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Two months later
TODAY HAS BEEN A GOOD day. I know better than to expect to feel like this very often, but I got six hours of uninterrupted sleep last night plus a nap this afternoon. I kind of feel like a new person. I just finished a feeding, and Maverick is rocking Kenzie to sleep. Well, she’s already asleep. He’s just rocking her. She’s a little pink lump on his massive chest, so small in his big man hands. The sound of his heartbeat always soothes her so much. She must know she’s safe. Nothing can hurt her when she’s in his gentle hands.
What’s not safe is my libido. Holy fuckballs. A beefy alpha man with a teeny tiny baby on his chest would put a little spring in any omega. The fact that it’s my teeny tiny baby adds a triple Axel to that spring. “You going to put that baby to bed soon?”
He grunts. “I like her when she’s sleeping.”
“You don’t fool me. You like that baby all the time. So much for being my grouchy neighbor.”
He gets out of the chair with this masculine grace that makes me jealous. Especially since he does it without waking the baby. Something I haven’t mastered yet. “We should take her to the park tomorrow.”
“She’s a little young for the slide.”
“I was thinking more about fresh air. And that maybe you could use some too.”
It’s been a few days since I left the apartment. Two? Three? “Yeah, you know, that might be a good idea.” Since I can’t remember what outside feels like.
He tucks Kenzie into her crib and winces when he straightens.
“What's wrong? You hurt yourself at the gym?”
He rubs his shoulder. “I pushed too hard today. My traps and lats,” he says like that’s something I would understand.
“That means...”
“That means I should get you down to the gym. Then you’d know.”
“Ha. Not happening. Unless that’s your way of insinuating I’m out of shape.” More like he’s just kind of bossy about what he thinks is good for me. Which I allow because it’s nice to be cared for.
Maverick gets down two glasses and pours the non-alcoholic wine for us. “I wouldn’t mind if you were stronger just because I want you to be able to defend yourself.”
“You’re just tired of opening all my jars.”
“I’ll always open jars for you.”
We sort of pause there, like our conversation is on DVR. There is this long exchange where the two of us just stare into each other's eyes. In a moment that should have been uncomfortable or strange, instead there is a connection. I don’t want to read too much into what he said, but “always” is a long time, and I’m having a hard time with remembering we’re just friends lately. He’s with us a lot. He takes care of Kenzie like a dad. He even spent the night in my bed last week when she was getting up every twenty minutes. A very platonic night in my bed, but still.
He’s in boyfriend mode except for the part where there is any kind of affection that isn’t platonic.
We still haven’t addressed what we were doing on the couch when I went into labor. It was stricken from the record, I guess. And for a while, it needed to be. But my boy parts are defrosting again after their hiatus, and my hot neighbor fantasies are warming up.
I need to break this weird silence, though.
“In my defense, I only need you to open jars when I have the baby in one arm. So, what is a...what did you call it that’s sore? Trats?”
He hands me a glass. “Lats and traps. Turn around.”
I take a sip and turn as he places a large, strong, warm hand on my upper back.
“Here and...” He slides his hand onto my shoulder. “Here.”
My heart sprints from his touch, giving me a good workout after all. My breath grows heavy. “Oh.” I wish this wine had real booze right now. I could use the liquid courage. No drinking until I’m done nursing, though.
“Wow, you're pretty tense, too.” His hand gently kneads my shoulder.
He’s touched me plenty in the last three months. I’m not sure what is different right now. Why his hot breath on my skin causes my nipples to pucker under my shirt. Why, when I let myself go lax against his hard body behind me, I have to hold in the moan.
“You're all knotted up. Your shoulders are stiffer than mine.”
Why don’t you show me how stiff you are? And speaking of knotted up...
Down, boy.
I groan when he works out one of those “knots” with his thick hands. “This isn’t hurting your right hand, is it? You just stopped wearing the brace.”
“Don’t worry about my hand. Just relax.”
I loll my head to one side and release all the tension in my body. Maverick’s breathing becomes louder, and his dick presses against my ass but neither of us comment on it. Is he taking as much pleasure from massaging me as I am from his magic hands? “It feels really good, Smith.” I take a chance and press my ass against his hardening dick.
