Living with Her Ex-Boyfriend (The Loft, #2)

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Living with Her Ex-Boyfriend (The Loft, #2) Page 15

by Adams, Noelle


  “I feel good. A little sore.”

  “Ah.” His hand moved then, sliding down her back to her bottom, rubbing it gently.

  “Not there! I meant...”

  He burst into laughter, and she couldn’t help but giggle too as she buried her face against his chest. “I know what you meant,” he murmured. “I was just teasing.”

  “Okay. Because that other thing wasn’t nearly hard enough for me to still be sore this morning. I don’t want to be bruised or anything. I just... I just like it. I don’t know why.”

  He pulled her over on top of him so she was looking down into his face. He met her eyes soberly. “You don’t have to know why. No pressure. No shame. Remember?”

  “Yes.” She was shuddering with something deep, and she didn’t know if it was trust or appreciation or self-consciousness or nerves or all of them at once. “I never knew I was like this before.”

  “Like what?” His eyebrows lifted slightly, almost wary, as if he were afraid she was saying something he wouldn’t like.

  “Sexy. Adventurous. Not vanilla. I never knew I was like this. I used to daydream about it, but I never imagined I could actually do anything like it in real life. I never imagined I could do a lot of things I’ve done over the past few months.”

  As soon as she’d said the first word, his face had relaxed, clearly relieved that she wasn’t putting herself down. He lifted a hand to cup her face. “You can do and be anything you want, kitten, and I’ll be there for you when you do.”

  Her face twisted slightly with emotion, and she leaned down to kiss him. He responded immediately, brushing his lips against hers and then sliding his tongue along the crack until she opened for him.

  As soon as the kiss grew deeper, her body began to respond. She parted her thighs so her legs were pressed on either side of his, and she rubbed her chest against his. She was wearing a tank top and pajama shorts, but she still loved the feel of him beneath her.

  She pulled out of the kiss at last and met his eyes again. His were hot and groggy and hungry. She said, “I want you to be and do everything you want too.”

  “I’m doing it,” he said hoarsely. “I’m doing it right now.”

  She took a ragged breath as emotion tightened inside her again. She didn’t want to cry and ruin the moment, but she felt so full and rich and valued.

  Loved.

  Loved for who she truly was.

  With a trembling smile, she leaned down to kiss him again, and this time he was even deeper, more possessive, his tongue moving in her mouth and his hands over her body like he was entitled to it, like it was his. He caressed up and down over her back, her ass, her thighs, his hands branding her everywhere he touched.

  Soon she was so turned on she had to squirm, and she rubbed herself against the erection that had grown in his pants.

  He moaned into her mouth, squeezing the top of her thighs, just below her bottom.

  “I want you to make love to me, Steve,” she mumbled, when her arousal was becoming torturous.

  “I am.” He started rocking his hips up into her, and she ground herself against the bulge in his hands.

  “I want to feel you inside me.” She was pressing kisses around his mouth now, her lips scratching against his rough morning bristles.

  His hands slid up so they were cupping her butt. “Do you need anything else first?”

  “No.” She giggled softly as she kept running her lips along his jaw, loving the feel of his bristles. “I don’t need that all the time, you know.”

  “Okay. Just making sure.”

  “But I do want you to be on top,” she said. “If you don’t—”

  He had them flipped over, her on her back and him over her, before she could finish her sentence.

  “Oh,” she said, blinking up at him. “That was fast.”

  “I’m good at a few things.”

  “You’re good at all kinds of things. All the things I want you to be good at, you are.”

  His face softened, and his hips rolled against hers, pushing his erection against her hot arousal. She reached for the waistband of his pajama pants and started pushing them down. He helped her, and soon both were naked and kissing again.

  He parted her legs and lined himself up so he could enter her. He pushed in slowly, and she arched in pleasure as he did. She wrapped her legs around him as he started to thrust. And her heart was filled to overflowing when he kissed her again.

  It went on a long time, them kissing and wrapped up in each other. They were rocking together in a slow, steady rhythm, and everything felt deep and full and intimate.

  Eventually her pleasure started to mount for real, and after a while it became frustrating—her orgasm just out of reach.

  “What’s the matter, kitten,” Steve murmured, pulling out of the kiss at last.

  She arched beneath him with a little whimper. “I need to come.”

  “What do you need?”

  “I need it faster, harder.”

  Tension broke on his face, and she saw a flare of primal excitement smolder in his eyes. Her legs had fallen back down to the bed, and now he bent them up, pushing her knees toward her chest.

  “Yes,” she hissed, tossing her head as he held her position and started thrusting vigorously. “Yes. Just like that.”

  He was really getting into it now. His skin was damp. Muscles rippled in his jaw and his shoulders. His nostrils flared as he took her hard.

  The coiled pleasure skyrocketed inside her, and she started making little grunts and mewls that got louder and louder.

  Steve braced himself above her, pushing into her with such force that the headboard banged against the wall in a shameless staccato.

  She came hard, crying out as her climax finally broke. He kept pushing against her contractions until he was coming too. He rasped out, “Yes. Kitten. Yes,” as he rode out his release.

