Nick
It’s ridiculous that I’m nervous for my date with my wife tonight, but I am. I’m afraid she won’t like what I’ve planned. It’s not extravagant like Jeffers probably would have planned. Mazzy comes from a rich family and she’s seen most of the world. Done things most people only see in magazines or online. When I planned our night, I decided to do what she would enjoy rather than something that would impress her.
When she asked me what to wear, I told her to dress comfortably, not to dress up, and that I’d meet her in the upstairs hall at seven o’clock. She’s been up there since five, showering and getting ready, while I’ve been making sure everything on my end is taken care of. It’s her expectations that worry me the most if I’m honest.
When I head up the stairs at seven, she’s already waiting. Her hair is down and curled into waves, her makeup perfect as usual. Not nearly as heavy as when we went to the diabetes fundraiser, but more than she wears during the day. Her dark, fitted jeans show off her curves, and her emerald silk tank top sets off the red in her hair.
“This is dressing comfortably?” I say.
“Well, you wouldn’t tell me what we were doing, and I’d always rather be overdressed than underdressed. Don’t I look okay?” She holds her hands out to her sides.
“You look amazing, as always.” I place a chaste kiss on her lips. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Holding her hand, I lead her into the family room where I’ve set everything up.
I’ve shifted the furniture around, and in the center of the room stands two easels with blank canvases and a small table in between with paints and paintbrushes.
Lilac candles burn throughout the room—because lilac is her favorite scent. Dinner from her favorite restaurant is being kept warm in the oven. And her favorite bottle of wine chills in the fridge.
“What’s all this?” she says, looking around the room.
“We’re going to paint. I hear a lot of the nurses at work talk about the wine and paint nights and I thought it would be fun to do together. Besides, you used to like to paint when we were younger. Maybe this can be one of the things you explore.”
She steps up to one of the canvases with what appears like wonder and picks up a paintbrush. “I forgot how much I used to love to paint. It’s been so long.” She fingers the bristles on one of the paintbrushes then turns back to me with a wide smile that lights up her eyes. “This is going to be so much fun. Thank you.”
“Let me go get us each a glass of wine and I’ll explain more.”
She nods and continues checking everything out. I walk to the kitchen, pour us each a glass of wine, and return to the living room. She’s pulled her hair back into a ponytail that showcases her neck and entices me to run my tongue over her skin.
“Here you go.” I pass her a glass.
“Thank you.”
“I know people usually go somewhere and do this in a big group, but I wanted it to just be me and you. So I found a woman who normally teaches these things and paid her to record it for us so we can do it by ourselves. I have the video on my phone, so I’ll AirPlay it to the TV.”
“What are we painting?” She sips her wine and sets it on the table holding all the paints and brushes.
“A lake with a mountain in the background and a sunset sky. Don’t expect much from me though. I’ve never painted in my life.”
She shrugs. “You save lives for a living. I suppose you’re forgiven.”
I chuckle. “Okay, let me start the video.”
She rests her hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t we start with getting the paint into the trays and water in our rinse cups?”
I set down the remote. “Right. That’s what I meant to say.”
She laughs as I grab two cups and disappear into the kitchen. Damn, I love the sound of her happiness.
We end up turning our easels back to back so the other can’t see until we’re finished. Now it’s the moment of truth.
“Ready?” Mazzy says with a giant grin. Hers will be better than mine, I guarantee.
“One. Two. Three.”
We flip our paintings, and she laughs when she sees mine. I don’t blame her. It’s pretty hard to even tell what the mountain is. But hers looks like a real work of art. The way she’s shaded the sunset sky and the depth she put in the peaks and valleys of the mountain is impressive.
“Wow. Yours is killer,” I say.
“I’m not sure I can say the same for yours, sorry.” She’s cringes although she’s still laughing.
“What do you mean? This could go up beside a Picasso and no one would know the difference.”
“Everyone would know the difference.”
I turn my painting back around to face me. “It looks like a second grader painted it. But you’re supposed to love it because I painted it.”
“I do. Let’s hang it on the wall. People will think we bought it from an elementary school art fair.”
I set the painting back on the easel and step toward her. “You’d better take that back, Mrs. Ryan.”
“Or what?” she says in a flirty voice.
I step closer. “Or I’ll make you wish you had.”
“I’d like to see you try.” She walks toward me until we’re chest to chest.
Before she can do whatever she has planned, I dip my finger in the closest paint tray and mark her nose with a dot of pink.
Her eyes widen in shock. “I can’t believe you just did that.” She follows suit and drags an orange line down the bridge of my nose.
“Now you’re really asking for it.”
“I’ve been asking for it for a while, you just won’t give it to me.” Her lids grow heavy the longer our banter flows.
“What would you say if I told you that I was going to give it to you until you’re begging me to stop tonight?”
“Well then, I’d ask what you’re waiting for.”
As if someone started a stopwatch and said go, we come together like the clash of opposing armies, our mouths fusing together, our tongues tangling. I grip her ass, the denim rough against my palms. Her nipples poke through both our shirts because she’s not wearing a bra.
