
“I mean it when I say it, May. I love you.”
Well shit.
You can’t argue with that at all.
I lean forward and kiss his hand, his tattoo, then his neck, and our lips are sliding together as he engulfs me into his arms and rolls me over onto my back. Round three . . . Yes, please!
Sitting in the car on the way to McCall’s, there is no hand holding, and we are in normal clothes. We always go to a client’s bar or club as regular customers, so we can see how things really work without the staff knowing who we are, and why we are there. Some of the reactions are priceless. One place, there was this bouncer, cocky as all hell, who was throwing me every line he could pull out of his young playbook to get me to go home with him. When he saw me walk into the all-employee meeting and stand up front, he didn’t say anything. He just got up and left.
McCall’s is already in full swing when we pull into the parking lot. We get out separately and go wait in line. It all starts with the doorman. As I am standing in line, Paul is a handful of people ahead of me, this woman behind me is bitching nonstop about how her friend has been really sad and just out of it for a long time.
I think she said, “Kevin,” but I wasn’t paying attention.
I shake it off as I get to the door, finally, twenty minutes later. Mental note already, and I’m not even in the door yet. Jesus.
It’s a pretty nice place inside. The remodel went off without a hitch, I’ve been told, and they have been having a slow re-open all week. A decent amount of people are in already, some at the cocktail tables, some at the pool tables, some at the bar, and some out on the dance floor. Walking up to the bar, I see Paul sitting to the right, so I make my way left. As I sit down, I see an older blonde woman with her arm around Paul’s neck, and her hand slid into the opening of his shirt. Really? Raising my eyebrows and folding my hands together on the bar, I just stare at him until he can feel me looking at him. It’s not a jealousy thing, it’s more a mutual respect thing. I don’t like it when that respect is violated, regardless if it’s involuntarily.
Rolling his eyes and giving an embarrassed smile, he shrugs his shoulders, takes the woman’s hand out of his shirt, and off his body. He says something to her in her ear and that changes her demeanor a little. She straightens up, tosses her bleach blonde hair over her shoulder, and struts, with gusto I might add, away from Paul. We make eye contact again, and we both start laughing. Still looking at Paul, I see him tense all over. A guy is getting ready to talk to me. I’ve seen this from Paul before. Next thing I feel is a body leaning up against the bar and too far in my bubble. I sit back to put some distance in between us. He reaches out and takes a strand of my hair and curls it around his finger. Ugh. What a creepy thing for a guy to do.
“You know you’re going to go home with me, so why don’t we just leave now, darlin’?” he slurs at me. Yuck.
He was a good-looking guy until he spoke, and damn do I hate that “darlin”’ shit. Now it’s time to test one of the bouncers.
I “accidentally” drop my glass on the ceramic stone floor. One one thousand, two one thousand, I start to mentally count. When I am at forty-nine one thousand, a bouncer finally shows up to clean up the shattered glass off the floo
r. That’s not good. He didn’t even take notice of the awkward situation at hand. However, I did see him nod to the guy trying to take me home.
A regular maybe? Mental note.
“I’m sorry, but you and I play for the same team,” I say with a huge smile on my face. Because I’m not some small, helpless girl and can handle my own, men automatically think I am a lesbian. I think maybe it’s because they can’t handle a strong woman, so instead of trying and failing, they come up with some bullshit to save their egos. Men. He looks at me for a few seconds and mumbles something along the line of “What a waste” under his breath.
I start laughing again as he walks away, and I turn to look at Paul. He isn’t there. I hear something happening on the dance floor. It seems Paul went ahead with his test and has caused an incident with some random guy.
Four bouncers rush the floor and go straight for Paul. Interesting. No getting the two sides of the story there. Paul is picked up and carried out. It takes all four bouncers. I pay our tab and go outside.
Paul is leaning up against the passenger door of the car wiping his lip. Someone connected? Even more interesting; he never lets anyone connect with anyone, let alone him, during tests.
“You alright?” I half ask, half laugh.
“They fucking tazed me, May!” he says with a laugh.
“Are you fucking serious?” I’m completely lost now.
“Let’s go back to the room; you drive please,” he says, tossing me the keys and turning to get in the car.
Once we are back in the room, Paul takes his shirt off. They did more than taze him. Below the taser marks, I see faint bruises already starting to form on his side and back.
Is that a boot print?
“WHAT THE FUCK, PAUL? Why did you let them take it that far?” I ask, grabbing the ice trays out of the freezer.
Need You, Need Me (The Need Series Book 1) Page 7
