by Kendall Ryan
He shrugged. “Not at all. I just want to know, in your professional opinion, that one day when I find the right girl and unleash all this on her, there won’t be any disappointments.”
His choice of wording was spot on. Unleash was right. Cannon was a force to be reckoned with. He could have his pick of any woman he wanted, but that wasn’t what he was asking. He was obviously trying to get a rise out of me.
“I’m sure you’d make a shit boyfriend,” I said around a mouthful of pad Thai.
“Hey, I take offense to that.”
I gave him a knowing smirk.
“I’d be the kind of boyfriend who held your hair back while you blew me.” His voice was sincere, but his words were crude.
“How darling of you.”
Reaching out toward me, Cannon pinched my waist, tickling me.
“Hey!” I scooted farther away.
“So you really can’t think of any redeeming qualities that might interest the fairer sex?” he asked.
I no longer knew if we were playing around or if he really wanted to know how I felt about him. Since I couldn’t admit that yet, not even to myself, I stuck with playful, rolling my eyes.
“As if Allie would let you date.”
“Allie has no say in this. Assuming I did want a relationship.”
My world tipped sideways. “I’m not ready to have this conversation,” I said, my voice shaking.
Cannon watched me for several heavy heartbeats, and I thought he was going to press me to answer. But he didn’t.
I stood to clear our dishes and take a minute to just breathe in the privacy of my kitchen. When I returned to the living room, Cannon was holding Enchilada up, and was taking pictures.
“Did you just take a selfie with my dog?” I was a sucker for a man who was sweet to my dog.
“Maybe. Is that a problem?” He grinned at me, and just like that, our playful mood from earlier was back.
Chapter Eighteen
Cannon
I’d rather be at the gym right now, pumping out some of my sexual frustrations, but instead I’d come to check on my mother.
“Mom, are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I stood staring at the built-in cabinet my mom was currently painting royal purple. Her living room was a clash of colors, like a rainbow had taken a shit in there. I didn’t know how her husband, Bob, put up with it, but God bless him, he did. He nodded and smiled at all of Mom’s crazy ideas, shaking his head and agreeing that it seemed like a great plan.
Bob was ten years older than my mom, and after my dad left, I was sure my mother would never love again. And then she met Bob, the owner of the auto shop where she took her car for repairs. He had been divorced for many years, and had no kids. Mom seemed to fill the void in his life, just as he did hers.
“I love purple; of course it’s a good idea. Everyone deserves to be happy in their living space, Cannon.”
My gaze drifted from hers to the front window and the cloudless sky beyond. My living space was currently Paige’s living space. The close quarters meant I was getting to know my childhood crush in ways I’d never imagined. I knew what she tasted like, how she moaned when I kissed her neck, and that she preferred almond milk in her coffee. I knew that before I came around, the most affection she got was from cuddling with her little dog. I knew she was a loyal, lifelong friend to my sister, and that she was totally off-limits.
It had been a week since we’d slept together. Five days since I’d diagnosed her with an allergy to latex. That evening we’d hung out in the living room, sharing takeout from paper cartons and reminiscing about long-forgotten childhood memories, laughing at the ridiculous reality-TV dating show that played in the background.
Thankfully, she wasn’t mad at me for her predicament. Not that it was truly my fault. I’d tried to keep us safe by using a condom, and I certainly never intended her harm.
My mom crossed the room toward where I stood, wiping her hands on her coveralls as she approached. “I love you, Cannon-ball.” She lifted on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek.
“Love you too, Mom.”
It might not look like much from an outside perspective, but even me stopping by for fifteen minutes to check on her meant a lot. Bob worked long hours as a business owner, and I knew Mom got lonely. She and I had always shared a special connection. Despite my humble upbringing and the struggles we’d been through, she never stopped pushing me, never stopped believing that I could be more. Somewhere along the way, I began to believe it. I owed her everything.