  Then he was releasing her knees, helping her straighten her legs. And he was taking her into his arms and holding her tightly, almost desperately. They lay tangled up together, panting and hot and sated.

  Until finally Michelle roused herself enough to look at the clock. “Shit.”

  “What time is it?” Steve asked hoarsely. His body had softened deliciously. She loved how relaxed and satisfied he seemed.

  “It’s seven.” She moved her legs, aware that she was very wet between her thighs.

  “We’ll be okay. It only takes me twenty minutes to get ready, and your class doesn’t start until nine. Don’t get up yet.” He’d rolled over onto his back, taking her with him so she was still snuggled up against him.

  She sighed and relaxed. “Ten more minutes.”

  “Okay. Ten minutes.” He nuzzled her hair. “I’ll take it.”

  They lay together in contented silence for the entire ten minutes. When she started to stir again, Steve let her go, but he didn’t appear inclined to get up yet. She shook her head at him as she found her pajamas and put them on. “Don’t you need coffee?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to coffee,” he replied with a fond smile, “but I’d take staying in bed with you over coffee any day.”

  No way not to swoon at that.

  Steve stretched his arms and legs, yawning as he looked over toward the big windows, where the sun was starting to peek in around the blinds. “I like this room,” he said. “It’s nice to wake up here again. I wouldn’t mind doing it all the time.”

  She froze for a moment at the implication of his words.

  His head snapped over toward her, and he said in a rush, “Not that I have to. I’m not saying that I have to move back in.”

  “I know.” She smiled at him again and added, “I’ll go get us some coffee so you can stay in bed for five more minutes.”

  She’d been planning to get them coffee, but mostly she wanted to get out of the room.

  Her heart was racing painfully in her chest, and she was having trouble catching her breath.

  She and Steve were back together.r />
  That much was obvious.

  And she wanted it as much as he clearly did.

  But he wanted to move back in with her. He’d just made that very obvious.

  It was what he always wanted. To be serious. Fast. A wife and children. A traditional domestic life.

  It was always who he’d been.

  She wanted him to have everything he wanted. He’d given her so much, and she wanted to do the same for him. If he wanted to move in with her, then she didn’t want to disappoint him.

  But it terrified her.

  She’d gone cold at the thought of it.

  She put a cup in position, placed a pod in the one-cup brewer, and turned it on. Then she thought about something else she could do and went out into the hall and down the stairs to grab Steve’s newspaper.

  She was on her way up when she jerked in surprise when she saw Steve at the top of the stairs. He wore nothing but his flannel pants, and he’d clearly been about to run down the stairs because he had to reach out to grab the railing to stop himself from barreling into her.

  “Steve? What—”

  “Please don’t run away,” he rasped, grabbing her by the upper arms as she reached the landing. “I’m sorry I rushed things. I didn’t mean to. It just slipped out. I wasn’t trying to pressure you. I promise I wasn’t.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m not running away. I was just going to get your newspaper.”

  The chill of fear she’d experienced earlier had almost entirely dissipated by her surprise and Steve’s adorable clumsy urgency.

  He was so scared.

  He was so scared he’d blown it with her.

  He was just as scared of messing up as she was.

  “You were?” His eyes moved from her face to the newspaper in her hand and then back again.

  “Yes. I was. I was going to bring it to you with your coffee.”

  “You were?” His voice cracked slightly, and something resembling awe was dawning in his eyes.

  “Yes. I was. I was a little scared. I admit that. But I wasn’t going to run. Certainly not in my pajamas.”

  “You weren’t?”

  She giggled. “No. I love you, Steve. I want to be with you. Both of us have changed, gotten better, and I think we can do it this time. I’m going to get scared sometimes because of how things went before. I don’t want it to happen again like that.”

  “I don’t either.” He reached out to take one of her hands, the one not holding the newspaper. “We’re not going to let that happen again.”

  “I don’t think so either. I might still get scared. But I don’t think I’ll get so scared that you have to come running after me in your pajamas.”

  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “I’d run after you anywhere.”

  “I’d run after you too,” she said against his chest.

  He drew back and took her face in his hands. “I love you too, Michelle. You know that, right? I loved you right from the beginning, when you looked up from your laptop in the dining hall and gave me that disapproving look for sitting at your table, and I’ve never stopped since. I’m never going to stop loving you.”

  Her mouth trembled into a smile. “I’m never going to stop loving you either. We’re a matching set.”

  He made a strange little choking sound and pulled her back into his arms. “Exactly. A matching set.”

  They were still hugging at the top of the stairs when someone cleared his throat from the hallway behind them. They straightened up and saw a man walking toward them, clearly having come from the apartment across the hall from them.

  The Suit.

  He was evidently back home and, unsurprisingly, wearing a suit.

  He was probably in his late twenties. He was tall and fit and handsome in a cool, arrogant way. Michelle didn’t like that kind of look. He wasn’t nearly as warm and touchable and sexy as Steve.

  He gave them an annoyed glare as they stepped out of his way, murmuring, “Good morning,” without waiting for a response.

  Steve scowled and rolled his eyes as the man disappeared out the door of the building. “Way to ruin a moment, asshole.”

