His to Love (Fireside #1)

by Stacey Lynn

  It only was a couple of minutes until we pulled into a short driveway. I jolted a bit in surprise when I saw the small ranch house and one-car garage in front of me. I’d just assumed he’d live in an apartment building, but apparently, that was not the case.

  “This is yours?”

  “Yup.” He spun my keys once before handing them to me. “Got a good deal, and I don’t like feeling caged in large buildings. Let’s go in and I’ll give you the tour.”

  I glanced at the front of his house before returning to Tyson as he climbed out of my small compact car, looking too large for the space. It almost made me chuckle as he unfolded his long legs. I opened my door and met him at the front. When I reached him, he took my hand and led me toward the front door, up a small sidewalk lined with hostas layered with what looked like fresh mulch.

  While he unlocked the front door, my gaze roamed the small street. All of the houses were small but well maintained. The trees were so large they provided a canopy over the narrow street. I imagined the way that street would look come fall when the maples turned shades of orange and yellow and red and fallen leaves blanketed the narrow street.

  “I like it already,” I said, my voice a bit wistful. Tyson opened the door and with his hand on the small of my back guided me inside. We entered a small living area. A gray sectional took up almost the entire space and, besides the television mounted above the fireplace, there was no other furniture in the room. A small stack of boxes stood in one corner. It would be obvious to anyone who entered that not only was Tyson a bachelor, but he had also recently moved in.

  He flipped light switches on as he stepped around me and headed toward what I assumed was the kitchen. “It’s not much,” he said, just as he disappeared behind a corner. “But like I said, I got a great deal on rent and I sort of like the little place.”

  I dropped my purse on the couch and followed his voice. The kitchen made me catch my breath. Its gleaming white cupboards and black marble countertop had obviously been completely updated recently.

  “It’s perfect,” I murmured, gliding my hand across the cool surface.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  I glanced up and saw Tyson’s gaze locked on me. I shook my head and watched as his gaze dropped to my lips where I had, again, begun sucking my bottom lip in between my teeth. “I think I’d like to finish the tour.”

  His kitchen was beautiful, but small. There was little distance between us when he reached out and gently plucked my lip from between my teeth with his thumb. Then he ran his thumb over my abused skin. “Nothing has to happen tonight. Nothing you don’t want.”

  “I want you,” I whispered. I was barely able to finish the sentence before his thumb on my lip moved to my chin.

  With sure, but slow movements, he tilted my head back, and his lips met mine. His kiss was firm. His lips molded to mine and sucked all the remaining breath from my lungs. I lunged forward, unable to stand on my own, and wrapped my fingers around his biceps. I held on to him while his mouth continued to do wicked things to mine. My lips parted on a quiet gasp and his tongue slid inside, rolling with mine and tasting every inch of my mouth. He tasted fresh, and I needed more. I leaned farther forward, pressing my chest against his until one of his arms slid to my back, holding me against him.

  “Blue,” he rumbled, pulling back until our lips gently brushed against each other. “My room.”

  My pulse raced, my blood burned from the inside out. I took a step back and let him take my hand in his. I followed him through the living room and down the hall, passing two more doors before we entered his room. Light from the streetlamps outside cast a romantic glow over his large bed. The covers were pulled up, the bed made as if it was done hastily and without care when he rolled out of it this morning. Heat spread to the tops of my thighs and I turned slowly to face him.

  “Hey,” I said, my voice small and weak. Nerves assaulted me as I stared up at him. He wasn’t the only man I’d had sex with. He was just the only man I’d ever made love to.

  But that was ten years ago.

  “You look terrified,” he said and slid his hand up and around to the back of my neck.

  “I’m not. Just nervous.”

  “About this?” He nodded toward the bed. A grin full of mirth stretched his lips. “We can always go somewhere else. The wall…the shower…”

  A laugh burst from me and I shook my head again. “No.” I laughed again and relaxed when he joined me. “The bed is fine.”

  One thick, black eyebrow arched. “Just fine?”

