Through the haze of overwhelming sensation, the suction on my nipple sending a burst of tingling arousal to my core, I fought the urge to move R.D.’s hand where I needed it. Between my legs. I rocked my hips in invitation, desperate for his touch.
He did not respond.
I tried to angle my body to press my clit against any available part of his body.
He made it impossible.
“R.D.!”
He broke suction long enough to say, “Relax and enjoy the journey,” before moving on to my other breast.
I ran my fingers through the thick, longer hair at the top of his head, moving to clamp my hands just above his ears in an attempt to pull him higher, to line up our mouths and hips.
My man would not be moved.
My man.
At the thought, my heart did a little flip.
My man wanted to take me on a journey toward orgasm? I could give him a few more enjoyable minutes. Relaxing, I dropped my hands, allowing myself to do nothing more than feel the heat of his mouth followed by the glide of his tongue, the wet path turning cool on my exposed skin as he moved to a new location. I listened to the ravenous sounds of him feasting at my breast like a desperate man who’d been deprived for too long. I reveled in his strength when his hands clamped on the sides of my rib cage, holding me where he wanted me.
Moving south, that talented tongue swirling around my belly button, traveling lower still. So close. He slid down the seam of my sex and I could no longer remain quiet. “Yes. There.” Setting my feet on the bed, I rocked against his mouth with abandon, my pleasure building, my body on the verge of release.
His mouth vanished.
“Nooooooo!”
His wet lips landed on my inner thigh, the start of slow, gentle, teasing kisses down one leg then up the other, his coarse beard leaving a tingling trail. At the sensitive skin just inside of my hip bone, he sucked hard. “Later, I want you to look at this mark.” He sucked, deeply, again. “And think of me.”
His brand. For my eyes only. Off the charts hot. “I will.”
Without warning, he grabbed me behind the knees, lifting my feet off the bed, pushing my legs up and back to the point my knees hit my shoulders and my butt lifted off of the bed, spreading me wide open, making it impossible to move.
When his mouth landed on my clit, I didn’t want to move. I’d been reduced to a panting, moaning shell of myself. “So good. Oh, yeah. Right there. Best ever.”
Then it got even better.
“Hold your legs for me.”
I grabbed the backs of my knees and did as instructed.
Which freed his finger to dip inside of me. It swirled around and left, reappearing lower.
I immediately stiffened.
“You take it here?” he asked, his slippery digit pressing lightly where no man had gone before.
I told him the truth. “I would for you.” At that moment, I would do anything he asked.
“Lord help me, you’re perfect.” He lunged for my bedside table reaching in for a condom.
I let my legs fall down and open so I could watch. His competence. His confidence.
Sitting back on his heels, he rolled it on his impressive length, slowly, watching me watch him. “You ready for me?”
Oh yeah. So ready. But, wow. Size had never been a concern for me before. “Uh, go slow, okay?”
He settled his weight on top of me, his bearded mouth at my ear. “I’ve got you, baby.” He reached down, guiding himself in.
I relaxed, realizing I trusted this gruff yet gentle man completely.
He moved slowly, carefully, inching forward a little at a time, even though I could tell it cost him, his back rigid, his breathing strained. “You…doing…okay?”
The stretch burned a little at first, but, “Yeah.” I wiggled and crossed my legs behind his butt, trying my best to accommodate him.
When he did it, when he’d worked all of himself inside of me, he went still, letting out a deep breath against my ear. “Damn, that’s good.”
“It will feel even better when you move.”
He did, the tiniest bit. A bit more. Pulled almost all the way out then pushed back in. “Still okay?”
“Better than okay,” I told him, pulling back when he did, pushing forward to meet him.
“Let me know if it’s too much.” He started to move with purpose, pulling all the way out and thrusting back in. Over and over. Faster. Harder. He groaned. “Too good.” He reached between us, got his fingers working.
I rocked against him, needing more. “Kiss me.”
He did, deeply, his hips coming to a stop as he focused on my mouth, thrusting his tongue. “Love your mouth.” He went at it again.
