Searching for a Heart

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Searching for a Heart Page 11

by Tymber Dalton


  She rejoined him, and he realized she’d kicked her shoes off, too.

  “How do you want me, Sir?” she asked.

  He kissed her, taking control of it and forcing himself to slow it the hell down, drop a gear or push the clutch in and coast—anything.

  Because he felt like he was on a downhill switchback with an out-of-control truck full of dynamite.

  “Lady’s choice,” he finally managed.

  She stepped away from him and pulled the dress off, dropping it to the lanai and leaving her standing there in only her panties.

  He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it to the ground.

  She walked around to the stairs and turned away from him, sliding her panties down and off before stepping into the water and quickly sinking up to her neck turning to face him.

  He fumbled his belt, finally got his slacks and briefs down and off, and did a cannonball into the deep end, making her laughter echo off the water and sliding glass doors and concrete of the lanai deck.

  She swam out to him and he opened his arms to her, reaching for her, pulling her in for a long, deep kiss. If someone had told him this was how his evening would end tonight, he would have laughed in their faces.

  Insta-love wasn’t a thing. It was bullshit and romance books and wishful damn thinking. But the chemistry between them absolutely couldn’t be denied.

  Well, it could, but he didn’t fucking want to.

  Between them, Milo’s cock rubbed against her stomach and he groaned with need when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  Her fingers curled around his cock, gently squeezing and pulling a deep, needy moan from him. He slanted his lips over hers again, kissing her, swallowing her, wanting to become part of her soul, he ached so badly. All over. Inside and out.

  Desperate loneliness finally recognized and keening for someone to soothe him.

  He eased them into shallower water so his feet touched bottom as she slowly stroked his cock. Velvet heat gently stroked his dick as he kissed her, falling, helpless to say no, helpless to stop the landslide rushing at him and threatening to carry him away. Her hand expertly gripped him and he throbbed against her flesh, his body unused to someone else’s hand holding his cock but damned if it didn’t feel amazing.

  He had never been in love before, ever. Not if this was a hint of what it felt like. How sad that he’d thought he’d had love, had romance, and in a few short hours this beautiful woman had swept aside everything he’d known about the flat landscape of love and showed him it was, in fact, round.

  Infinite.

  He cupped one hand behind her neck to hold her in place and keep kissing her, the other kneaded her ass, holding her hips tight against his as she quickly stroked his cock toward an explosion. This would be the Krakatoa of Cum.

  Maybe it was a damn good thing they were in the pool.

  He pressed his forehead against hers, unable to keep his eyes open now. “Please, please, please,” he heard someone begging, and it was from his own lips.

  She whispered back to him.

  “Come for me, Sir.”

  White heat contracted at the base of his cock, his balls tightening before the rebound supernova slammed into him. She covered his lips with hers, swallowing his cries while her hand sped up, milking his cum from him, drawing his orgasm out, until he nearly collapsed under the weight of the knowledge that his universe had just experienced the mother of all Big Bangs.

  “Fucking hell, it never feels that good when I do it to myself.”

  He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until she giggled. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him.

  Waiting.

  He pulled her in for another kiss, slower and sweeter and not nearly as come-drunk as he hoped to be in about an hour after round two.

  Because there would be a round two.

  First, though, he wanted to hear her moan.

  “Your turn, baby,” he whispered against her lips as he eased them over toward the steps.

  And he realized that would forever be his pet name for her—cherished and treasured, and dammit, he’d just sworn weeks ago he’d never fucking get married again, and now he wanted to go do dumb shit, like pick out china patterns with her and beg her to let him spend the rest of his life trying not to embarrass her with how stupid happy she made him feel.

  “What’s the toy for?” he asked.

  Even in the dim light he saw her blush. “Plan B, in case we need it. Sometimes, a girl needs a little assist.”

  She had him sit midway up on the steps and she nestled against him, her back pressed against his chest. They hadn’t turned on any lights, but in the dim glow from the moon and stars and security lights a few houses over, there was just enough to see by. She draped her legs over his thighs, and he realized he could spread his legs and open her wider.

  A shiver rippled through her and she tipped her head back, her face pressed against his neck, her breath warm against his flesh.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  She placed her hands over his and started showing him how to map her body, cupping her breasts—at least those he knew what to do with—kneading them, rolling her nipples between his fingers and pulling adorable little squeaks and moans from her as he did.

  Only when she was squirming in his arms did she drift lower, tracing slow circles up and down her abs, along her thighs, lower. Between her legs, where she showed him where to rub, where to press, where to stroke and glide.

  At some point he’d started nibbling on the side of her neck, her throat open and exposed to him. He wanted to bite and suck, leave marks branding her as his now, but knew that might be pushing things a little fast.

  That could be date two.

  Or, maybe tomorrow morning, if he even made it home tonight. Right now, he was thinking falling asleep curled around her body was looking really damn good.

  Focus, idiot!