  My grin matched his and I stepped toward him. “I’m sure it’ll be better than fine.” Rolling to my toes, I pressed myself closer, brushing my lips along his jaw. “I want this. Honest.”

  His hand on my neck tightened, and he leaned forward, instantly claiming my mouth. His other hand went to my hip and with one quick lift, I was in the air and then being lowered onto the bed. Tyson adjusted us while I pushed with my feet, shifting farther onto the bed until Tyson was directly over me.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, sliding his hand from my back to my side and up my ribs. “More beautiful than I remember.”

  Every time his fingers grazed my skin, heat flared, sending trails of burning need igniting in his wake. I pressed into him, desperate to be closer. To feel him. My hands slid down his back and I began pushing his shirt up and off his chest. He separated from me just long enough to grab the back of his shirt with one hand. He tugged it up and forward, flung it somewhere in the distance, and then did the same with my shirt. His head dropped and his lips pressed against my clavicle before sliding down and toward the center of my breasts. His hand covered one of my breasts, fondling it and pinching my nipple though the satin fabric.

  “Tyson,” I mewled, arching into him and his touch. “Please,” I begged. “I need more.”

  “Patience,” he murmured. His lips trailed farther down until his tongue came out and swirled around my belly button. My stomach muscles tightened and my fingers tangled in his short black hair, holding him to me. My need grew with every gentle and teasing brush of his lips against me until his tongue slid across the waistband of my denim jeans. Goosebumps flared on my exposed skin, making me shiver.

  Tyson chuckled darkly and his hands began to work on my zipper. “These need to come off.”

  I lifted my hips to help him. My eyes stayed trained on him as he slid them off my legs and my feet, discarding them in a pile on the floor. Then he knelt at the edge of the bed, tugging me toward him until my sex was directly in front of his mouth.

  My breath stalled.

  “I’ve been waiting for this,” he muttered. “So damn long.”

  His tongue glided along the seam of my panties before he began pressing soft and ticklish kisses all over my inner thighs. My fingers dug into his comforter and my hips rocked toward him.

  He took his time with me, driving me crazy with every touch of his tongue on my sensitive flesh, sucking through my panties, teasing me along the outline of my underwear.

  I panted and writhed.

  My flesh burned.

  “Ready?” he asked as his fingertips curled around the edge of my panties.

  I gazed at him through heavy lids, unable to open my eyes all the way.

  “Yes,” I whispered hoarsely. “Please.”

  He leaned forward, ran his lips across the edge of my panties one more time before his hands twisted the white lace. With a firm tug, the lace tore, digging into my hips and causing a riot of sensations with the slight hint of pain.

  My jaw dropped. “You just tore my underwear.”

  His eyes narrowed on mine, a teasing glint barely noticeable in the dark room. “You’ll forgive me.”

  And I did.

  Immediately.

  Because he didn’t give me time to argue before he dipped his head and slid his tongue through my wet and quivering folds. I groaned loudly, rolling my hips closer to him as he tasted me with utter abandon. He grip
ped me tighter and held me to his mouth as he took his pleasure, while at the same time, giving me mine.

  “Tyson,” I moaned, and my thighs began to tremble. “I’m going to come.”

  He grunted his approval. My fingernails dug into the covers beneath me and I threw my head back into the mattress, screaming his name when my orgasm barreled through me.

  “Yes!” I cried out, as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my entire body. Everything tingled, from my teeth to the tips of my toes while he continued fucking me with his tongue, wringing every ounce of climax out of my pulsing flesh. Slowly dropping my legs, he rose to his full height above me. With my heart racing, I lifted my hands in the air and beckoned him to me. “Come here,” I whispered with a gravelly voice. My body still trembled, the waves of my orgasm still lingering even though he wasn’t touching me.

  Something dark flashed in his eyes and he blinked twice, clearing whatever I saw. Then his hands went to his belt and he quickly undid his zipper.

