I wake up before Margo, just as the early morning sun streams through her hotel room window.
The curtains are partway open, and I look outside at the post-storm haze as I yawn softly. I haven’t slept this well in years, which is odd, considering this is the first time I’ve shared a bed overnight with someone in a very long time. I usually make a point to go to sleep alone, no matter how late it is.
But the strangest part isn’t even that Margo and I spent the night together in the same bed. What’s really freaking me out is how much I liked it. And we didn’t even have sex. I made her come on my face—fuck, she tastes so damn good—but that’s where things ended.
Even though my dick was so hard it could’ve ripped a hole in my sweats, I wanted to make sure she knew that I didn’t come to her room looking to get laid, that I didn’t have an ulterior motive. I came because I was worried about her and didn’t want her to be alone. Getting to spend a couple hours with my face buried in her sweet pussy was just an unexpected bonus.
Her ex-boyfriend is an idiot.
Fuck that asshole for making her feel like having a man take care of her pleasure is some kind of hardship for him, or like there’s something wrong with her because just she can’t climax at the drop of a hat. She was so responsive once she let go of her self-consciousness and let herself enjoy it, and I hope she believed me when I told her I was enjoying myself too.
Because I really fucking was.
I thought the sounds she made in the elevator were the best things I’d ever heard, but they’ve got nothing on the sexy as hell noises she made last night. I’ve never thought of myself as the type of guy with an addictive personality, but I could easily see myself getting hooked on that.
Margo lets out a little sigh in her sleep and rolls over so that I can see her face. She’s so fucking beautiful, sensual and adorable at the same time. It almost kills me, and for a second, my chest locks up with worry. What are the odds that I’m going to mess this whole thing up? This is new territory for me, and I know that the trust Margo has placed in me is fragile.
A smile curves her lips as I continue to stare at her, and she whispers, “I can feel you watching me.”
She cracks one gray eye open, the blue flecks shimmering with amusement.
Oops. Busted.
“Sorry.” I chuckle. “You’re just very sexy when you’re asleep.”
“And you’re very sexy when you’re watching me sleep.”
“God, I’m glad you said sexy and not creepy.”
Her smile widens, sleepy and languid. “Well, it’s all about context.”
She leans in and kisses me, and my cock, which was already hard when I woke up, stiffens even more. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect this morning. Last night was incredible, but part of me worried that she’d pull away when she woke up, once the moment had passed. But the way she rests her hands against my bare chest, her lips moving against mine, doesn’t feel like pulling away at all.
And I fucking love it.
I start to lean over her, taking the kiss deeper, but she pushes on my chest. I don’t fight her, allowing her to roll me onto my back. When she sits up in bed, light from the window framing the contours of her body, I swear I almost come in my damn pants. I got plenty of chances to look and taste my fill last night, but it still takes my breath away. She has subtle curves that just beg me to explore them, and her breasts are small and firm, each of them a perfect handful. Her hair spills over her shoulders, a bit tangled and messy in a way that makes my chest swell with pride.
It’s from tossing her head back and forth while I made her come last night.
Lacing my fingers behind my head, I gaze up at her, content to just keep watching. But then she bites the side of her lip, something hot flashing in her eyes. Shifting the blankets out of the way, she crawls down to kneel between my legs.
My throat immediately goes dry, desire surging through me in such a strong rush that it takes me a second to find my voice.
“What are you doing?” I rasp.
She shrugs, running her tongue over her teeth. “You did a lot for me last night. And I know what you said about not wanting me to think I’m a notch on your bedpost, but I was thinking… maybe I could return the favor.”
Fuck. I’m gonna die. This is it. This is what kills me.
Again, I’m rendered speechless for a moment, and when I have to clear my throat, Margo grins.
“You don’t have to—” I start to say, and she shakes her head.
“I know. You didn’t have to last night either, but you said you wanted to. And I really want to do this.”
My balls tighten, and I can feel a drop of precum leaking from my tip. Goddamn. It’s important to me that Margo knows I’m serious, that I’m interested in more with her… but I’m not a fucking saint. And telling her no while she’s kneeling between my legs, naked and perfect and looking at me like that?
Fucking impossible.