  * * * *

  Mads wasn’t sure if she’d get over like this tonight or need the assist. It’d been a couple of days since she’d masturbated, but she also felt nervous as hell. So far, Milo was effortlessly stitching her heart to his in a way she’d never thought possible before.

  Ever.

  He let her hands guide his, taking every nuance, every nudge, paying attention and not trying to take control.

  There’d be plenty of time for that, once he’d memorized the owner’s manual.

  For now, if they weren’t going to get stuck off in the weeds, she needed to be driving this car.

  He seemed to be a very fast learner, too, for which she was grateful. And when his lips closed over her neck and he raked his teeth along her flesh, it nearly tripped her over the edge then.

  Holy shit!

  She guided his hands up to her breasts again, loving the feel of his large, strong hands on her skin, the way the pads of his thumbs brushed over her nipples. Electricity surged from her nipples to her core, amping her desire to insane levels she could never remember feeling before.

  In his arms, she felt beautiful, cherished.

  Desired.

  “Like that?” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

  “Yes!”

  Need overrode trying to take things slow-ish. With her pulse pounding in her brain, she guided his hands down again, between her legs. Definitely a quick learner, he remembered what she’d shown him earlier and when she eased her grip on his hand and let him take the lead, he seemed to know exactly what she needed.

  As she tipped her head back onto his shoulder, his lips trailed up and down the side of her neck. He nibbled on her earlobe, his breath soft in her ear, a little ragged around the edges.

  Everything in her told her to let go, give in.

  To trust.

  She pressed her body against his, arching her back a little and loving the sweet contrast of the way the hair on his body felt slightly coarse against her flesh.

  Strong, tall, firm muscles—he was everything
she could have asked for and wanted if custom-building a boyfriend from scratch.

  And she got to teach him about being a Dom?

  Yes, please!

  It meant that, together, they could explore and find what would work for both of them, play with limits and techniques.

  He was willing to learn what she needed to take care of her. No macho bullshit with him. Quiet surety, yes, but that was even sexier when combined with his overall package.

  Milo’s literal package was nothing to sneeze at, either. Pressed against her lower back, she felt stirrings of interest from his cock, which was trying to reharden.

  Thank you, Universe!

  Passion and pleasure and time melded together and flowed around them like the warm water cradling their bodies. And when her body finally gave it up and tripped over the edge, her climax stronger than she could ever remember feeling before, she gasped, found her mouth covered by his and swallowing her cries as his hands worked with her, faster, harder, until she finally pressed and held him, stilling him for a moment before pulling his arms tightly around her.

  Her eyes fell closed and she lay there, afraid to move, afraid this spell would shatter, afraid the dream would end and she’d awaken alone in bed in Miami and wondering how to dodge creepy Holmes.

  Milo brought one hand up and cupped her cheek, holding her in place to kiss her again. “Yeah, we’re going to need to do that again,” he hoarsely said. “As in right now. I gotta hear you make those sounds again, baby.”

  She shivered against him, not cold, but needy, like a branch giving in front of the press of the wind, helpless against it. “We’ll need Plan B this soon.”

  “Then let’s break out Plan B, baby.” She opened her eyes and found his hunger burning there. “Because I want to give you every reason to keep saying yes to me and this.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Twenty minutes later, Plan B turned into her limply lying in his arms, shuddering with the echoes of her second orgasm in such a short amount of time turning her body to something with the stiffness of uncooked pizza dough.

  He pulled the toy from her, smiling as he figured out how to shut it off and he set it on the side. Then he gathered her in his arms and moved them into deeper water where he held her cradled against him.

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You’re hard again, Sir.” Even calling him that felt right, natural.

  “Mmm-hmm. Right now, I want to hold my baby and enjoy this moment.”

  She wasn’t even sure if Fen and Joel had come home yet. She honestly hadn’t been listening. If they had, they were giving them privacy.

  Fuck it. She’d used enough lube with the toy that it should be fine. And if he was a liar, then no number of people vetting him would protect her from him. She turned in his arms, reaching under him and pressing the head of his cock against her.

  He froze. “Baby—”

  “Shh. I want this.” She wrapped her legs around him and rocked herself onto his cock, loving it when his hands grabbed her ass and held on, fingers digging in.

  “Fuck, baby!” he gasped.

  “No, Sir. Fuck me.” She kissed him, a surge of desire rushing through her as he took over and fucked her.

  Okay, she hadn’t meant to end the evening getting fucked bareback in her bestie’s pool, but it wasn’t the worst way to end an evening.

  Not by a long-shot.

  The sweet, desperate moan that rolled from Milo when he exploded inside her would forever remain tattooed on her soul. He fell still, tightly holding her body against his.

  “Please stay the night,” she whispered.

  His grip on her tightened, felt like maybe forever.

  Maybe.

  She hoped.

  “Yes, baby,” he said. “I’ll stay the night.”

  He literally carried her out of the pool, and it was absolutely the most romantic thing she’d ever felt in her life. He carefully set her on her feet and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her before he took the other one and dried off, draping it around his hips. Then he gathered their clothes while she washed the toy off in the pool, and they snuck inside like a couple of teenagers trying not to get caught.