  “I told myself I was going to wait,” he whispered into the darkness. “I don’t think I can.” Indecision flared in his gaze again before it vanished. With deft movements, he dropped his jeans, grabbing a condom wrapper out of his jeans pocket as they fell. His boxers dropped with his jeans and my mouth fell open. His body was perfect. Chiseled and defined in the best of places. My still throbbing center began to quiver as he wrapped his hand around the base of his thick shaft. He tugged and pulled on it, standing like a sentry at the edge of his bed. His gaze roamed all over my body before he dragged his eyes to meet mine.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He planted a knee onto the bed and brought his body over mine. I pushed back, giving him room and we adjusted ourselves so his knees spread wide on the bed and he draped my thighs open over his.

  I arched my back, quickly worked to remove my bra, and tossed the offending fabric away. As I flung it to the side of the bed, Tyson’s gaze followed it, a hint of a smirk on his twisted lips.

  “I have wanted to be with you again since the moment I first saw you.” The words fell from his lips as if he didn’t want to admit them. His brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “You’ve always been so special to me, Blue,” he whispered again and leaned over me. Our tongues tangled together with passion and desire. My core began warming all over again as he sheathed himself.

  Then he leaned back to his knees, grabbed my hip with one hand, and lined up his erection to my opening. I gasped as the tip of him entered me, then he grabbed onto both of my hips and pulled me forward, filling me in one, quick thrust. My head fell back and I groaned at the sensation. So thick. So hot. I was making love to Tyson Blackwell after a decade of missing him. He gave me time to adjust to his size before he began moving.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered, running my hands up and down his back.

  “You feel incredible.” He leaned forward and pressed a harsh kiss to my lips. My mouth opened and I gasped into his mouth as his hips begin to rock, pulling out and pushing in, hitting the end of me with every fevered thrust.

  “Tyson,” I gasped and dug my fingers into his skin. It wasn’t long before I could feel another climax begin to burn inside of me. He felt so good, and his quick and powerful thrusts forced me to hang on to him. My legs wrapped around his hips and my hands dug into his back.

  “Blue,” he groaned, pulling his mouth from my skin to murmur my name. Our breaths mingled together and our gazes locked as we continued to move. This connection we had terrified me. I couldn’t pull my eyes off him and I didn’t want to. We were connected in every way. The sounds of our flesh and our fevered gasps filled the room. The air thickened and I clung to him as my orgasm began to crest. Shivers danced down my overly heated skin and I cried out his name, holding on to him for dear life.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. His hips moved faster and harder, pressing into me as if he wanted to bury himself as deep as possible.

  “Tyson!”

  “Shit. Blue…” He stretched my name out on a groan and thrust himself inside me one more time. I felt his erection pulse deep inside my walls. His own orgasm pulled him over the cliff and he collapsed on top of me. Our foreheads pressed together, I wrapped my arms around his back, sliding up and down his sweat-lined skin while we waited for our breathing to regulate.

  I needed to catch my breath.

  I needed to do that again.

  Sex with Tyson at eighteen was wonderful.

  Sex with Tyson at twenty-eight was indescribable.

  “You okay?” he asked, pulling back from me.

  I smiled lightly. “That was incredible.”

  His lips pressed against mine. “That was perfect.” His hand slid through my hair and he took his time pushing off me. With another quick kiss, he pulled out of me and rolled off the bed. “I’ll be right back. I just need to get cleaned up.” I muttered something indecipherable and adjusted myself so I was under the covers when he returned. He didn’t say a word as he walked back into the room and climbed into the bed on the other side.

  “Do you still want me to stay?” I asked, rolling over to face him.

  In all my years of dating, the after-sex part had always left me slightly more nervous than the actual sex part. Stay? Leave? Be clingy or aloof? Dating was impossible to figure out. I didn’t want to screw it up with Tyson. With a soft chuckle, he wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me to him until my head rested against his chest.

  “You’re not going anywhere, anytime soon.” His hand tightened on my waist, proving his point.

