by DM Davis
I slip my hands inside his jeans, over his firm ass, and squeeze before pulling them down, granting me better access. When my hand makes contact with his velvety steel cock, he releases me with a pop and rises to his full height. His eyes glide down my body and land on my hand stroking his shaft and teasing the tip with my thumb. I lick my lips, wanting to know what he tastes like, but I’ve never done that, and I’m not about to embarrass myself now.
“Dove,” he warns and steps back. Sitting on the edge of the tub, he motions for me to get in. He looks away, closes his eyes, and holds out his hand.
I slip off my panties and take his hand. Stepping over, I can barely get in without straddling the edge of the tub. I use his shoulder for support and graze my breast across him in the effort. Not very graceful. Thankfully, his eyes are closed.
Once in, I move to the far end of the tub and let him know he can open his eyes.
His fiery gaze burns a hole through the water and straight to my clit. Leaning over the tub, he sucks my bottom lip and pulls back. “Don’t look away.”
When he stands, his cock teases me from the top of his underwear. I start to avert my eyes, but I remember his words. He wants me to see.
He hooks his jeans and boxer briefs under his thumbs and pushes them down and off in one steady motion. My breath catches when he stands and his impressive erection bobs against his abdomen. He’s huge. I’ve felt him, and I’ve seen a little, but not like this. Not fully naked and aroused for my perusal.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, repeating my words from before. My awe, no less. My arousal, so much more.
His jaw clenches, and he palms his shaft, stroking it a few times. “Beautiful?”
My eyes lock on his. “Yes.” It’s more of a groan than a word as I get to my knees, forgetting my own nakedness is on full display, and reach out to replace his hand with mine. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Lauren.” He thrusts his hips into my grip and closes his eyes on a growl. “That feels so bloody good.” My hand is wet, and his cock moves easily through my fingers. I add my other hand, and when he feels the additional grip and wet heat, his eyes fly open. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Yes.” I close my eyes as the desire to see him undone bursts through me. One flick on my clit, and I know I’d join him.
With ninja precision, I’m lifted from the tub as Theo steps in and settles me on his lap, straddling his legs. I don’t even have time to yelp my surprise before his lips crash over mine. His hunger is fierce and domineering, and I take it. I take his fingers as his hand slips below the water and push into me. I take his groan and replace it with my gasp as he presses my clit against his shaft and starts to move me against him. I take his nips and his bites, and his soul-sucking kisses. I take his growl of pleasure when I slip my hand around his cock and stroke him in time with his fingers as they delve deep, sending my hips thrashing into him over and over again. I take his shudders and trembling muscles as he finds his release, and give him my own on a shattered cry of empowerment.
I take it all.
And he gives it back tenfold.
I AWAKE TO FIND MYSELF ALONE in Theo’s bed. I glance to the dark, empty bathroom and then to the rest of the room. It’s empty too. I run my hand under the sheets to Theo’s side to find it no longer warm from his body. He’s been gone a while. Disappointment pings inside me. The bedroom door is closed. I cock my head, listening for him, anything, to tell me he’s near. I’m met with silence.
Bathroom first, then Theo. I start to slip out of bed and pause. Shit, I’m naked. I look around for my clothes and spot a t-shirt folded on the end of the bed. I hop up and grab it, pulling it over my head before he walks in and sees me naked in the light of day—gravity in full effect. A piece of paper drifts to the floor. Picking it up, I read it as I stand.
My heart flutters at the sentiment. He’s thoughtful, informative, and romantic—all in one little note. I set it on the nightstand and see by the alarm clock it’s nearly 4:00 pm. I guess I slept a couple hours. I don’t know when he left but decide to take a quick shower to wash the smell of sex off me before getting dressed.
The hot shower is dreamy on my skin. I contemplate dipping my head under; to be surrounded by the heat would feel even better. Tantalizingly close to giving in, even though I washed my hair this morning, it’s the thought that I don’t have any of my hair stuff to fix it afterwards that stops me. Begrudgingly, I resist and quickly wash off.