  That’s what she felt like, anyway.

  She didn’t turn the light on until after her bedroom door was securely locked behind them. Then she flipped the switch that turned on the lamp by her bed.

  In the dim light, their gazes met and he leaned in for another kiss. “I think we talked about taking this slow.”

  She giggled. “We did.”

  “That was slow?”

  “I’d say we could try glacial, but that’d be a miserable damn week.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want to fuck this up. Please, don’t let me fuck this up.”

  “I can forgive a lot of things as long as you don’t lie to me or cheat on me. I don’t expect you to be an expert in all things Mads the first night. Just be…you.”

  They finished drying off and curled up together in her queen-sized bed, stretched at an angle so his feet didn’t hang off the end.

  Curled in his arms, she realized even if this ended tomorrow, it’d still been the best night of her damned life.

  Now if they could just keep having this kind of perfection, life would be…

  Amazing.

  * * * *

  “Well? What do you think?”

  Milo had been dubious at first, but damned if he wasn’t going to yes-dear Mads anytime he could.

  Including letting her put dark blue paint on one wall of his living room, and using a much lighter shade on the other walls.

  The wall in question was the one where his TV was mounted, and where he wanted to install wall-mounted shelves to hold the books that were now homeless and stacked in his spare bedroom.

  Now he could see what she meant, though.

  “You’re right. The black shelves will look perfect with that color.”

  She smiled up at him. She was wearing one of his old T-shirts over her shorts, because he didn’t want her getting paint all over the adorable tank-top she’d put on that morning.

  Late morning.

  Okay, one-thirty, when they’d finally emerged from her bedroom after Fen played dirty and ran the coffee grinder for about five minutes solid.

  That was after they’d spent the morning making love and Mads showed him more fun ways to make her make those perfect little squeals and moans.

  And after she’d gone down on him, and swallowed a load of his cum and showed him yet another thing he’d apparently been missing out on.

  Not only could Maddison suck a cock, she seemed to have fun doing it, enjoyed it, wanted to do it.

  Unlike Milo’s ex, who could barely be bothered to touch his cock.

  Besides, Linda had been too busy fucking everyone but him to pay attention to his cock.

  Now it was nearly six o’clock Sunday night. They’d skipped moving the furniture today, because they went to his house first, where Mads looked at the walls, immediately declared he’d gone the wrong way in trying to stay light with color, followed by a trip to the home improvement store, and back—where she had managed to perfectly achieve the effect he hadn’t known he’d needed.

  But damned if it wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted in the first place.

  His gaze returned to her, to her sweet blue eyes, how happy she looked staring at a damn wall, of all things.

  That’s when the wheels almost fell off.

  “Move in with me,” he heard someone who sounded like him saying.

  Yeah, he heard the record screech.

  She looked up at him. “What?”

  He wasn’t sure he had the balls to say it again, but he licked his lips and forced it out. “Move in with me.”

  She stared at him so long and hard he could almost hear the paint drying on the walls.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  Fuck it, how could he make things worse?


  “Because I’m scared I’m going to do something stupid, and you’ll see what a dumbass I am, and you’ll find a better guy than me, younger than me, not stupid like me.”

  She stared at him another forever or so. “Three weeks,” she softly said.

  “Wait…what?”

  “Three weeks. I come over, we spend nights together. We move my furniture in from the garage, because, damn, we need a fucking couch.”

  Then she smiled and met his gaze again, and his fear vanished like smoke in a stiff breeze. “Three weeks,” she softly repeated. She nodded for emphasis.

  “Why three weeks?”

  “Because that’s when my parents leave for their cruise with my sister and her husband. That’ll give us at least two weeks of not being bothered every damn day by them wanting to come check on me. Meaning another two weeks for us, while they’re gone, to make sure we haven’t screwed up. Then Fen and Joel can help me move the rest of my stuff over.”

  “That’s…so that’s a yes?”

  “Yes, Sir. That’s a yes.”

  “Yes! YES!” He picked her up and swung her around, thinking maybe he’d gone crazy, maybe he’d died and this was heaven, or maybe he was in a coma in a hospital or something.

  He didn’t fucking care.

  She laughed. “Just one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  She smiled. “You have to tell Fen and Joel, Sir.”

  * * * *

  Well, he didn’t die.

  When he drove them back to Joel and Fen’s house later that evening, he imagined a lot of possible reactions from the men.

  He didn’t expect to immediately receive hugs and congratulations without a single objection.

  “Okay, why aren’t you killing me?” he asked as Fen hugged him.

  “Because I talked to Eliza a couple of hours ago,” Fen said. “She told me if she was wrong about you that she’d personally come kill you herself. Now, I don’t know about you, but she terrifies the fuck out of me. So…” He shrugged, then grinned. “And, damn, y’all are loud,” he teased.

  Mads’ face turned dark red. “Oh, my god, Fen!”

  He giggled. “Love you, bestie. Did you tell him we’re into pole dancing?”

 

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