“Okay.” I nod, then add, “I’m clean. I never go without protection, and I get tested often.”
“I’m clean too,” she says, even though the way she’s staring down at me is so damn dirty.
“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” I rasp.
The hungry look in her eyes deepens as she leans forward to grip the waistband of my sweats. “Then show me.”
She lifts the waistband, stretching it upward to maneuver it over my cock before doing the same with my boxer briefs. She tugs them off, and my thighs tighten as my dick stands at attention, so fucking stiff that it juts up toward my stomach.
Margo’s eyes widen as she stares down at it. “Oh my god, you’re…”
“Pierced?” I supply for her. There’s a single curved barbell through the head of my dick. I’ve had it for years.
“Big.”
Her voice drops low as she says it, and I laugh, although it comes out husky.
“You’re good for my ego,” I tell her.
She’s still staring at my dick, which I don’t mind one bit. She reaches out and wraps her hand around it, and my toes curl, my hips jerking upward a little at the feel of her warm fingers and palm.
“I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you that you have a big cock,” she says, glancing back up at my face. “This thing is a fucking monster. No one could miss a dick like this.”
My grin widens. “Okay, fair. But it’s never sounded as good as when you said it.”
She squeezes me a little, and I hiss out a breath, trying not to embarrass myself. I’ve been so turned on ever since last night that if I was jerking myself off, I could probably come in two point zero seconds. But if I blow my load that quick the first time Margo is touching me, I’ll never fucking forgive myself.
“Just… a warning,” I grit out. “If I don’t last long, I don’t want you to take that as a sign of my usual endurance. Just take it as a sign of how much you turn me on, and the fact that… well, things are a bit backed up down there.”
She laughs, seemingly enjoying the hell out of herself, and I focus on that sound to keep myself from coming all over her hand.
Margo gathers her blonde hair with her free hand, releasing her hold on me for a second while she leans over and grabs a hair tie from the nightstand. I don’t say a word as she ties her hair back, almost afraid that if I speak, I’ll either wake myself up from the best dream I’ve ever had or say something to ruin this moment.
“Tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” she whispers, leaning down and wrapping one hand around me again.
“I don’t think you could if you tried,” I say hoarsely.
The grin she shoots me is almost shy… and it’s a complete contrast to the way she spits on my dick. It drips down from her mouth to the head of my cock, and she follows it up by wrapping her lips around me.
“Jesus,” I hiss, my hands clenching behind my head.
Her tongue swirls around my crown, exploring the contours of the piercing, and my stomach clenches so tight that I feel like I’m at the gym doing an ab workout. As she starts to slide her head up and down, she moves her hand along with it, slicking my entire shaft with her saliva.
Her fuckhead ex, whoever he is, really must’ve been a selfish lover. I get the sense that she’s given a lot more oral than she’s received, because she definitely knows what she’s doing. She struggles a little to take me deeper, her lips stretched wide around me, but the way she runs her tongue up the underside of my cock with each stroke makes my thighs clench.
“Fuck, you’re good,” I breathe. “That feels so fucking good.”
She hums in response, and the vibrations go right to my balls. At first, keeps one hand braced on the bed, but once she finds her rhythm, she gets both hands involved, twisting them a little every time they slide up my shaft. I grit my teeth, my nostrils flaring with each inhale, trying to hold off my orgasm as I watch her head bob up and down.
“Fucking shit,” I mutter. “You look so good like this. Can you take me a little deeper?”
She makes a muffled affirmative noise, working her way down until I feel myself hit the back of her throat. She tenses up a little, like she’s trying to fight down her gag reflex, and I rest one hand on the back of her head—not to push her down, but just because I want to fucking touch her.
“You’re killing me, Sunflower,” I rasp.
She comes up for a breath, gasping softly before she dives right back down on my dick, and I wrap my hand around her ponytail, letting her dictate the pace. When she takes me all the way to the back of her throat the next time, she swallows, and my fist tightens around her hair.
“Fuck. I’m close. Goddammit, I’m not ready, but you’re too fucking good.”
I mean it. I’m nowhere near ready, but Margo clearly likes the note of desperation in my voice. She picks up the pace, working her hands and mouth over me in a steady rhythm, hollowing her cheeks as she practically demands that I give her my cum.