Dressed in my jeans and Theo’s t-shirt, I make my way to the living room, looking around, confirming he’s not home. In the kitchen, I search for a glass, finding them in the third cabinet I open. I get ice and water from the refrigerator dispenser, drinking it down in two gulps, and refill it.
With my glass in hand, I take a better look at Theo’s home. Out the kitchen window is a nice-sized backyard with two large trees—that should provide nice shade from the Texas heat during the warmer months—a stone patio with a grill and deck chairs, and a new-ish wood fence framing it all in. Having grown up in an apartment—still living in one, too, a backyard is appealing, but the idea of yardwork, not so much. I wouldn’t have the first clue how to mow a lawn, much less trim hedges. Though, I suppose that’s what a gardener is for, or a man like Theo. The idea of him working shirtless in the yard, a glistening sweaty mess, has me sighing as I turn away from the window.
I wander to the fireplace and eye the bookshelves that flank it. The shelves contain a mix of books, pictures, and keepsakes. Most of the pictures include Theo with other people. Looking closer, I assume it’s his family. One picture has Theo with an older man and woman, and two boys and two girls. They all have the same dark brown hair with a touch of curl. I can’t make out their eye color, but the resemblance is uncanny. Theo looks like his dad, the same lips, bone structure, and coloring. One brother and sister look like their dad too. The other siblings take after their mom. In all, they’re a handsome bunch, and really smart—quite the combination. With my blonde hair and light skin, I would definitely be the odd man out.
Their pictures remind me of those Kennedy family albums I remember seeing as a kid: a beautiful, successful family living in a world completely different from my own.
They are other pictures with his siblings, minus Theo, and who I assume are their spouses and kids. I like that he has pictures of his family. I don’t know too many single men who decorate with, much less have, pictures of their families on display in their home. I’m more like those single men who don’t have personal photos canvassing their homes, though not for the same reason, I’m sure.
I grab a book off a shelf and plop down in one of the wingback chairs in front of the fireplace. Settling in sideways, I swing my legs over the arm. The fireplace wasn’t lit when we arrived. Theo must have started it before he left. My considerate man, taking care of me even when he’s not here. Maybe he did it more practically for the warmth, as it’s still quite cold outside.
I open the book, read through the dedication, and flip pages to the first chapter. But my mind’s not in it. It’s too busy multi-tasking, thinking about other things; the words are not sticking.
Thinking of our vacation, I make a mental list of things to pack and buy for the trip based on the fact it’s a beach destination. I should confirm it’s a warm destination, as there are plenty of beaches that will still be cold in March.
A twinge of sadness hits me when I realize we only have two more days together, Sunday and Monday, before our bubble bursts and we return to the real world. I try not to dwell on it. Instead, I ponder what we could do with our remaining days, knowing full well that what we’ve been doing since lunch is probably exactly what we really want to do. But getting out of the house would be good for us. I don’t need outside entertainment to enjoy my time with Theo. Having a simple conversation with him is enough for me. But he’s an athletic kind of a guy and would probably enjoy doing something physical—beyond sex-stuff physical.
An idea hits me, an
d I grab my phone, calling my brother Bobby for his assistance. A few minutes later, a plan is hatched. He’ll make a few phone calls and text back with the details.
I’m excited. I hope it pans out.
I place my phone back on the end table and open the book, trying to concentrate on the words this time.
Rustling has my eyes flying open. Shit, I fell asleep.
Theo smirks at me as he passes through the room to the kitchen with grocery bags in his hands. “Hullo, beautiful. I’m sorry I woke you.” I move to get up, but he stops me. “No. Don’t get up. You look too comfortable.”
“Are you sure I can’t help? I don’t mind.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve got it. Relax.”
He sets the groceries on the counter, sluffs his jacket, placing it on the back of his office chair. His long legs eat up the distance between us. He’s wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt, and some sort of black workman-style boots. He’d be sinister with his scowling brow and chiseled jaw if it weren’t for the heat in his eyes and the warmth of his smile. He takes my breath away.
