by K. L. Jessop
Megan senses my presence, and the slight glance over her shoulder is the only invitation I need to step over the threshold. Heat rushes to my pelvis the closer I get. Her own body heat ricochets off mine.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice is barely a whisper, the yearning noticeable.
I inhale her soft hair as I brush it away from her face. “You smell so good,” I whisper. A little shivers tremors through her when I place my lips on the sensitive spot behind her ear, slipping the strap of her bra from her shoulder. Her head falls to the side to give me more excess to the panel of her neck.
“I’ve been thinking about you—about what I want to do to you.” I take her jaw and turn her head. Her hand moves to the back of my neck, bringing me closer so our lips meet. I cup her breasts, a soft whimper escapes from her throat.
“You make me feel so good, Andrew.”
My stomach muscles compress at the sound of her honesty; it feels good knowing I do this to her. It feels good to be wanted.
I trace my fingers over the lace of her underwear. I have to find the strength to not strip her bare and fuck the life out of her when I feel her dampness. “You’re so wet, Megan.”
“I’m always wet for you.” The need is her voice is breathless. “I’ve told you: you drive me crazy.”
I whisper against her ear, my dick painful against my zip. “You’ve been thinking of me?”
“Yes,”
“About me touching you? Filling you?”
“Please.” Her hips grind against my dick. I’m desperate to feel the warmth of her skin on mine but I’m not wanting to undress just yet: I want to see how much she wants me and how far she’s willing to go.
“Stand by the bed.”
She does as I order and I take my time in looking her over. I’m not ready to touch her; not in the way she’s wanting. I need to control the emotions that fire through me. I indicate to her underwear. “Take it off, all of it, and lay on your back.”
She locks her eyes with mine as she removes her bra before hooking her thumbs into her panties. Lying on the bed, she stretches across the sheets.
Fuck, she’s sexy.
“Do you want me, Megan?”
“Yes.”
She’s so breathless.
“Tell me.”
“I want you. I want you to make me cum. Make me scream. I want to feel you everywhere.” She brings her knees up and spreads her legs. Blood rushes to my cock when she rests up on her elbows, her beautiful pink pussy begging for some attention as it’s soaked in her arousal.
“Jesus, you’re so sexy.”
“Please, Andrew,” she whimpers. “I need you to touch me.”
“I will, but first I like the view from here just as much.” I keep my voice measured, and my eyes locked on hers, wanting her to succumb to my desires but knowing she has my trust. “Touch yourself for me Megan; show me how crazy I make you feel.”
I have to control my breathing when she submits. Laid bare and wide open, she circles her swollen bud, her head falls back and my cock strains as the whimper of my name leave her lips.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Just like that.”
She lowers to her entrance where she's glistening and lubricates her fingers, trailing them up to her clit. Her moans become deeper. I undo my trousers and begin stroking myself. “So, fucking dirty.”
“I like you watching me,” she breathes.
“Does it make you feel good, baby?”
Her breathing quickens, in short sharp pants. She’s close, and I’m ready to take it to the next level so that she’s withering beneath me. She falls to her back and clutches the pillow, arching from the bed she cries out as her climax shudders through her body. She’s beautiful and breathless, and I’m nearly tipped over the edge when the dirty girl that she is brings her fingers to her mouth to suck them clean.
“Fuck, Megan.”
Despite the fact I’m desperate to touch her, I still can’t comprehend the feelings she creates when her hands are on my skin. They run like wildfire to my soul and I find it hard to breath. I need to be inside her to allow her to touch me, that way the desire will take over my thoughts as I race to the finish line.
I remove my shirt and lean over her. Taking her wrists, I pin her hands either side of her head and I run my tongue down the smooth skin of her throat. She moans and arches into me as I pull her nipple between my teeth.
I make my way down her body, kissing her all over as I reach her core. “I’m going to kiss you like crazy.” I trail my tongue along her sex. She jolts and I have to hold her hips in place. She’s tastes too good to ignore. I hardly ever go down on women, but with Megan it’s like an addiction. I can’t get enough. I want to fuck her and eat her all at once.
She tenses, a little cry and her orgasm shudders through. “Need you inside me, Andrew.”
I’m not ready. I want her screaming and begging. I want her delirious and desperate. Not stopping, I continue to lick her sweet flavours, dragging my tongue in a figure eight as she fights against my arms that hold her down. Another quiver of her body and I grin against her hotness. Bringing a woman to orgasm and to the point of no control does things to a man. It gives him a sense of power. It makes me feel alive. She makes me feel alive.
“I can’t,” she pants.
I slip two fingers inside.
“I can’t take much more.”
She’s losing control by the second.
“You can and you will.” She’s hot and slippery on my fingers, and my dick is screaming for a release, but I know it’ll be worth the wait. Seeing her flushed, hungry, and intoxicated on lust is everything.
I rub her sensitive bud with my thumb and she screaming, as another climax devours her. It gives me so much pleasure knowing that I can create such effect on this woman with a single touch.
I stand, remove my trousers and place on the condom as I let her catch her breath.
“I think you’re trying to kill me,” she gasps.