  Michelle laughed and took his arm, pulling him back toward the apartment. “He didn’t ruin anything.”

  As they were getting their coffee, Steve said, “I’m going to stay living in my room for now.”

  Michelle opened her mouth to object but then closed it again.

  “I am,” Steve said. “We love each other. That’s more than I could have hoped for. I’m not going to rush it. Things are going really well, and I don’t need to force them into exactly where I think they should be. We moved too fast before. We’re going to take it slow this time.”

  She smiled at him sappily. “As long as taking it slow doesn’t mean we can’t have lots and lots of sex.”

  “I don’t think taking it slow precludes that.”

  “Okay. Good. Then taking it slow sounds perfect to me.”

  THEY DID TAKE IT SLOW, if taking it slow meant living in rooms down the hall from each other and being together every night.

  A month later, Lucas and Jill had a (slightly belated) housewarming party at their new apartment, and Steve and Michelle arrived late because Michelle had to close at Tea for Two.

  It wasn’t a very big get-together. Just them and Chloe and Brent and a few of Jill’s friends from work and a couple of other people Steve didn’t know.

  There were no more than a dozen people in the small apartment, which Jill had fixed up with the same comfort and coziness she’d used to fix up the loft apartment. Steve was glad to see that Jill and Lucas looked so happy, and he was even more glad that Michelle was at his side, clinging to his hand, looking flushed and content and relaxed and glowing somehow, like she was so pleased with the world that it spilled out through the pores of her skin.

  She was happy.

  The past month had been amazing—for both of them.

  Steve had thought he was happy when they’d first been together because he’d loved Michelle and he wanted to be with her. But he realized now what she’d tried to tell him over and over—that both of them were chafing against the knowledge of things they wanted but couldn’t have.

  They had them now. Both of them. And so they could be together without all the damage.

  They could also be together in every way they wanted in the bedroom. The sex they’d been having over the past month was better than anything he’d ever experienced—or dreamed about experiencing. Michelle was creative and generous and exciting and nakedly eager to embrace this side of their relationship. She liked to be spanked, but she liked a lot of other things too.

  And Steve liked all of it. He went to sleep exhausted nearly every night, but he woke up the next morning wanting more.

  He’d never thought he was a particularly adventurous man sexually, but maybe he was.

  With Michelle, he was.

  After they’d greeted everyone at the party, Michelle went to help Jill put some snacks on a tray, so Steve wandered over to where Lucas was leaning against the back of the couch.

  “Hey, this place looks great, man,” Steve said, leaning back against the couch beside his friend.

  “Thanks. Jill did most of it, of course. I just got to move the furniture every time she wanted to change the positions.”

  Steve laughed. “Sounds reasonable.”

  “I think so.” Lucas glanced over to where his fiancée was talking to Michelle. “And what about you?”

  “Michelle doesn’t usually expect me to move furniture.”

  Lucas slanted him a look.

  “Things are going well,” Steve admitted. “We’re taking one day at a time.”

  “What about those fights? They were something else.”

  “Yeah. We don’t do that anymore.”

  “At all?”

  “We argue sometimes. Of course. But we don’t scream at each other. The thing that was... wrong has been fixed.”

  “So ha
ve you thought about doing the engagement thing?” Lucas asked, glancing back at Jill, who was showing someone Steve didn’t know her engagement ring. “It’s a pretty good gig.”

  Steve laughed at the dryness in Lucas’s voice. “I bet it is. But I think we’ll be moving slower than you and Jill did. I think it’s better that way.”

  He didn’t go into all the reasons with Lucas. Lucas was a good friend, but he just didn’t talk that way with other guys. He didn’t talk that way with anyone except Michelle.

  And the truth was he wanted to ask Michelle to marry him. He wanted it more than anything. He wanted to marry her, start a family with her, live with her forever. In every dream of his future, it was Michelle by his side.

  He was an old-fashioned guy, and that hadn’t changed. The future he wanted was old-fashioned too.

  But wanting that for the future didn’t mean he was any less happy right now. He wanted the best for her as much as he did for himself. And Michelle still needed some time to feel at home in her new life. He wasn’t going to push her into a role she wasn’t yet ready for.

  She loved him.

  That was more than enough.

  Lucas clapped him on the shoulder as Jill and Michelle came over to them. Michelle stood beside him, and Steve wrapped an arm around her. She was giggling about something Jill had said, but Steve hadn’t been paying enough attention to follow it.

  Chloe came over to tell them a hilarious story about a woman who’d followed her around at the grocery store, and Brent wandered over to listen.

  When there was a pause in the conversation, Brent asked, “So do you think you guys might be moving into the same room again soon?”

  Steve blinked at the blunt question, but he said easily, “Too soon to tell.”

  “Because if you do, I’ll take that empty room.”

  “Oh really?” Michelle asked. “I didn’t know you were looking for a place. I thought you were still living across the hall.”

  “I am. But Vince is ready for me to move out.”

  They all stared at Brent blankly.

  He frowned above his thick beard. “What?”

  “Vince?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes. Vince. The guy who lives across from you. He’s a decent guy but not really the roommate type, so if you ever have an empty room, I’d love to take it.”

 

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