“I need more,” I cried out.
“Know what you need.” He pulled his dick out of me then rammed it back in, repeatedly, his movements becoming as desperate as mine.
“Yes.” I pumped my hips.
He pounded into me.
“Don’t stop!”
He didn’t stop.
My orgasm slammed into me in a wave of pleasure I rode to paradise, savoring every single second. Feeling suspended on a cloud of delight, high above the earth, R.D.’s grunt of completion came as a distant disruption to my tranquility.
Late Sunday morning I woke up again, this time with my back pressed against R.D.’s equally naked front, his left hand cupping my breast, his morning wood wedged between my legs. I didn’t move, wanted to enjoy our closeness for as long as possible.
He kissed the back of my head, giving me a gravelly, “Morning.” I liked that he didn’t move either.
Then he did. A tiny thrust, pushing his erection deeper between my thighs.
“Not going to tell me to ignore it?” I teased.
Both of his arms now wrapped around me, he shifted his hips, settling the head of his engorged dick just below my entrance. “Want you so bad.”
I wanted him, too. Twice was not nearly enough. Well, three times, if you counted me going down on him in the shower before we’d both passed out, exhausted. “Then have me.”
He let out a frustrated breath. “Don’t want to move.”
I arched my back, taking the tip inside. “I’m happy to do all the work.”
His body went stiff. “Condom.”
I rolled my hips. “I’ve got an IUD.” The perfect birth control for me. Stayed in for years, no having to remember a pill every day or a shot however often you needed a shot. “I got tested after D— He who shall not be named when we’re in bed together.”
He gave me a squeeze. “Wiseass.”
I enjoyed teasing him. “You said you haven’t been with—”
He pushed in, slowly, with a, “Fuuuuuk, that’s good,” followed by a deep-throated groan and a full-body shudder. He held me tight, as if I might float away if he let me go, not allowing me to move. However, I was not a woman who could easily be controlled. To teach him that very important lesson, I squeezed down on him using my internal muscles and with another groan, he started to move. Small, leisurely movements gradually turned into deep, plunging thrusts followed by relaxed retreats. Deliberate. Unhurried. Like he could keep going all day long.
Yes, please!
“You’re so wet.” His deep, gravelly voice and hot breath at my ear made the side of my face tingle. “Feels incredible.” He kept up a slow glide. “Indescribable.”
Indescribable. I loved that description!
A hand moved to my breast, squeezed my flesh then teased my nipple into a hard peak sending pure, potent pleasure straight to my core. Needing more, I tried to shift my hips so I could open my legs as I reached for my clit.
“I got you,” he said, pulling out long enough to push me onto my stomach, spread my legs wide, then push back inside. His hand slid beneath me, started to play, driving me wild.
“Faster.” I jerked my hips, twisted, seeking, “More. Please.”
At my words, Mr. In-No-Hurry transformed into a sex machine, pounding into me from behind. “Gonna be over way too soon.” He kissed my ear and palmed my breast. “Make it up to you. Any way you want it.” He grunted his exertion and I reveled in the sound of it, the urgency of his need. For me.
He was correct. It was over way too soon.
And, over the next hour or so, he did, in fact, make it up to me.
During brunch, I told R.D. the great news I’d received while he’d been in the shower. “Sam over at the Crystal Persuasion sold one of the river coffee tables I use to display some of my consignment pieces in his shop.”
“The Crystal what?”
“The Crystal Persuasion shop. It occupies the first floor of a big, old house his family owns in town. Sam mostly sells rocks and crystals. But he’s really sweet and agreed to put some of my work on display.”
“I like him already.”
“He’s also got a few healing rooms in the back for reiki, hot stone massages and that sort of thing. You should talk to him about your leg. Maybe he can help. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner.”
From the look on his face, R.D. had no intention of trying reiki or stone massages or anything else Sam had to offer. His decision.
“In even better news, he wants another coffee table for his shop, and he took an order for a second one from a relative of the woman who made the purchase!”