I shift her up the bed to cover her. “You make me breathless.” I say, realising I’ve said it out loud.
“I don’t think there’s anything left,” she giggles. “You’ve drained me.”
I kiss her lips. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
Her hands take hold of my back, and without warning I push into her. I groan at the feel of her around me. The deeper I go the more blind I become with that overwhelming feeling she gives me. “You feel so fucking good, Megan.”
“Why does this always feel like a beautiful punishment?” she says.
Because it is.
I like the way she makes me feel and I loathe that I’ve let it take over, but I’m also grateful because she's silenced the dark storm inside of me.
“Shall I stop?”
“God, no,” she cries.
My body is on fire, my orgasm approaches fast. Megan’s contracts around me, as she pinches my skin with her nails. Two more thrusts and I’m growling her name from the depths of my chest. My head falls into the dip of her neck, our breaths fight against each other.
“If this is what friends with benefits is going to always be like I’m all for it,” she gasps. “You fuck like a beast.”
I chuckle against her skin and kiss her. I lift my head. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. But I don’t think I can walk.” She laughs. Taking my jaw in her hands, her eyes become serious. “You make me feel incredible, Andrew. No man has ever done that.”
I crash my mouth to hers as a wave of something unfamiliar clutches at my chest. Her arms hug my neck and she pulls me down so my weight is on her. Our hearts vibrate against one another and in this moment I’ve never felt more alive.
“What are you thinking?” she whispers as her fingertips smooth my back. I’m yet to move and I’m not sure I want to. Being connected as one brings an element of safety that I never realised I needed so badly.
“I’m thinking we should take a bath.”
“Sounds
perfect,” she smiles.
I pull out of her and head to the bathroom, filling the bath with strawberry bubbles and warm water. I hear Megan giggle like a school girl and look back I can’t help but chuckle at how wobbly she is on her legs.
“You look like Bambi,” I grin, lifting her into my arms.
“Told you I didn’t think I could walk.”
I place her in the bath and twist her hair up in her clip before sliding into the water across from her. I could have rested her against me but I want to see her face. We relax into the warmth of the water watching each other as a blissful silence take over. Right now, in this moment, I don’t think it can get any better.
“What made you change your mind?” Megan asks softly, her cheeks pink as bubbles cover her chest.
“About what?”
“Wanting me.”
Because you’ve somehow managed to tear down my defences and I couldn’t resist temptation any longer. “It wasn’t that I had to change my mind, it’s was more that I had to stop allowing my mind to rule what I was after. Staying away meant you’d have more protection.”
“From you?”
“Yes.”
Keeping Megan at arm’s length is a way to protect her from who I am as a person. I have a fear of getting close because somehow, I always end up losing them. My mother always told me that when I get close to women I turn their hearts black with my existence. I can see why she would think that because she is never happy when I’m around. When Annie was in my life, and more or less raised me as her own, I use to make her smile all the time. She taught me all I needed to know about the world, about love and how to treat a woman. When she died, I was vastly reminded by my mother of the negative affect I have on women. It was a few years later that I truly believed her words when yet again my life turned dark.
“But why?” Megan asks. “That’s what I don’t understand. Why do you need to protect me from you?”
I take her hand in mind and entwine our fingers. She has a gift when it comes to getting me to talk about the hardest of things I’ve kept concealed for years. The words just slip out of my mouth with ease. “I have a habit of hurting people, Megan, whether I intend to or not. I didn’t… I don’t want you in the crossfire of my troubles.”
She’s silent for a moment, focusing on our hands as my words sink it. I want to know what’s she’s thinking. Will she run like she should have done to begin with?
When she looks at me my heart beats faster with her words. “You’re what I need, Andrew, and I believe that you need this too.”
My chest caves as a wave of hot and cold hits the back of my neck. I fear her words are right. “I’m not very good with stuff like this, Megan. I’ve been out of the game too long.”
She smiles softly. “I’m not good at it either, but if we stick together we might just make it past the finish line.” She holds my gaze and whispers. “Don’t run from me, again.”
“I don’t want to.”
I lean forward and pull her to rest her body against mine. I smooth my thumb across her cheek, her eyes full of something I’m yet to work out. I’d like to say it’s affection, but I’m not worthy of that, and I’m not sure I want to be the recipient of such affection because she deserves so much more than I can give to her in return, but now that I have her I’m afraid to let go.
“Is it wrong of me to say that this connection between us scares the hell out of me? Does that make me sound weak?”
“I think that makes you pretty brave,” she whispers.
I don’t feel brave. I feel vulnerable at the thought of being needed, at the thought of me needing another. “You’re making me feel things I never thought I’d ever feel again, Megan. It’s hard to get my head around. I never thought I’d feel them again.”
She places her hand over my heart and murmurs. “No one can control how they feel, Andrew. Whatever is going on inside, it’s happening for a reason.”
And it’s that reason which terrifies me.
Chapter Nineteen
Megan
My stomach feels warm and fuzzy as I lay in bed thinking about how times have changed over these last few weeks. I could get used to feeling like this. The last few days have been amazing, and I’ve never felt so incredible and so safe with a man as I feel when I’m with Andrew. He has the power to take me to places I never knew existed with a single touch—a touch that embeds in my skin so deeply that days later I can still feel him.
