Out of Her League (Love & Other Disasters Book 2)

by Jennifer Dawson

  I cover her. Spread her wide and slide my cock between her splayed pussy. In an instant, she coats me. I grit my teeth as her wetness slicks over me, before I moan, “Fuck.”

  Face flushed and beautiful, she arches into my erection. “Now, please now.”

  I growl, pull back and rip the condom wrapper off before sheathing myself. “I’ve been wanting this so bad, Tessa.”

  “Me too.” She grips my shaft and guides me close.

  I sink into her wet warmth, pulling back when I meet resistance, before sliding back in.

  More. More. More.

  “So tight.” The words harsh, uttered like a curse.

  She whimpers. “You feel so good.”

  I work my way inside her tight sheath until, finally, at long last I’m fully seated. I push her hair off her cheek, meeting her gaze, and sudden emotion wells in my chest. I choke out the words, “Thank you for giving this to me.”

  She cups my jaw, rubs a thumb over my lower lip. “It’s always been you.”

  My heart gives a hard thump against my ribs. Somehow I’ve known this. It thrills and terrifies me at the same time. “Tessa.”

  She shakes her head. “Please, just take me.”

  This, I can give her. Can explain. I move, pulling out and thrusting back in, as she welcomes me into her body. I don’t look away, just stare deeply into her eyes as I thrust again.

  And then again. And again.

  It’s unbearably intimate. Sweet. Like fucking magic.

  It shakes me, but I can’t stop. Don’t want to.

  “More.” Her voice is a soft whisper. “More.”

  “Yes, more,” I answer back, surging deep inside her.

  She arches her neck, keening to meet me, wrapping her legs around my waist.

  I never want it to end. I want to keep going on and on.

  Her body quickens and mine responds, tingling along the base of my spine.

  I slow my pace.

  Make my movements languid and shallow.

  Cause it can’t end yet. It’s too good.

  Everything I’d imagined her to be.

  Hot.

  Slick.

  Tight.

  But it feels better than anything I could have ever anticipated.

  I don’t know where the words come from, but they are tumbling from my lips before I can stop them. I confess. “Never been so good.”

  “Yes.” Her hips roll, instinctive and ancient and primal.

  “I don’t want it to end.” I lean down and bite her lip. “Want to stay here forever.”

  Her hands tangle in my hair. “Yes, me too. Don’t stop.”

  “I love the way you feel. You’re so soft.”

  “You’re so hard.”

  “I’ve…” She does something with her body that makes my vision blur and I lose my train of thought. “Yes, fuck, like that.”

  She does it again and our breathing becomes nothing but hard pants.

  “I can’t help it.” I push deep inside her. “I want you to come for me, Tessa. Need to feel it.”

  I move harder. Thrust. But we never break eye contact.

  “Yes.” She moans.

  I circle my hips, pressing flush against her clit so she can feel me with every stroke I make.

  Her nails dig into my shoulders. “I’m so close. So close.”

  I move urgently now, the pressure of my own orgasm seeping over my skin. I take her nipple and play with it as I thrust inside her. She stiffens, her eyes close and her pussy tightens around my cock.

  I pinch, hard, and she tumbles over the edge, locking tight against me as she rocks, and the climax takes hold of her. It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and throws me over the edge, tumbling right along with her.

  The orgasm rocks over me, bone deep, with such sheer pleasure I want to lose my fucking mind. She calls out my name and I answer with hers. I pummel into her, mindless in the blissful sensation of her milking the best fucking climax of my life from me.

  Aftershocks still shivering over my skin, I collapse in a panting heap on top of her, burying my head in her neck as I ride out the last waves.

  The second it ends, the panic crashes in on me, and I want nothing more than to get away. The desire is so strong cold sweat breaks out along my heated skin.

  I have to get out of here.

  It’s too much. She’s too much.

  She shifts under me.

  I raise my head, ready to tell her it’s late and I should go.

  But then I look into her flushed face, the blissed-out glaze of her eyes, and everything tilts. I can’t bear it. I go to speak, but instead of the words I intend, I say, “Let’s call into work tomorrow.”

  Lashes fluttering, she blinks at me, before giving me the sweetest, softest smile I’ve ever seen. “Yes, let’s.”

  The rush of panic melts away, replaced by satisfaction and peace.

  Chapter Eight

  Tessa

  I’m not going to lie; I’m on cloud nine.

  I can no longer pretend. I’m falling in love with Xavier, and I think—or I hope—he’s falling in love with me. It’s been three weeks since we spent the night together.

  As promised, the next day we’d called into work, both of us feigning illness. We’d spent the day, naked. We’d lain in bed, talked, laughed, and watched TV, without a stitch of clothing on. It’s funny, up until him, I’d never imagined walking around my apartment naked, but I’d loved it.

  Every single day since has gotten better and better and we’ve grown closer and closer.

  Being with Xavier gives me a confidence I’d lacked before. Not about my looks, but about living my life. He’s emboldened me. Now I seek out fun, and the kind of adventure I’ve always craved, but had been too passive to go for. I can’t stop smiling. I can’t stop laughing. And shopping, oh my god, I finally understood and it has become fun.