“That’s great!” R.D. walked over and gave me a great big hug. “We should celebrate.”
“Yes!” I loved that idea. And I loved being with a guy who wanted to celebrate my accomplishments rather than diminish them. “Perfect. We’re off tonight. I’ll make us a nice dinner.”
“Let me take you out.”
The invite reminded me about the second thing I needed to talk to him about. The niggling apprehension that sprung to mind during my morning shower, while R.D. had been out walking Tulip. “About that.”
R.D. went on guard.
“Come sit.” I walked to the couch and he followed. “I’ve given it a lot of thought, and you want me to be truthful? Here it is.” I hesitated. Worried.
“If you’ve changed your mind about us, just say it,” R.D. said.
“What? No! I haven’t changed my mind.”
His body relaxed.
“I just think…I want…” I looked into his eyes. “I’d like to keep what’s between us private.”
“You don’t want anyone to know we’re together.” A statement, not a question.
“You can tell Griff, and he’ll tell Audrey. Of course, I’ll tell Katie. If we could ask them to keep it quiet.” I picked a string off of my yoga pants. Then I shared one of the reasons I wanted to keep the two of us together private. “I’d prefer if people didn’t know I’ve taken another roommate into my bed. Especially so soon after Dorian.” I quickly added, “The circumstances are completely different this time. I am with you because I want to be, not because you’re convenient or because I need my ego stroked after a breakup or to keep you around. But people talk, you know?” I looked down into my lap, waiting for him to get angry, to storm off.
The touch to my chin came as a surprise as he gently turned me to face him. “I get it.”
The relief I felt, overwhelming in its intensity, almost had me tearing up. “Thank you.”
He leaned in to place a tender kiss on my lips. “Dinner in, then?”
“Yes. I’ll take care of everything.” He loved his steaks. A classic Caesar salad with homemade dressing. Scalloped potatoes, from a box but darn tasty. Wine. Oh—scratch the wine. Maybe sparkling apple cider. Candles. My mocha fudge brownies for dessert. The best dinner in he’d ever had.
I’d have to run to the store. Which I could do after I got some work done in my shop.
The smell of meat cooking on the barbeque caught my attention. A glance out the window alerted me to the fact that while I’d been packaging up finished orders and logging in new ones, planning my projects for the next few days and inventorying/ordering the supplies I’d need to complete them, and evaluating the available wood I had to identify pieces suitable for the two resin coffee tables I couldn’t wait to get started on, afternoon had turned to evening.
I grabbed my phone to check the time. “Oh, no.” I stood so fast, the stool I’d been sitting on rolled into one of my wooden shelves with a loud bang before falling to its side on the concrete floor. I ran to the door, jerked it open and flew into the backyard. “I am so sorry.”
I went straight to the barbeque, where R.D. stood grilling two steaks that I knew did not come from my refrigerator or freezer.
I’d done it again. Got too involved in my shop. Didn’t do what I’d planned to do. I reached for the tongs. “I’ll finish up here. You go inside and chill. Grab a drink. Find a sport thing on TV.” Dinner would be late but I’d get it done.
“Relax,” R.D. said. “The steaks need about three more minutes and dinner’s done.”
Done?
“I’m sorry.” I felt my eyes fill. “It’s probably good that you’re leaving at some point because I make a terrible girlfriend.” I remembered one of Dorian’s horrible texts. She doesn’t know how to take care of a man. Rarely cooks, forgets to go to the store. “Not that I’m your girlfriend.” Who’d want me? A stuttering sniffle happened.
“Hey,” R.D. said, pulling me into a hug. “What’s this all about?”
“You do so many things for me.” Sniffle, sniffle. “I wanted to make you a nice meal to show how much I appreciate you.”
“You’ve been stressed about all the work you need to get done for your Etsy business.” He kissed my forehead. So sweet. So gentle. “You’ve been working out here for hours while Tulip and I lounged around on the couch. It would have been selfish for me to still expect you to fix dinner, when I wasn’t doing anything important and I’m perfectly capable of running to the store and cooking.” He returned to the grill to flip the steaks. “If you’d go check on the potatoes and the broccoli, that’d be a help. Maybe set the table?”