Checking my watch, I saw my lunch break was almost over. “I have to get back to the hospital.”
She nodded, then patted my shoulder. “Come by for dinner on Sunday. I’ll make your favorite.”
I didn’t have it in me to tell her that meat loaf hadn’t been my favorite since I was twelve, or that her version was like a heart attack waiting to happen. I simply nodded.
“See you then.”
Shrugging into my jacket, I headed out of the tidy and eccentric brick one-story she shared with Bob, and into the crisp autumn air.
Chapter Nineteen
Paige
I should have felt embarrassed being around Cannon now. He’d seen me at my worst, and while it had sucked, he’d handled it so professionally that I barely gave it a second thought. And he’d been right. Once I got on the medication, things cleared up quickly, and I was now as good as new.
Cannon had been so sweet and attentive all week long that I almost didn’t want to burst his illusion that I was still under the weather. We hadn’t spoken of it, which was fine by me. I didn’t think there was a non-awkward way to say, “My vagina’s all better now.” So it was best to not say anything at all.
We’d eaten dinner together every night, each of us taking turns at the cooking, and he cleaned up the kitchen while I walked Enchilada. We fell into an easy rhythm, watching TV together at night until bedtime, when we hugged and went our separate ways.
But tonight, I wasn’t tired. It was half past ten when we’d gone to bed, and I’d been lying here awake for an hour. I knew a cup of warm milk would help me sleep, but I didn’t want milk. I wanted Cannon. Wanted to feel the way only he could make me feel.
Emboldened, I rose from my bed and tiptoed down the hall. Enchilada followed me.
Cannon was obviously asleep under the blankets, lying on his side. His breathing was deep and even. I lifted the blanket, crawling in behind him.
“Paige?” he asked, his deep voice laced with sleep. He rolled to his back and looked at me.
“I had a bad dream.” It was a lie. I was horny. And I was hoping he was too.
He opened his arms and I nestled in beside him, laying my head on his chest and hooking one leg over his waist. His heart beat steady and loud under my ear, and his male scent surrounded me.
Cannon released a heavy sigh, petting my hair back from my face. “I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”
“Thank you,” I whispered into the darkness.
I let one hand wander beneath the blankets to rest on his stomach, and felt his abs tense under my touch. With my own heart thumping wildly, blood thundered in my ears. I knew what I wanted, knew I needed to make the first move, but the fear of rejection was a big and real thing. Cannon could say no, and if he did, I would be crushed. And not just because I was horny, but because I craved the kind of physical intimacy we’d shared last weekend.
Drawing a deep breath to steady my nerves, I let my hand drift lower. I could feel the waistband of his shorts, and my fingers slipped beneath it before pausing. Cannon’s lungs expanded under my head, and a strained breath pushed past his lips. Neither of us said a word, and my fingers dipped lower until I found his cock, which was already at half-mast.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Only if you want me too.”
“I’d have to be fucking insane not to want you. You’re perfect, prince
ss.”
“Good, then we’re in agreement.” I crawled on top of him, straddling him, and watched his lips form into a smile.
“And you’re feeling better?” he asked with a grunt when my soft center made contact with his cock, which was now firm.
“One hundred percent.”
I rocked my hips over the firm ridge in his shorts, swallowing a groan. This earned another mouthwatering grunt from him, and his hands found my waist.
“Christ, Paige.”
His hands moved under my T-shirt, palming the weight of my breasts. His face was a mask of concentration in the darkness, and I felt bold and wicked and oh-so-tempting. I pulled my T-shirt off over my head, tossing it beside the bed, and watched as his gaze dropped to my breasts as if they’d been pulled by a magnet.
He fondled and caressed and squeezed while I writhed on top of him. I didn’t even need foreplay tonight. I’d come in here ready, but of course Cannon didn’t know that. And even if he suspected it, he wasn’t going to skimp on treating me right.
I worked my hips over his erection, the warm friction dizzying at how good it felt.