And at this point, there’s no fucking stopping it.
“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”
My back arches, pleasure shooting through me as my cock pulses inside her mouth. She swallows, then swallows again, squeezing her hands around me. I curse again as she milks a few last spurts from me, then I go limp on the bed, sucking in air like I just finished a two-minute shift against the top line.
Margo lifts her head slowly, taking the time to clean up my shaft as she goes, and the second she releases me, I pull her up so that she’s sprawled over my body, my hands cupping the sides of her face as I kiss her hungrily. She melts against me, sighing softly into the kiss, and I can taste the tang of my cum on her tongue.
It’s fucking incredible.
We both linger in the kiss, and I know that if we stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms for much longer, I could be ready for more in just a matter of minutes. That’s how much this girl turns me on.
But instead, I break the kiss after a moment, framing her face with my hands as I ask, “You hungry?”
She grins, rumpled and flushed and so damn gorgeous. “Yeah. Starving.”
“Great.”
After reluctantly peeling my body away from hers, I jump out of bed and pull my sweats on, then I hand her the menu from the bedside table so that she can look it over. Then I pick up the phone and call down to the lobby, asking for room service.
“Mmm,” Margo says excitedly, her eyes scanning the menu. “Oh, it all sounds so good. The pancakes and the eggs Benedict both sound amazing. Oh, they have hash browns and a breakfast sandwich that looks very fancy in the picture. I wonder if their biscuits and gravy are really soupy…”
“Room service,” says a voice on the other line. “How can I help you?”
“Hi,” I say, running a hand over the slight stubble on my jaw. “I’d like to order some room service, please. We’ll have a couple orders of pancakes, plus an order of eggs Benedict. Two orders of hash browns, a breakfast sandwich, biscuits and gravy, and two coffees, one with oat milk and a little sugar. Oh, and mimosas. Thank you.”
I’m normally pretty regimented with my diet, especially in season, but I give myself one or two cheat days a week, and today seems like the perfect day to use one of them.
“Is that it?” the concierge asks.
I look at Margo. “Is that it?”
Her mouth is hanging open, the menu dangling from her hands. “Is that it? That’s so much food!”
I grin widely, then go back to speaking into the phone. “Oh, and add in the avocado toast and a breakfast burrito too. That’ll be all. Charge it to room 206, please.”
“Are you sure?” the man asks, sounding a little confused. “I see that you’re calling from room 202.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. 206. Thanks.”
I hang up the phone and then join Margo in bed once more, sliding beneath the covers.
“Why did you get all of that stuff?” she asks. “I’m not going to be able to eat all of it.”
“That’s okay.” I shrug, nudging her with my shoulder. “Just eat what you like. I wanted to get everything that sounded good to you. I didn’t know what your absolute favorite was, and since I want to know more about you, I thought I would get a large sampling of food in order to do my research.”
“I like all the food you ordered.”
“But pancakes are your favorite, right? That’s my guess.”
She lets out a startled noise. “How’d you know that?”
“It was the first thing you mentioned,” I tell her. “But I looked at the menu last night and noticed that pancakes were at the bottom of the page. So that tells me that the pancakes were definitely not the first thing you saw. Just the first thing you mentioned that sounded good to you.”
She laughs and snuggles close to me. “Wow. I had no idea you were so observant.”
“I am when it comes to you,” I say honestly.
We spend the next half hour in bed, fooling around a bit without ever letting things get too far, bantering lazily as we enjoy having nowhere to go and nothing to do. When room service knocks, Margo throws on one of the hotel’s complimentary bathrobes while I go answer the door. There’s so much food that it arrives on two different carts, and I tip the guy well for figuring out where to put it all.
Once he’s gone, we sit down to eat. The food is delicious, and we talk as we dig in. I love how easily Margo opens up now that her walls have come down a bit, and I find myself staring at her as she speaks, drawn in by the way she uses her hands to emphasize her words, and the way her eyes light up with excitement when she talks about something she’s passionate about.
Margo suddenly pauses in the middle of a story. “Do I have food on my face?”
“What?” I shake my head. “No. You’re good.”