  “Okay,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his chest. I loved his body. I loved that while his chest was defined and firm, he wasn’t overly bulky. I loved the smattering of prickly hair that fell over each pec and then in a thin trail down the center of his abs, thickening before it disappeared beneath the waistband of his boxers.

  I couldn’t help but run my fingers through it.

  “Tyson?” I asked.

  “Hmm.”

  I pressed my lips against his chest again. “I had a really great time tonight.”

  His low laughter reverberated against my cheek while he laughed. “Me too, Blue. Me too.”

  I closed my eyes and fell asleep to the feel of his chest, his skin, and the memory of what it felt like to make love to Tyson. And I knew that no matter what my parents wanted for me…

  Now was the time for me to follow my own heart.

  Regardless of what it cost me.

  Chapter 11

  I opened my eyes and was immediately assaulted by bright sunlight filtering through the open windows.

  “Ugh,” I groaned and rolled over, wiping the haze of sleep from my eyes and my brain. Next to me, Tyson’s side of the bed was empty and I frowned. The door to the bathroom was open, proving he wasn’t there, so I slid out of bed and used the facilities before swiping my teeth with toothpaste I found lying on his counter. I didn’t want to rifle through his bathroom drawers, so I did what I could to make myself look presentable, using a tissue and cold water to wipe mascara away from beneath my eyes.

  Back in his bedroom, I grabbed his T-shirt from last night that was lying on his floor. Half-dressed, I laughed when I saw my shredded underwear at the end of the bed. I couldn’t believe he tore my underwear off.

  I couldn’t believe I liked it.

  With a smile stretching my lips, I opened the door to his bedroom, intent on finding him.

  When I caught the smell of coffee and the sound of bacon grilling, I immediately headed in that direction. I stopped as I entered the small kitchen. He had his back to me. A mug of coffee in one hand, kitchen tongs in another. He was dressed only in the boxers from the previous night as he flipped the bacon and sipped from his mug.

  “Good morning,” I said and slowly moved toward the coffee pot. Tyson’s head jerked, and he turned to look at me in surprise. “I missed you this morning.”

  He gestu
red toward the skillet. “I was making you breakfast in bed.”

  “Well,” I muttered teasingly, “that takes the sting out of waking up alone.”

  His deep, rich laugh filled the room. I loved that sound. He had never been a guy who was quick to laugh. More slow to speak, quick to listen. His burst of laughter made me smile wider as I filled my cup with coffee and hopped onto the counter to watch him cook. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy cooked me breakfast.

  That tingle of arousal began to blossom at the apex of my thighs as I watched him work swiftly and confidently.

  “You’re so hot,” I blurted.

  Tyson turned away from the skillet after removing the bacon and plating it.

  “I am?” he asked and sauntered to me.

  A heated blush hit my cheeks, but I tried to act nonchalant. “Yup.”

  With a smirk, he reached out and rested his hands on my knees and then began sliding them up my thighs, pushing his shirt up with it. Well aware that I was naked beneath his shirt, I fought the urge to hide myself as Tyson watched the movements of his hands. He stopped when they were low on my hips, his thumbs brushing along the crease of my thighs.

  “Hmmm…,” he murmured. His already dark-blue eyes darkened he looked down at my legs. “I think you’re hot.”

  I chuckled softly and set my coffee mug down on the counter.

  “Do you know how much I want you?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak. His touches left me speechless. His lust-filled gazes left me breathless.

  “All the time.” He leaned forward until his lips brushed against my ear. “Every second of every day.” He pushed against me, pulling me to him, until his erection pressed against my already wet center. “Should I prove it to you?” he whispered.

  I wanted him to prove it. Again. And again. And again.

  I opened my mouth to tell him when my stomach rumbled loudly.

  “Maybe after I feed you,” Tyson said, stepping back. His hands left my hips, and I laughed when our eyes met.

  “Killed the moment, did I?”

  “Not at all.” He reached into a cupboard next to me and pulled out two plates. Then he winked. “I need you to have energy for later.”