I wrapped my arms around him in a fierce hug. “Thank you for understanding. I’m…”
“You’re perfect just the way you are. You’re passionate about your resin art. You’re working at Speakeasy and running a small business on your own. Take it easy on yourself.”
I went up on my tiptoes and he bent to meet me for a kiss.
“Now get.” He gave my butt cheek a hard squeeze. As I jogged to the back door, he called after me, “You’re in charge of dessert.”
It would be the best dessert he ever had.
Of course, dinner was delicious. The steaks were barbequed to an exact medium rare. The potato cubes were brushed with garlic and oil and perfectly salted. The broccoli, not my favorite vegetable, was baked in melty cheese topped with breadcrumbs. “Where did you learn to cook so well?”
“Mom worked two jobs.” He poured more steak sauce onto his plate. “Took on the second one to pay for my football. Equipment. Training. Clinics. We didn’t have money for takeout, so I helped with the cooking.” He slid me a look. “I could only serve her franks and beans so often.” He loaded broccoli onto his fork. “Looking up some recipes, watching a couple of videos, was the least I could do, with all she did for me.”
“My mom didn’t spend much time in the kitchen.” I poked a potato with my fork. “She had a few signature dishes she made on special occasions. Luckily, she mostly worked in restaurant bars, where she got us both one good meal a day. At least on days she worked. Other times we pieced it together. Speakeasy opening a gastropub is one of the best things to happen to me this year,” I teased. “Bonus points that Phoebe and Belle are such talented, generous chefs.”
R.D. watched me.
“What?”
“She’d like you.”
“Who?”
“Talking about her got me thinking about her. My mom would have liked you.”
A laugh shot out of me, not the funny kind. “She would not.” Most of the guys I dated never bothered introducing me to their moms. For a variety of reasons. My guess, because their moms wouldn’t think I was good enough for their precious sons.
“She’d want me to be with someone who stands up to me, which you do.” He looked up at the television, which wasn’t turned on. “She’d want me with someone who makes me happy.”
Awwww! “I make you happy?”
A slight head tilt was his only response. Needing clarification that I’d heard correctly, or maybe validation, I asked, “Care to elaborate on that?”
“Nope.”
“Come on. Help a girl out. I’m kind of convinced I’m not girlfriend material. Not that I’m your girlfriend or anything,” I quickly added.
“Lily,” he said seriously. “That’s the second time you’ve pointed that out. Would you want to be my girlfriend? For as long as I’m here?”
Needing to tread carefully, I asked, “Your secret girlfriend?”
“Sure. My secret girlfriend.”
“Yes,” I replied simply, not wanting my true joy to show. “I’d like that.”
“Good.”
“Now back to how I make you happy.” I could not let that go.
He let out an aggrieved breath. “It makes me happy when your voice fills the quiet and I don’t have to feel obligated to participate in a conversation because you do all the talking.”
I gave his arm a little smack. “I do not do all the talking.” I totally did.
“Agree to disagree.” He ate some potato.
I waited patiently for him to chew and swallow before prompting, “Aaaaand…”
He grew introspective. “You’re thoughtful. You don’t go out much, but when you do, you always come back with a little something that lets me know you were thinking about me. Like the unscented man lotion when you thought my hands looked dry, or the muffin of the day from The Busy Bean. You always offer to throw my clothes in with yours when you do laundry.”
“Man, you’re easy.”
He took my hand between his and, looking down at them said, “I like living in this house with you. Doing things around here gives me purpose.” His eyes met mine. “You’re pretty to look at, your scent makes me wild, and your taste is my new favorite flavor.” He pulled me onto his lap and gave me a big, wet kiss. “Ergo, you make me happy.”
Wow. For a man who didn’t talk much, what he did say made an impact.
“You almost done eating?” I asked, standing with my half-full plate. “I’m ready for dessert.” In the dark. “We need to go out for what I have in mind.”