He doesn’t say a word as he slowly slides one of his hands down my side to the waistband of my shorts and tugs lightly at my top, exposing a patch of skin to his tracing fingers.
We’ve gone too far to call this an innocent massage now. I guess it’s time to do the big boy thing and make a move. A real one.
I reach behind me and rub his erection. “Feels like you’re stiff, too, Smith. I think you need a rubdown as much as I do.”
––––––––
I GROAN AND REST MY chin on his shoulder, inhaling the skin of his neck. Fuck, I want him... I want Simon so badly. I’ve spent countless nights either jacking myself to sleep thinking about him or dreaming of him in ways I felt guilty about in the morning. I want to see his naked, tight body, hold his hips as I discover how tight and hot he is...
But this isn’t right. He’s just had a baby and surgery. I have nothing to offer him. I’m still not cleared to go back to work. I still can’t talk about the last call I went on and what happened to Ricky. I still wake up in a cold sweat most nights. I feel like half the man I used to be, and that guy was no prize either. Not good enough for him or Kenzie. “Simon...”
“Shhhh,” he says, “you don't have to say anything.” He turns so he’s facing me and sets his NA wine on the counter. The pulse in his throat is leaping as he runs his hands from my wrists up to my shoulders and then curls them around the back of my neck. He stretches on his toes and gently lays his lips on mine. He pulls back and tenderly traces my lower lip with the pad of his thumb.
Fuck if I know what to do with this sweetness. I clutch his arms, my limbs shaky and weak. “I’m not sure this—”
Simon pulls my head down to rest my forehead against his with a sigh. Cupping both my cheeks, he uses his fingertips to comb through my hair. Stretching up to me again, just a breath away from my lips, he whispers, “I’m sure.” He leans forward just enough to barely touch his lips to mine. Then he whispers again, “I’m very, very sure.” With a smile, he pulls me closer to meet his lips fully. His mouth slides over mine, lips clinging, sipping.
His mouth curves in pleasure when I return his kiss. I don’t rush this, though part of me wants to. It’s just a soft, gentle exploration, like we have all the time in the world. I tell myself we’ll stop soon. Take it slow. There’s this feeling inside me that keeps fluttering just out of my grasp, and I know if I try to hold it, it will disappear. I need to just let this sweetness happen.
I part my lips in invitation, not wanting to push. But it’s getting harder. I’m getting harder. Softly, he touches the inside of my mouth, tasting and exploring me, like he’s learning my flavor as he slides his tongue against mine.
Time spins out, and I lose myself in him. My hands are in his hair, his body flush against mine. All that sweetness and warmth that I don’t deserve, yet I take. And take.
His hands are under my shirt, stroking my chest and torso, creating little patterns of sparks wherever his fingertips land. I try to reach for his wrists. “Wait.”
“Done waiting.” His hands are pulling up the hem of my shirt, and any war I might have been fighting is over when I see the sheer delight in his eyes as he uncovers me. Fuck, his desire undoes me. I rip the shirt off and tug him to me, delving back into his delicious lips. It’s not sweet kisses anymore. I’m all-out assaulting his mouth, fucking him with my tongue, bringing as much of his body against me as I can and holding him tightly. Maybe too tightly. Months of stored sexual tension just broke the dam of careful control I’d cultivated, and I can’t give a fuck.
I half-pick him up, mauling him on the way to his bedroom
I set him on his feet next to the bed and I try to find thoughts through the haze of lust. “Wait. Are you okay to do this? Is it too soon?”
“Doctor cleared me at my last appointment. I didn’t say anything because, well, we weren’t...we haven’t been...”
“And we are now?”
“We are now for sure.” He bites his lip and looks at the tent in my shorts. “I need you, Maverick.”
Rockets burst in my damned ribcage. Want can’t begin to describe what I’m feeling. “Baby, there’s two men warring inside me right now. One wants to make love to you slow and sweet and treat you like royalty.”
“And the other?”
Dare I? Will I scare him off? Maybe that’s best. If he sees the ugly parts, maybe he’ll protect himself.
I grasp the hair on the back of his head with my hand and tug, exposing his throat to me. I close my mouth over his skin and nip, then lave it with my tongue. “The other wants to fuck you dirty and raw and treat you like a toy.”