Cannon rose up on his elbows to take one of my breasts in his mouth, pulling a cry from my lips.
“What about protection? I’m not putting on another condom,” he murmured against my throat between kisses.
The thought of having him bare, all eight of those thick, delicious inches throbbing inside me with no barrier between us, had me clenching.
“I’m safe. On the pill,” I managed between ragged breaths.
“I think you just became my dream woman. I’ve never done that before.”
Seriously? He’d never done it without a condom? I guessed it made sense. The ultra-responsible Cannon had always made safe choices. I was happy to be his first in that regard.
Unable to wait even a second longer, I rose up on my knees, just enough to tug my flimsy lace panties to the side. Cannon followed suit, pushing the pair of athletic shorts he wore down low on his hips. His big, gorgeous cock sprang free. I knew calling a cock gorgeous was weird, but his really was. Veined and heavy, and shiny at the tip.
I took him in my hand, guiding him as I lowered my hips.
“You sure about this, Paige?” He groaned as the broad head of him met my slick flesh.
“Very.” I lowered myself another inch.
“Then ride that big dick, princess.”
Lowering myself all the way, I parted my lips in a silent moan. He’d filled me to the brim and then some. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. The most intense feeling washed through me, and I’d never felt more connected to another person before. I might not have fallen in love with Cannon after the first time we had sex, but real feelings were developing, and the tight feeling inside my chest when his dark emerald-colored eyes latched onto mine wasn’t something I could explain.
He didn’t wait for me to begin; he simply planted his hands on my hips and began lifting and lowering me, pumping into me like I was his sex toy. Watching his biceps flex in the moonlight, seeing the sheen of sweat dotting his forehead, his tensed abs, all of it was so erotic. The feel of him inside me was mind blowing. Every hard ridge of him was stroking me in all the right places, and within minutes our pace had me speeding toward release.
“Cannon, wait.” I planted one hand firmly on his abs. I wanted this to last, didn’t want it to end.
“Let it happen. Want to watch you come.” He groaned, the sound tortured, broken.
There was no stopping it anyway. My climax ripped through me like a bomb had detonated inside my womb, my muscles clenching and spasming all at once in a cacophony of well-orchestrated bliss. Blinding light flashed before my eyes . . . so intense, a second there I thought I might black out.
“Just like that, baby.” Cannon’s fingertips pressed into my skin, slowing my movements, making me feel every-fucking-thing.
It was heaven.
“Fuck,” Cannon cursed under his breath. “You’re squeezing me so tight. Not going to last . . .”
His grip on my hips tightened and his thrusts deepened.
I watched him like a fan watches a live performance—entranced and enthralled, unable to look away, even for a second. He was beauty.
“If you don’t want me to come inside you, better climb off now, princess,” he bit out.
I wasn’t going anywhere. Placing both palms flat against his stomach, I rocked my hips back and forth, my ass bouncing on him hard and fast. Everything about this moment would be branded into my brain forever. The tick in his jaw; the deep, hoarse tone of his voice; the way he felt moving inside me.
He continued pumping into me as long, lazy spurts erupted from him like hot lava, marking me from the inside out.
When Cannon came, it wasn’t with a shout or a moan, yet I would never forget the sound he made when he climaxed. His breath pushed past his lips in the softest, most satisfied exhale you could possibly imagine. So controlled, so masculine. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. His release seemed to go on forever as hot jets of semen pumped into me.
“Jesus, princess.” He lifted me off of him, pressing one soft kiss to my lips. He was still breathing hard, and so was I.
After I used the restroom—because, holy heck, condom-free sex was messy—I crawled back in beside him. Cannon buried his face against my neck, making me smile. We lay together for several minutes perfectly spooned, my back against his front. I ran my fingers over any skin I could find—down his thick forearm, along his large, lightly calloused hand, hands that would one day save lives. I couldn’t believe how natural and comfortable I felt in his arms.