He looked down at the food left on his plate.
“You finish up,” I told him. “I’m going to get changed.”
“We need to get changed for dessert?”
For what I had planned, yes. “You look fine.” The elastic waistband on his workout pants would provide easy access. “I’m all messy from the shop. I’ll meet you out at the van in five minutes. Don’t clean the kitchen.” I pointed a finger at him in warning. “I’ll do it when we get back.”
Five minutes later, I met him on the driveway at the driver’s side door of my van. I’d purposely left off the light above the garage. “I’ll drive.”
In the darkness, I couldn’t see his reaction. Even though he’d taken over the task of driving the van whenever we went anywhere together, without comment, he walked to the passenger side. After he got himself situated, he asked, “Where we headed?”
“To Texas.” I climbed over, onto his lap, straddling his thighs. “For a little cowgirl on boy action.”
He cupped my butt, pushing down while he lifted his hips. “My favorite kind of dessert.” He moved his hands below the short hem of the knit skirt I’d chosen for this exact moment. To my bare skin. “Shit.” He squeezed a cheek in each hand, pulling them apart, thrusting up again. Big and hard and ready to go. Quick as that. “I am a lucky man.”
“About to get even luckier.” I unzipped my warmup jacket and opened it wide. My skin almost glowed in the moonlight.
His hands went to my bare breasts. “This surprise dessert?” He gave each a gentle squeeze then ran his thumbs back and forth over my nipples until they got hard and tingly and I was ready to go, too. “Another example of why you make me happy.”
I slid along his erection, slowly, forward and back. Forward and back. The need to feel him inside of me growing.
He gripped the sides of my head, pulling me toward him, slamming his lips to mine with such need, his tongue spearing into my mouth as he moved beneath me, his breathing getting louder, rougher.
Lifting off of him, I lowered the elastic waistbands of his pants and briefs, freeing him. But when I tried to climb on to ride him, he turned me to face the front window, eased me down, my back to his front. “Reverse cowgirl.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and deep. He tilted my chin, exposing my neck. “Now let me enjoy my dessert.”
Boy-o-boy could my new boyfriend multitask. While his soft lips pressed tiny kisses along my neck, his course whiskers tickled my sensitive skin. At the same time, his hands skimmed down the naked skin of my inner thighs, applying a light pressure. “Open wide.”
I did, setting my right foot on the door.
He reached behind my left knee, pulling it up and back, urging my leg even wider, holding it in place. Then he ran his free hand down my waist, sliding through my wetness, plunging one thick finger inside. “A lucky, lucky man.”
Not as lucky as me.
He shifted his hips. Next thing I knew, the thick head of his dick pressed up against my entrance, waiting.
“Hold your leg.”
I grabbed my left knee.
“Put me inside of you.”
His warm, hard flesh in my other hand, I guided him in.
He took over almost instantly, finding a steady rhythm.
Down below, he used both hands to pull my cheeks open. Between his hands and mine, I felt spread so wide, the cool air hitting my heated, damp skin.
“Touch yourself.”
I started at my nipples, working between the two one-handed, sending a zing to my core. Moving lower, I twirled my clit just the way I liked it. So good. Angling my hips, I moved to get him to just the right spot, setting off a burst of wonderfulness inside of me. “Right there,” I told him, rocking to meet him.
He moved faster, pushed in deeper. “That’s my girl. Take what you need.”
My girl. My heart joined the party, making every sensation more pronounced, more overwhelming, more perfect.
His hand moved to our connection, through our combined wetness, then back down. I felt pressure. There. A stretching. A heightening of my awareness, my pleasure. I moved with purpose, massaging my clit, so full. “So good.”
He plunged deeper, pinched my nipple, hard. “Come for me.” He wiggled that finger and my orgasm surged out of me, didn’t stop, like nothing I’d ever experienced. My mind spun, my chest heaved, my body spasmed in rapture.