  We’ve been practically inseparable, and our relationship has expanded beyond my apartment. We’re going places and doing things. He’s taken me to all the hot spots in Chicago. We’ve done all the tourist things too, things I’ve never done, despite living here my whole life.

  We have fun. The sex, which is fantastic, is merely a bonus.

  Tonight, he’d surprised me by asking me to go to his nana’s for dinner. We hadn’t talked about what we were doing, or said anything to our friends, so I hadn’t expected it. Something I’d never have dreamed would happen on Valentine’s night when they’d driven me home from my disastrous date. It secretly thrilled me, because I know what a big deal it is. Xavier does not bring women to dinner with his grandma.

  But he’s bringing me.

  I twist in the mirror in my bathroom, surveying the results of my effort.

  I’d dressed in a long, camel-colored tunic, adorned with a brown leather woven belt, cream leggings and knee-high boots. I’d also treated myself to a blow out and my hair was sleek and straight, flowing down my back. I look good. Almost pretty instead of cute.

  The doorbell rings and I run to answer it, buzzing Xavier up.

  A minute later he’s there, holding me close and kissing me as I melt into him.

  When he finally pulls back he flicks a finger through my hair. “What happened to your curls?”

  I smile at him. “I got a blow out.”

  His brow creases. “What is a blow out?”

  I laugh. “They use a blow dryer to straighten your hair.”

  He stands back and glances at me, before shaking his head. “I love your curls, but I can’t deny you look quite beautiful.”

  A statement I wouldn’t have believed before, but do now. I may not be a leggy, stick-thin supermodel, and that’s okay. I’m me. And, he’s right; I am quite beautiful, both inside and out. I do a little curtsy. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”

  He winks at me. “Now that I’ve watched every version of Pride and Prejudice known to man, including one with zombies, I understand the reference.”

  “Indeed.” I wiggle my br
ows. “Now all we need to do is read the book.”

  “I’m still burnt out on reading.” He taps a finger against his temple. “Med school.”

  “Hmmm…” I tilt my head, grinning at him. “We could read it together, out loud.”

  “That seems like a fair compromise.” He digs his keys out of his pocket. “Are you ready to go?”

  I grab my purse. “Yep, I’m excited to see your nana again, thanks for inviting me.”

  “She’s excited too.” A shadow crosses over his face.

  “What’s wrong?” My heart speeds up.

  “Nothing.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m—” He clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

  “Me too.”

  We haven’t talked about what we’re doing. Or what it means. All conversations about our spending time together are off the table. I’m not sure if that’s wrong, it probably is, but I don’t want this to end and I’m afraid to bring it up. To push him, because I understand him now. Attachment makes him nervous, he doesn’t trust it. It’s too fragile for him to take a risk on.

  Despite the hope I harbor, realistically, I’m fairly sure we’ll have to stop at some point. But I’m not ready yet. I matter to him, I know that, but I still can’t convince myself we’re going to end up together. Xavier is closed off to permanent relationships.

  When it ends, I’ll have a broken heart, so I intend to make every second count.

  Besides, what’s the rush? We have such a good time together.

  I swing my purse over my shoulder, and start to walk out the door, but he stops me, swings me around and presses me up against the wall. “Tessa?”

  “Yes, Xavier?”

  “What are you doing to me?”

  I want to say I’m loving him. Not because of his looks, or because he’s a doctor, but unconditionally. Words I have to keep hidden. Besides his nana, that’s something he’s never had before, and it makes him uneasy, because he’s going to have to risk his heart.

  I lick my lower lip, and shake my head. “The same thing you’re doing to me.”

  He leans down and kisses me, long and deep. Like he never wants to let me go, and a shiver races down my spine. When he lifts his head, he says, “I don’t want to stop.”

  I touch his jaw, tracing it with my fingers. “Who says you have to?”

  His expression creases. “I’m nervous.”

  “About what?”

  He blows out a breath. “I’m taking you to dinner at my grandma’s.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  He straightens and drags a hand through his hair. “I’ve never taken anyone to dinner at my grandma’s. You’re the only one.”

  I’d known this, but it thrills me he’s admitted it to me. I tread carefully. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”

  Frustration narrows his eyes. “I want it to mean something. It does mean something.”

  My heart gives a hard thump. “What do you want it to mean?”

  “You matter to me, Tessa.” His voice is filled with frustration.

  I need to give him time, to adapt, so I say simply, “You matter to me too.”

  A muscle in his jaw jumps. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I’m acting like an idiot.”

  “No, you’re not.” I rise to my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “I think you’re adorable.”

  He straightens. “You take that back.”

  I laugh. “I will not.” Then I duck under his arm and flounce out the door.

  Xavier

  Tessa’s driving me right out of my mind.

  I don’t know how she does it, but no matter how tense I am, she always manages to ease me. She’s got some sort of magic I can’t explain. Despite evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know what’s happening.

  I’m in a relationship with Tessa.

  It has all the signs and it’s scaring the shit out of me. But every time I start to get nervous, she manages to soothe it out of me. And I want her too much to stop.