He’s changing, and it’s evident that he’s wanting too. He’s seems more relaxed, he laughs more and often captures me in the hotel for sweet kisses while no one is watching. But even though he makes me feel this way he’s still reserved. I’m waiting and wanting him to open up to me, to tell me his thoughts, his feelings and his fears. I want him to tell me about his childhood and why he felt so afraid that he had to hide. But he never does, and that makes my heart hurt—not because I feel he can’t trust me, but because I sense his fear. He’s yet to spend the whole night in my bed and I’m yet to even see his. He just stays until I fall asleep and when I wake he’s gone. That barrier between us is still there, which tells me he’s still struggling with what’s developing between us. Most women are likely to have insecurities from a man’s resistance; I probably should but I don’t. Andrew himself said he finds things like this difficult and I respect that, but that doesn’t stop me wanting to know why. The man is like a locked chest that’s lost it’s key.
Getting out of bed, I twist my hair up into a messy bun and head for a shower. I’ve booked a few days off, as I want to get prepared for when Lucas arrives—not that I have to do much as he’ll be moving into his new house, but that doesn’t stop me wanting to get sorted. I’ve not seen him since the autumn and excitement builds at the thought of having him permanently just around the corner.
I shower and change into my favourite Mickey Mouse pants and vest top and head down the hall to make myself breakfast. Andrew is already at work, leaving the house early after morning coffee and kisses, and the house is now not only filled with silence but a sexual charge. The man is now sex obsessed and can’t seem to get enough, not that I’m complaining.
Once breakfast is demolished I clear up and prepare for my morning task as my phone buzzes.
Lucas: I’ve landed. Just got to wait for the connection flight down to you. I hope you’re ready for me.
A mixture of excitement and nerves churns my stomach.
Me: I’m about to bake a truckload of Chocolate Brownies. Stay safe. I want you here in one piece.
Lucas: I knew there was a reason why I loved you. X
“Right let’s get this show on the road,” I say out aloud, taking the ingredients out of the cupboards. “Eggs, flour, caster sugar... music!” I have a habit of dancing around the kitchen to loud music when I’m baking, and doing it in underwear and an overly short, next-to-nothing vest top somehow makes me feel like a naughty housewife.
I break up and melt the chocolate in a pan over simmering water and begin to mix the butter and sugar in the mixing bowl until it’s fluffy before adding eggs and vanilla essence, all with the added touch of shaking my hips and singing aloud to my iPod. Next I add the cool, melted chocolate to the mixture, sift the flour and coco power in and mix. Once it’s layered into the baking tray, I place them in the oven.
Next, I move on to the all-time favourite part of my chocolate brownies that’s guaranteed to win anyone over. Chocolate spread and crushed peanut topping: mine and Lucas’ favourite. Bowls, baking trays and cooking utensils line the countertops along with a dusting of flour and scattered sugar. My body begins to prickle with heat from the warmth of the oven and my overdramatic dancing with a mixing bowl. I get lost in my own world when I bake—it’s like a therapy aside from tequila and club nights—I zone out and relish in the delicious smells that consume my taste-buds while I dance and lick the bowls clean.
As I swirl around to collect a baking tray, I scream when I catch Andrew watching me in the doorway with a sh
it-eating grin on his face. “How long have you been there?” I say, my heart in my throat.
“Not long enough by the way you’ve been shaking that gorgeous ass.” He turns down the music so we can hear each other better and looks me up and down, raising an eyebrow at my Mickey Mouse pants. My cheeks flush. “When you said, you bake, you never said you bake wearing those. How come I’ve not seen them before?”
“Probably because you always want me naked.” I smile.
“Fair point.” He comes behind me, snaking his arms around my waist, his mouth at my ear as he growls. “You look hot.”
“Lucas is arriving today so I thought I’d bake him some chocolate brownies. They’re our favourite.”
“They look good.”
“Would you like to try one?” I leave his embrace and collect a brownie that’s cooling on the rack, scooping a dollop of mixed chocolate and nuts to spread on top before licking off the spoon. I hand it to him, eager to know his thoughts, and loving the idea of being able to bake for him too.
He hesitates. “Am I ok to eat these? I mean they’re not poisoned, are they?”
A smile tugs my lips. “No. I like you today.”
“Good to hear, but I’d appreciate it if you inform me when you do poison my food, that way before I eat it, I can burn all my pin numbers and bank cards.”
I punch him in the arm. “Dickhead.”
He laughs and dives into the brownie while I wait in anticipation for his verdict.
“Hmm… oh my God. That taste incredible.”
“Pretty orgasmic, huh?”
“I’ve never had this chocolate spread stuff before. It’s good.”
My eyes are wide with his admission. “Shut up. You’ve never had it? Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true,” he chuckles. “I never had stuff like that at home and Annie was a diabetic so she never bought stuff like that when I’d visit her.”
“Was she a friend?” I ask clearing the bowls away and trying not to draw attention to the fact he’s talking about his personal life.