Cannon shifted and released a sigh. “This should probably be the last time, you know, just so things don’t get blurry between us. You’re my sister’s friend. We can’t possibly keep this up without getting discovered.” His hand smoothed my hair back from my face. “And I would hate to complicate things between you and Allie.”
I stilled, my heart thudding dully. I thought we were going to cuddle and drift off to sleep together. How wrong I’d been.
“Right. Of course.” I wiped a stray tear away with the back of my hand, my throat tightening. His words made sense; of course they did. But in that moment, he was the realest, best, brightest thing in my world, and I hated that we would never be more.
But what had I expected? He’d told me from the onset we could never have anything beyond a one-night stand, and I’d agreed to it. Hell, I’d even been the aggressor, the one to coax him into it, wanting to prove to him that he could have an easy, casual relationship with a woman without her falling in love with him.
I wasn’t even willing to think about the L-word, let alone speak it out loud. Cannon and I had lived together a couple of weeks, had sex a total of three times. People didn’t fall in love that quickly, did they?
I rose from his bed, fixing my face in a neutral smile. “Good night.”
His gaze lingered on my bare breasts, and for a moment I thought he might invite me back to bed, maybe for another round, or perhaps just to sleep beside him. Instead he groaned, his gaze jumping up to mine at long last.
“Night, princess.”
I thought he might make some sultry remark like, “You better go before I change my mind.” Or put his hand between my legs to coax me into a repeat. But he didn’t. He tugged up the blankets around him and lay back against his pillows, a satisfied smile on his full lips.
I gulped in a deep inhale and grabbed my discarded clothes from the floor before making my way back to my own room. After pulling on my T-shirt, I collapsed onto my bed.
If only he weren’t so brutally perfect—masculine, funny, intelligent, great at making fajitas, amazing in bed . . . the list went on. But most of all, he was right. He was right that we couldn’t pursue a relationship. His sister would be dead set against us being together, and no man was worth sacrificing my oldest friendship. Not to mention the fact that us
dating was totally unrealistic—he would be moving away soon, taking a residency at a hospital who-knows-where. I was certain he didn’t want his sister’s friend following him across the country merely because I’d gotten a taste of his cock and went all lovesick on him, just like he said I would. No, I had to be stronger than that.
And yet . . .
When he was away, I thought of nothing but him. And when he was home? My focus was unwillingly glued to him, tracking his movements through the house. Listening for any sounds from his room.
I had almost memorized the soft bluesy playlist he favored on his laptop, knew that his showers lasted exactly six minutes. I anticipated his routine like one of Pavlov’s drooling dogs anticipated the sound of that bell. On days he wasn’t working, he rose early and went to the gym, then he came home, showered, studied, and made something to eat. Sometimes he paid a visit to his mom or sister, and he liked to watch the evening news, occasionally with a glass of red wine. I learned he was interested in American politics and followed the stock market closely. I knew he was stressed over choosing his specialty and applying to residency programs.
I knew all these things, and yet, I didn’t know the most important thing of all—how he felt about me. I yearned to know where we stood. Did our sleeping together mean as much to him as it did to me?
I curled into a ball under the blankets, my eyes open and staring blankly into the darkness.
• • •
“There’s not something going on with you and Cannon, is there?” Allie asked, appraising me across the table.
We were enjoying a late breakfast at one of our favorite local spots. And while I might have been a little on edge around Allie, knowing that I was hiding something so major from her, I never thought in a million years she’d call me out on it.
Determined to act casual, I took a sip of my coffee. Inside, my heart was rioting. “No. Why?”
“Because if there was, I’d have to disown you both.” Allie took a bite of her breakfast taco while I waited desperately for her to continue. “You know better than anyone how strongly I feel about my brother sticking to the path to success he’s on,” she said, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “We came from nothing, Paige. Nothing. And now he’s going to be a doctor.”