He kneels in front of me, and I run my fingers through his hair. “Hi.”
“Hi, Dove.” His eyes roam my body as he leans in, brushing his lips across mine in a tender kiss. “What are you reading?” He lifts the book I’m clutching in my lap and reads the title, “The Last Lecture. That’s a good one. Have you read it before?” He sets it on the end table, his hand drawing up my leg to rest on my thigh.
Warmth floods my body. “Years ago. I remember it was quite inspiring.” I motion to the fireplace. “The fire lulled me to sleep. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“I thought you might enjoy it, so I started it before I left.”
“I do. Have you been gone long?”
“Not long. I wanted to stay…” Another kiss. “And sleep with you, but I needed groceries. I bought Diet Coke. Would you like one?”
He bought me Diet Coke? The thought nearly has me in tears. “Yes,” I manage around the tightness in my chest. “Is that part of feeding my body?” I reference his note teasingly, but I know he can see my emotions as if they’re lit up like a neon sign.
“Dove.” He presses his forehead to mine. His eyes close as he cups the side of my face. “Everything I do is to feed your soul.” His voice is whisper-soft, a reverent revelation.
I clasp his wrist and tilt my head, blending my mouth with his, feeding on his goodness, his light, his belief that I am worthy of him.
His arms encase me, pulling me upright so he can settle between my legs. He takes over the kiss, commanding my surrender. But it’s not my body he’s after. It’s my pain. He wants to devour it—free me from its grasp—breaking the chains that bind me.
I pull back on a shuddered breath, cupping his face, my eyes all but bleeding my love for him. “I’m not sure a Diet Coke feeds my soul, but I’ll take it.”
He laughs and wraps me in a hug. “It does, and you know it.”
It does, because it’s not about the Diet Coke at all. It’s about him going out of his way to do something nice for me. Like starting a fire for my enjoyment and buying me my indulgent drink that is no good for me but makes me happy.
He’s cherishing me, and my heart is near to bursting with love.
With a quick kiss to the cheek, he stands, holding his hand out. “Come join me in the kitchen.”
Standing, he pulls me into his embrace. His hands move up and down my back while his eyes roam my face as if he hasn’t seen me in ages. “You alright?”
“I’m perfect.”
“You are.” His hand shifts, moving to cup my breast. His eyes light up as he confirms I’m sans bra. “Fucking perfect.” His thumb grazes my nipple seconds before he lifts my shirt, bends me back—I yelp—and sucks my nipple deep into his mouth. One, then the other.
“Theo.” My fingers sink into his hair, holding on, keeping him close, struggling to keep my balance.
“I won’t let you fall,” he chastises, kissing up my chest, then up my neck as he pulls my shirt down and rights me in his arms. “And if you do, I’ll catch you.”
My hand lands on his racing heart, beating with a rhythm that matches my own. It does something to me, knowing he’s as affected as I am. “You’re too good to me, Professor.”
He pulls me toward the kitchen. “No, Dove. I’m exactly the right amount of good for you.”
I pray he never stops thinking that.
He halts and turns, grabbing my shoulders to stop me from bumping into him. “I nearly forgot.” He reaches into his pocket, producing my keys. “I picked up a few things from your apartment I thought you might need. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Seriously?” Why would I mind? I can’t believe he did that.
“Seriously.” He kisses my forehead. “Be right back.”
He disappears down the hall and out the garage door, returning with one of my overnight bags.
“I hope I packed everything you need.” His smile is surprisingly sheepish. Not like him at all.
“I’m sure whatever you brought will be perfect. It’s more than I had before you left, right?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens at that. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
Instead of giving me my bag, he pulls me to his room, setting the bag on the bed. “You can put your stuff anywhere. I meant it when I said make yourself at home. My home is your home, alright?”
“Thank you. Truly.”
“Welcome.” He kisses my temple. “Come join me when you’re done.”