She doesn’t quite look like she believes me, and she brushes her hand over her mouth before saying, “Are you sure? You were staring at me.”
“Oh. Sorry. I was just…” I trail off, feeling oddly embarrassed. It’s corny as hell.
She looks intrigued, leaning forward and miming poking me with her fork. “What? Spill it.”
“I was trying to decide if your eyes are more of a blue gray or a smoky gray.”
I swear to fuck I’m blushing, and I can’t remember the last time that happened. But Margo doesn’t laugh at me. In fact, I think she’s blushing too. Her features soften, and she traps her bottom lip between her teeth, making my cock sit up and take notice all over again. Her lip slides out from between her teeth slowly, and she holds my gaze for a moment.
“On my driver’s license, it just says ‘gray,’” she finally murmurs. “To be honest, I’ve never had anyone spend time trying to figure out the exact shade before.”
I crack a smile, even though there’s nothing teasing in my voice as I tell her, “Well, I’ll keep working on it. I want to know, because whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it’s my favorite color.”
Her breath hitches in response, and my entire body reacts to the soft sound. I swear, if I had just a tiny bit less self-control, the food we ordered would be all over the floor right now while I laid her out on the table and ate her for breakfast.
Get it together, Noah. You’re trying not to rush this shit, remember?
I barely do remember that fact right now, so I lean back in my chair to get a little more distance between me and the addictive woman in front of me. Kicking my feet out, I hook two fingers through the handle of my coffee mug as I try to dissipate some of the tension hanging in the air.
“Anyway, before I so rudely interrupted you with my debate over shades of gray, you were saying…”
She waves her fork in the air before stabbing it into a bit of pancake. “Oh, it wasn’t really anything important. Just work stuff. Boring.”
“No,” I insist. “Not boring. Nothing about you is boring. Whatever it was, I want to hear it.”
She pops the pancake between her lips, holding a hand up in front of her mouth as she speaks. “Fine. I’ll tell you about my meeting with Ted yesterday and our plan for bringing more traffic to the team’s website, but when you realize that this is the most boring topic of conversation in the world, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I grin, shaking my head. “I could listen to you read the dictionary for days on end, Sunflower. That’s how much you enthrall me.”
Her cheeks redden, and she looks away for a second, sipping on her mimosa before launching into her ‘boring’ story, which turns out to be not boring at all.
We spend the next hour or so chatting and eating, and even though we barely manage to put a dent in all the food, I glance at the clock on the microwave at one point and grimace. I need to get back to my room and start packing. Our return flight to Denver leaves in just a couple hours, and I still need to shower and check in with the team.
“I hate to say this, but I have to go.” I get up from my chair, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you on the plane, right?”
“Yup, I’ll be there. No other way for me to get home.”
I nod and reluctantly head for the door, then pause when I hear her getting up from her own seat and following me. At the door, neither of us speaks for a moment.
“Listen,” she says finally. “Thanks again for coming over last night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“Happy to help,” I tell her, and I truly mean it. I’m genuinely delighted that I was able to do something for this incredible woman, that someone like me actually made a positive impact on her life. Happiness and satisfaction infuse my whole body, and I suddenly find the courage to ask her a question that’s been on my mind all morning.
“Margo, can I please take you out on a real date?”
She hesitates for a second or two, looking down and fiddling with the strap of her robe. Then she meets my gaze and smiles shyly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll go on a real date with you.”
“Fuck, yes.” I grin, letting out a breath. “You’ve just made me the happiest man in the world, and that’s going to really piss off the rest of my team, because I know they’re probably still salty about last night’s loss.”
“When do you want to go out?” she asks, and I’m even more thrilled that she’s ready to make plans right here, right now.
“Next week,” I answer immediately. “We don’t have a game Thursday night. You can come to my place, and I’ll cook us dinner.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Perfect.” I lean in for one last kiss, and when we break apart, her smile has grown even bigger, her face flushed. “It’s a date.”
I step out into the hallway, and she shuts the door behind me. As I head back to my room, I’m already replaying every second of last night and this morning.
It feels like I’m walking on air. Like I’m flying.
And nothing, not a single thing, could bring me down.