I place my hands on either side of her face and tilt it for my tongue to get deeper into her mouth. My cock hardens and I grind it along her stomach, spurring a moan from both of us.
“I can’t wait any longer,” I say.
“Finally.”
I chuckle and take her hand to lead her up the stairs. “Let’s go to bed. We can christen this room tomorrow.”
“I always knew you were a smart man, Mr. Ryan.”
“Why thank you, Mrs. Ryan.”
By the time we reach the bedroom, the frenetic energy has worn off. Now I want to take my time with this woman so that I can really feel every sensation between us and experience it to its fullest.
I close our kiss and step back from her, taking in her beauty. She stares back at me, eyes full of emotion and lust. Looking so damn cute with the pink paint smeared down her nose. Stepping forward, I take the hem of her silk tank top and pull it up her body. She holds her arms up so I can slide it off easily, and I toss it on the floor. She sucks in a breath when I unbutton her jeans and slide down the zipper.
Once her jeans are off, I straighten up and take her beauty in once more. “You have great taste in lingerie.”
She smiles. She’s wearing silk panties that match the green of her tank top. I can see the center of her panties are wet and I lick my lips, eager as a starved animal to taste her.
“Get on the bed,” I say in a rough voice.
She obeys, and I’m granted with a great view of her ass when she crawls up the mattress. She lies back once she’s reached the headboard, and she teases me by spreading her legs.
I crawl up the bed toward her until she’s caged underneath me. “I’ve thought about this a lot, Maz. You have no idea.”
She clutches my shirt and pulls me down to her. “Me too.”
We roll over and she straddles me. Her hands glide up my torso under the hem of my shirt, and I help her remove it. She trails open mouth kisses down my chest, her hair like a curtain of fire blocking any sight of her eyes.
When she kisses her way down, she undoes my belt and pulls down my zipper. She moves to the side so she can yank my pants over my legs, and I help kick them off. My hard dick strains the confines of my cotton briefs, and she drags her hand over the bulge as though she’s been waiting all year for it. With her jaw slack and her eyelids heavy as she’s half naked—she’s never looked so sexy.
Forty-One
Mazzy
His rock-hard length under his briefs makes me feel wanton. I’ll never grow tired of this man, will never get enough.
I pull at the waistband of his black boxer briefs and lick my lips, remembering what he tastes like before I drag them down his legs and toss them aside. As I sit up straighter to continue on my quest, he tackles me, pinning me to the bed.
I yelp and laugh. “Hey now.”
“We’ll never reach the main attraction if you go there tonight.”
I grin, taking his action as a compliment to my skills. Before I can say thank you, his mouth falls to my body, worshiping every square inch. My neck, my collarbone, the valley between my breasts. He plucks my nipples with his teeth, and the sensation causes my torso to vault off the bed. Nick grinds the heel of his hand in circles over my mound while his mouth works over my breasts.
In less than a minute, I’m at that spot before I explode. The spot where if I don’t get some relief—an orgasm, him inside me, something, anything—I’m going to go lose my mind. And as though we’ve been partners for years and he knows I’m on the precipice of coming, he strips his hand and mouth off me.
My head whips up and I glare at him, but I’m met with a dark chuckle as he slides my underwear down my legs and throws them across the room.
All right, now we’re getting somewhere.
Without a word, he grips my knees in his large hands and spreads my legs wide before leaning down and trailing his tongue from my entrance up to my clit. My eyes roll back in my head and I sigh. I should yank him up by his hair and say what he said to me, but my body sinks into the mattress.
“Fuck, you should be savored.” He leans back down and swipes at me again. And again. And again.
I writhe when he focuses all his attention on my clit. I need to come.
And then—he’s gone again.
My eyes shoot open and he’s on his knees between my legs, stroking himself. I sit up on my elbows, watching without shame. His muscles bunching while he gives himself pleasure is so fucking hot. I snake my hand down toward my clit to get relief and his eyes flare. But right before I hit my destination, he grabs my hand.
He takes both my wrists and presses them to the bed, above my head, his weight bearing down on me. His hard length presses against me, so close but still so far from where I need him.
“Please, Nick.” A desperate need fills my voice.
“I’m going to give it to you.” He licks along the seam of my lips, but when I open to him, he pulls away. I growl in frustration and he chuckles.
“I have condoms.” He bends and licks up the column of my neck.
My eyes drift closed.
“But I’d prefer to feel you with nothing between us. I’m clean. I have my papers in the night table if you want to see them.”
I shake my head. “I believe you.”
He nips my earlobe. “And you?”
“I’m clean. I haven’t been with anyone since my divorce. And I’m on the pill.” I hate saying my ex-husband’s name, especially right in this moment, but it’s worth it if I can feel Nick with nothing between us.
“Well then, what are we waiting for?”
He still holds my arms pinned above my head as he pushes into me, a little at first then pulls back and pushes in again and again until he’s fully seated inside me. I gasp at the sensation of feeling so full of him.
“You all right?” he asks, letting my wrists go and placing his forearms on either side of my head so he isn’t putting all his weight on me.