“I’ll only be a minute.”
“Take your time.” And with that, he’s gone.
I delve into the overnight bag, not believing my eyes. He packed my toothbrush and toothpaste, brushes, hairdryer with the diffuser and the concentrator, shampoo and conditioner, mousse, deodorant, facial soap, bras, panties, yoga pants, a couple of shirts, socks and tennis shoes.
Jeez, I can move in, except I can’t wear this stuff to work. I love how thoughtful and thorough he is.
Love is in the details. And right now, I’m feeling his love—hard.
I put all my toiletries in the shower and on the bathroom counter, hoping he won’t feel invaded. I leave everything else in the bag, setting it on the chair by the bed.
In the kitchen, Theo hands me a Diet Coke with a wink. He knows he did good—crazy good.
“Thank you for my clothes and everything.”
“I was happy to do it.” He kisses the tip of my nose on the way to the stove. “I rather enjoyed it. It was hot going through your bras and panties.” He raises his eyebrows and gives me that mischievous smile of his. “Though, I’d be happy if you didn’t wear any of them.” His gaze meets my chest before he turns back, stirring the veggies in the pan.
“I’m not wearing my bra or panties, so I guess you got your wish.” I back away slowly. Baiting him will have consequences. Delicious consequences.
The gas pops off, and the pan is moved to the back burner. The devilish twinkle in his brown eyes greets me before he’s fully turned.
“You’re not wearing panties either?” His eyes lower to my crotch, making me squirm and fight the need to cover myself as if he can see right through my jeans.
“No.” I take another step toward the kitchen archway.
“You’re commando?” He stalks closer, each step matching one of mine.
“I didn’t say that.”
His head tilts, assessing my words. “Are you teasing me?” There’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before.
I shake my head, passing the arch and stepping closer to his desk. “I’m trying to entice you.”
“Dove, one look at you is all the enticement I need.” His response—too quick to be anything but sincere—has me stilling for a second too long, and he nearly reaches me in one stride.
I jump to the side and continue my backsteps toward the hall.
He smiles, shaking his head, and licks his lips. “You’re not wearing p
anties and you’re not naked under your jeans. So, what do you have on under there?”
Wouldn’t he like to know?
I hold up my hand, and he stops, sinking his hands into his pockets, his brow questioning. His eyes still scan me as if he has x-ray vision.
I rock on my feet, biting my lip. “I kinda went through your underwear drawer too.”
“You what? Why?” He’s amused, not irritated. Thankfully.
“I…uh, showered and didn’t have anything clean to wear. So…” I hedge a second before turning and darting around the corner, yelling out in a rush, “Iborrowedapairofyours.”
He’s on my tail milliseconds from reaching me. I can feel it but don’t dare look for fear of smashing into the wall. He might catch me if I fall, but he can’t stop me from face-planting into a wall if he’s behind me.
I squeak when he grabs me around the waist, lifting me off my feet as I enter his room. I’m laughing so hard, winded and trying to catch my breath, that I can’t even fight him as he swings me around. One arm bands my waist, the other around my chest, his hand firmly planted over my breast.
“I’ve got you now.” He breathes onto my neck, laughter rumbling in his chest and teasing my ear.
I shiver and wrap my arms around his, leaning into his chest, my back to his front. Lowering me, he holds on, turning me once he’s sure I’m steady on my feet.
He cradles my cheek, tilting my head toward his. “Show me.” He’s grinning, and his eyes are bright with excitement.
“Not yet,” I pant.
He runs a finger along the waistband of my jeans. I suck in a breath as he bends, stopping when his lips are whisper-close to mine. “Show me.”
“No.” I grab his seductive hand and try not to squirm, smile, or laugh. Serious, I’m going for serious here. “Maybe if you’re a good boy, you’ll get to see them later.” I close the distance and peck his lips. “Now feed me. Please.”
Narrowing his eyes, he rises to his impressive height of 6’3”. He considers me for a second before a smile breaks free. “Come on.”