  So here I am, taking her to my grandma’s for dinner.

  Because I want to. Because it will make my nana and Tessa happy. Because she’s become important to me.

  None of our friends know, although my group is on to me, sensing something is up since I’ve fallen virtually off the map. They keep asking, and I tell them I’m taking a break from manwhoring.

  Which is true. I haven’t even thought about another woman.

  At work a nurse propositioned me, and I didn’t even flicker.

  I barely noticed, until Jace called it to my attention.

  That’s when it hit me. What I’d been avoiding.

  I was in a relationship with Tessa.

  It’s not what I want, and it’s unspoken between us, but somehow it’s happened.

  It makes me nervous. I thought about canceling on her.

  When I’d been waiting for her to let me up to her apartment, I’d told myself to end it. To explain we couldn’t go on like this. I don’t want attachments. I don’t need a relationship in my life. I have too many other things I want to do. My main priority has always been my career and I don’t want that to change, that’s my focus and she can’t distract me from it.

  I’d prepared my speech.

  She’d opened the door, looking so pretty and sleek, her expression warm and inviting.

  Resolve wavering, I’d held my ground.

  Then she’d smiled at me. Whatever I was going to say melted from my mind and all I wanted to do was be with her.

  So here we are, going to dinner with the only family that matters to me.

  My nana opens the door, and gives us a broad smile, waving us inside her old, historic brownstone. “Come in, come in.” She kisses me on the cheek and then turns to Tessa, hugging her tightly. “It’s so lovely to see you again, dear girl.”

  Tessa squeezes back, closing her eyes as though she’s trying to commit the embrace to memory. “You too. Thank you for having me.”

  “The pleasure is all mine.” She walks us through the foyer and into the sitting room. “What can I get you to drink?”

  She has a decanter set on a table for guests and it makes me smile, because Tessa will appreciate the old world charm.

  “I’m good with whatever you have,” Tessa says, taking a seat on the loveseat.

  I sit down next to her and say, “She likes bourbon, Nana.”

  “Good, good.” Nana pours three bourbons and when we’re all settled in, sits down on the high-back chair across from us. “I must say this is a pleasant surprise. Although I will admit I hoped.”

  Surprise flashes across Tessa’s features, and I know why. She never says it, but I know she thinks she’s not pretty enough for me. I don’t see it that way at all. In fact, the more I know her, the prettier she becomes. I’d go as far to say she’s too pretty for me.

  She possesses all of the depth I lack.

  That I’ve always lacked and never wanted anyone to see. She keeps waiting for me to tell her she’s not good enough for me, but the truth is, I’m waiting for the same from her. For her to realize she deserves someone that will touch her romantic soul, and breathe in all of her bone-deep commitment and love.

  I clear my throat. “You hoped, huh?” I ask this question, not for myself, but for Tessa. So she can recognize in herself what others plainly see.

  Nana gives me a sideways glance, and nods. “Yes, I hoped. You’re exactly the kind of woman I’d hope for Xavier.”

  I experience a rush of heat across the back of my neck.

  Tessa laughs and waves her hand in the air. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “I can assure you it is.” Nana rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware of the women in his past, but they were never going to give him what he truly needs.”

  I want to move off this topic because it makes me wary and I’m not sure I want to he
ar the answer to why Nana believes that. I chuckle, feigning a casualness I don’t feel. “How about those Blackhawks?”

  Tessa smiles at me. “I think you’re embarrassing him.”

  “Indeed.” Nana chuckles and takes a sip of her drink. “But in any regards, I’m happy you’re here.”

  “Me too,” Tessa says. “Your house is lovely. I love historic buildings.”

  “My husband was big on preservation.”

  Tessa turns to me. “Is this where you grew up?”

  I nod. “For part of my childhood, after…” I trail off, not wanting to discuss my mother’s abandonment. A topic Tessa knows the bare minimum about.

  Tessa’s brow furrows, and she glances back at my grandmother. “It must have been very hard to lose your son when he was so young.”

  It sends a tiny shock wave through me, because it’s a subject most people avoid.

  My nana’s eyes brighten. “It was. The hardest thing I’ve ever endured in my life.”

  “I can’t imagine.” Tessa bites her lower lip. “A few years ago a boy in my class died suddenly and without warning. He was a sweet child, one of my favorites, I didn’t even know my heart could be that heavy. I can’t even fathom how it would be if it was your own.”

  “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.” Nana’s expression fills with that longing sadness she used to wear often back in the beginning, and it still slips over her features on occasion.

  “I’m sorry to bring up a painful subject,” Tessa says in her soft, soothing voice.

  Nana smiles. “Not at all. It’s funny, when you lose a child, no one ever brings them up. It becomes a taboo topic, never to be discussed. But what people don’t realize, or understand, is that while it saves you from the sadness, it deprives you of the opportunity to relive the good memories too.”

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t have thought of it that way.” Tessa sits forward, her expression intent and interested. “Would you like to tell me a good memory? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’d love to hear.”

  This is the way Tessa is. The way she invites people in and wraps them up in her warmth and makes them safe.