“Fuck. That was hot.” He grabbed my hips, holding me steady, ramming into me. “Never get enough of you.” He drove in one last time and let out a guttural groan followed by a deep, satisfied exhalation.
“Yee-haw,” I said quietly, so relaxed I could fall asleep.
He wrapped his arms around me, moving his mouth close to my ear. “Best dessert ever. We’ll have to wipe down the seat and the dash, but I am never washing these pants again.”
I smiled through my embarrassment. “Jerk.”
“But I’m your jerk.”
My heart swelled. I’d found my perfect match.
How would I ever let him go?
Then he added, “I set my girl off like a fire hose,” sounding so darn cocky.
But he did and it was wonderful, so I didn’t call him on it.
On Monday, as soon as I arrived at Speakeasy, I pulled Katie aside to ask her to meet me in the restroom ASAP.
She barged in a few minutes later. “What’s the matter?”
“Have you started your sleuthing about the anonymous quotes I’ve been receiving?”
“No. I was off yesterday, same as you. Today’s been crazy busy for a Monday.”
“Okay. Good. Listen—”
Katie cut me off with, “What’s going on?” She looked me up and down.
“Nothing’s going on.” I felt my face heat.
She noticed. “Something happened.”
I couldn’t look her in the eye.
“You’re wearing a plain old boring work shirt like the rest of us. No cutouts. No beads or bells.”
I’d tied it at the waist to show a little skin. R.D. said it looked nice.
“You did it,” Katie said. “You had sex with your soldier.”
“Keep your voice down!” We were the only two women in the restroom, but still.
“How was it? I need details.”
“I’m not giving you details.”
“It was fantastic, wasn’t it? Does he put those muscles to good use? Is he big…everywhere?”
Needing to get behind the bar, knowing I would not get Katie to shut it without giving her something, I shared, “It was amazing. He did put his muscles to good use and he’s…proportional.”
She started in with more questions, but I cut her off. “He asked me to be his girlfriend while he’s in town.”
“Awwww. That’s so sweet.”
“We’re keeping our relationship quiet. Please don’t tell anyone.”
Katie went still. “Why keep it quiet?”
I shrugged, not looking at her. “Reasons.”
“Oh, no,” Katie countered. “That kind of answer may work on some people. But not me, sistah.” She bent and leaned in until I couldn’t avoid eye contact. “Spill it.”
“Fine. It’s embarrassing, okay? That I wind up falling for my roommates.” I gave her part of the reason.
“Aw, honey.” She put her arm around my shoulders. “Fuck what other people think.”
I shoved her away. “Don’t talk like that.”
“Seriously,” Katie said. “If I had a man like that into me, I would tell everyone. It’d be my opener. ‘Hi. How are you? Did you know I’m having hot sex with R.D.?’”
That made me laugh. “You’re a nut. And for as much as I love you, we are very different people.” I looked up at her. No longer laughing. “I need you to hold off on asking around about my admirer.”
“What? Why?”
“I just don’t want to stir anything up right now.”
She studied me.
Felt like someone turned up the heat. I glanced away, half expecting to see something on fire.
“There’s more,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Something you’re not telling me.”
I swallowed down the impulse to share the rest, that I didn’t want my admirer to find out I was in a relationship, that I wanted to keep my options open for when R.D. left town. Even in my own head it made me sound like a terrible person. But I needed something to hold onto. For as long as R.D. stayed, I was his. But after…
“What is it?”
“There isn’t anything more to tell.” I tried to lie.
She could always tell. “Bullshit.” Her eyes locked onto mine.
I would not be intimidated. “Don’t let your author imagination run wild.” Turning away, I grabbed a tissue and blotted my suddenly sweaty cheeks and forehead.
“So that’s how it is?”
“That’s how it is.”
“We’re keeping secrets from each other now? After all these years?”
“I’m not…” I couldn’t finish.
She shook her head disapprovingly. “If whatever you’ve got going on in that head of yours is too bad to say out loud to me, your closest friend, there’s something seriously wrong.” With that, she turned and stormed out of the locker room.