He pulls out and my every nerve sighs in pleasure. Nick moves slow and steady but builds to a faster pace. My hands grip his ass, and the feeling of his muscles contracting every time he enters me is such a turn-on.
Before long, we’re a hot, sweaty mess and I’m building toward a crescendo once again. I’ll kill him if he backs away from me again.
But he doesn’t. He sits back on his heels and takes my legs from behind his back, moving them so they rest on his chest, my feet on either side of his face. Then he bends forward and thrusts into me, pushing my knees toward my chest.
And oh holy hell, it’s fucking divine. Every time he thrusts into me, he hits my G-spot and I cry out. The pleasure is intense. Almost too intense. Almost out of control. With a few more thrusts, I detonate like a bomb, my thoughts scattering around the room. I’m no longer in control of myself as I scream and my body writhes underneath him.
He slows his pace, allowing me to ride out my orgasm. When I come to and open my eyes, he’s sitting back on his ankles, gripping my waist and watching himself pull in and out of me. My legs fall to the side.
“Fuck, that was hot to watch, Maz.” His gaze meets mine momentarily.
“Imagine how it felt.” I give him a lazy grin.
“I’m about to find out.” He pumps into me in earnest again, and the drag of his cock in and out of me lights up my nerve endings again.
I grip my breasts and he growls low in his throat, slamming into me harder. We’re both panting when he circles his thumb around my swollen bud. Another orgasm consumes me without any warning, and I cry out at the same time he does.
He holds himself inside me by gripping my waist, jutting his hips while he comes inside me. The expression on his face is one of rapture, and I do my best to keep my eyes open to take him all in.
Once we’ve caught our breath, he slowly pulls out, groaning as he watches our joined bodies..
“That was…” I can’t even form any more words.
“Yeah.” He flops down on the bed beside me and pulls me into him. “It was.”
We lie in bed, naked under the covers, a glass of wine on each nightstand, and eat out of takeout containers while watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.
“This is so much better than a night at some fancy restaurant. Thank you.” I kiss him, but Nick deepens the kiss for a moment.
“I wanted the two of us to connect, not show you that I know the best restaurant in town or how much money I can spend on a date.”
I lift my wine glass from the bedside table. “Well, you know me well then. Because you know money and fancy places mean nothing to me.”
He smiles.
“I forgot how much I enjoyed painting. I think I’ll do more of it.”
“You should. You’re very good.”
“Or maybe it just looks that way due to comparison.”
He leans in and tickles me and I laugh, scooting away with the takeout container on my lap. Our laughter dies down and our attention returns to the TV until we finish our meals.
After a while, I decide to ask him the question that’s been on my mind. “Can I ask you something?”
His forehead wrinkles. “You should know you can ask me anything. What’s up?”
“When your parents came over, I got the impression they’d never been here before.”
“They haven’t.”
I shift to lean against the padded headboard to see him better. “I take it your relationship devolved in the time we weren’t speaking then?”
His parents have always been a touchy subject because it’s inadvertently bringing up his brother, but I want to know where his family sta
nds in his life. And if we can’t talk about these things, we’ll never be able to go any further than we already have.
“After I caught you with my brother”—he squeezes my hand—“well, you can imagine the words he and I had. I showed up at the law firm the following week. My father intervened before it became a full-blown brawl in the middle of their office. Since then, I don’t see them unless I absolutely have to.” He shrugs as though he doesn’t care, but I know it has to hurt.
“What about your mom?”
“I see her more often, but not more than once a month at most. It’s a strained relationship. She knows how I feel about my dad and brother, and I think she hopes I’ll change my mind at some point, but that’s never going to happen.”
“I’m sorry.” I wrap my arms around his waist, snuggling into his side. The sheet drops and I press my naked chest against his side.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is though. If I hadn’t let Keith—”
“No.” He shakes his head. “If it wasn’t that, it would’ve been something else. We were already adversaries. That was just the final knife in my back. In some ways, it was a good thing. It allowed me to stop trying to have a relationship with the two of them and feel bad when it didn’t go well. I was able to move on with my life and live it how I wanted. And truly, I’m happy.”
I squeeze my arms around his middle and kiss his chest.
After a few moments of silence, he asks, “Can I ask you something now?”
“Seems fair.”
He chuckles and rubs his hand up and down my side. I close my eyes from the sensation of his fingers dragging across my skin.
“Are you over your first marriage?”
I pop up and make a show of looking between our naked bodies. “Isn’t it obvious?”
He pulls me back into him. “People can have sex without being emotionally attached. Trust me, I did it for all the years we’ve been apart.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I do not want to think about Nick having sex with other women. But we’re adults.
“We never should have been married in the first place. We weren’t a good match, but we were dating, and I was happy enough and he asked… I don’t know. I just kind of went with it. He proposed in front of my parents and they were so thrilled. Here I was marrying this man from another prominent family and they thought I was ecstatic about it. By the time I came up for air and was having doubts, dates had been set and news traveled. I convinced myself that I was just a nervous bride and that after the wedding was over and we settled into married life, I’d feel better about it.”
Don't Mind If I Do : A Fake Marriage Romantic Comedy Page 18
