Tess gazes up at me, her eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed. “Who are you and what have you done with Ryan Langley?” she teases, her lips glossy with my kisses.
We’re both panting like we just survived a set of suicide sprints. Fuck, she spins me up unlike anything else. Her kisses are explosive, like little tastes of dynamite on my tongue. My hands frame her face while her hands are wrapped gently around my wrists. Heart pounding in my chest, I hold her gaze. “Am I surprising you?”
“A little, yeah. You’ve just always seemed so sweet.”
I frown at her. In my experience, ‘sweet’ is the kiss of fucking death. “What, did you think I’d come to your bed wearing a propeller hat and Ninja Turtle undies?”
She laughs, biting her bottom lip to hold the sound back. “Honestly, I don’t know what I thought…but I like it,” she adds, her smile falling as she gazes up at me. “You’re a really good kisser, Ryan.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I reply. The fingers of my left hand glisten with her arousal. I’m on autopilot as I take those fingers and brush them against her parted lips.
She sucks in a breath of surprise. Ducking down, I chase it, my lips claiming the arousal painting her lips. She whimpers, her naked body melting against mine as I tease her again with my tongue. She’s holding nothing back. It’s fucking intoxicating. I’m drunk on kissing her.
“Fuck,” I groan, pulling away. I need more. As she watches, I suck both my fingers into my mouth. The taste is muted, but sweet. I clean her essence from my fingers, loving how she squirms with need, her cheeks flushed.
“Ryan,” she murmurs, her mouth barely moving.
My name on her lips is fucking everything. I need to taste her. I wasn’t kidding, I need her spread out on that bed. I intend to bury my face in her cunt and never come up for air.
I’ll admit, I don’t often go here with girls. Putting my mouth on a pussy feels too intimate for a first time, and I pretty much only have first times. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve given a girl a second date. When I’ve felt comfortable, we’ve gone there, and I’ve enjoyed myself. In a few cases, it was the girl who didn’t want to go there.
And I’m not a total asshole. If I don’t go down on them, they don’t go down on me. Which means most of the time, my hookups are little more than a rushed make-out session and some hot and heavy pounding, my dick wrapped in a condom.
I’m not out here trying to win awards for ‘world’s best lover.’ My sole focus for the last fifteen years has been scoring goals, winning trophies, and making it to the NHL. Sex was more of a biological imperative. I did it to survive. More often than not, my hand has sufficed.
But now, with Tess in my arms, her taste on my tongue, all my careful boundaries are slipping away. I don’t want to put my mouth on her pussy, I need it. I’m craving her like I crave air. The rational part of my brain is telling me to slow down and get some distance. But my heart is pounding out of control, and he wants us to see this through, even if we only have tonight.
“You’re getting on that bed,” I say, pointing to it. “I’m not done with you yet.”
With a smirk, she turns, showing me her beautiful body as she walks over to the bed. Tess is no slender waif. She’s all woman—big breasts, thick thighs, a curvy midsection, and that ass that can’t seem to quit. I am weak for this woman. Fucking weak.
I nearly pass out when she crawls onto the end of the bed, putting that perfect ass on full display. Fuck, I want to mark her dimpled skin. I want to claim it—with my teeth, my hands. I’ve never really explored the darker side of my interests in the bedroom. Again, who has the time? But right now, Tess is kneeling next to her bag of tricks, and I saw some of what was inside. I have a feeling this woman is more than a match for me.
My dick is so hard it hurts, but he needs to wait his turn. I’m only just getting started. “Turn over,” I call to her. “Lie down and spread your legs, beautiful. Show me your pussy.”
She turns over in the middle of the bed, a soft smile on her face. It’s dark in here, the only light coming from her bathroom. The strip of golden light stretches right atop her stomach and thighs. Dropping back to her elbows, she holds my gaze as she brings her knees up. So fucking slowly, she drops them open, exposing her shiny pink cunt to me.
My soul leaves my body as she lets out a little laugh, the sound making her breasts jiggle.
“What’s the matter, puppy?” she teases. “You just gonna stand there?”
And because she really wants to leave me for dead, she shifts her weight, dropping her left hand down between her legs to finger her own clit. She makes the sweetest little whimpering sound that burrows its way through my rock-hard dick, straight to my fucking heart.
All coherent thought leaves me except one word: mine.
No one is gonna touch that pretty pussy tonight except for me. I take a step towards her, my only desire getting to her, feeling her, sinking into the warm scent of her skin. I want the sweet nectar of her arousal on my tongue.
So, I take that first step closer…a step on a bad knee.
“Ouch—mother—fuck—” I cry out, stumbling as I quickly regain my balance, shifting all my weight back to my right leg.
“Ryan,” Tess cries, sitting up. The lust in her eyes is instantly replaced with concern. “Ohmygod—” And then she’s up, slipping off the side of the bed and rushing to my side. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I completely forgot about your knee. Are you hurt?” She wraps an arm around my waist, trying to help me bear my weight.
“I’m fine.”
“Here, let me help you,” she says. “Come sit.”
“I said I’m fine—”
“You’re not fine.”
We cross the five or so steps to the bed and I turn, sinking down onto the end. Immediately, my hands go to her, cupping the thick curves of her hips as I pull her closer to me. I bring her naked flesh right up to my face, inhaling deep against her floral-scented skin, my nose brushing just above her navel. I don’t bother suppressing my groan as my dick twitches in my shorts.
“Ryan,” she sighs, her hands going from my hair to my shoulders.
I could delude myself into thinking she wants me to continue, but I can feel the tension in her hold. “Is the moment over?”
She shifts her weight to one hip as she combs her fingers back through my hair again. I chase the touch, moving my head with her hand. “Ryan, what are we doing?”
“I thought that was obvious,” I reply, giving her naked ass a gentle squeeze.
Her eyes flutter closed, but I feel the increased tension in her arms. Fuck, this woman is a master at pulling away. Shelby warned me, I just didn’t want to believe.
“Tess—”
“We need to stop,” she says, stepping away from the bed…from me.
I let her go, my hands brushing the dimpled skin of her thighs as she backs away.
Fuck, what did I really think was about to happen here? We had one conversation about her controlling ex, and that switched my damn hindbrain into overdrive. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to make her feel good. I wanted her to feel safe, comforted, desired.
“I’m sorry,” I say, raising my hands in defeat.
“Ryan, no. You did nothing wrong. Please don’t think you did.”
I nod, suddenly feeling self-conscious about being in this room with her still naked. I drop my gaze to the floor. “Could you please put something on?”
For the first time since we met, she doesn’t fight me or laugh off our mutual embarrassment. Stepping around me, she moves silently into the bathroom. In moments, she steps out again, tying the knot of a little pink floral bathrobe at her waist. The damn thing is barely long enough to cover her pussy, and the deep “V” exposes the heavy swell of her full boobs.
But I mean, I guess it’s something, right?
“I’m sorry,” she says, her soft voice cutting through my mental self-flagellation.
My gaze darts up sharply to her face. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be a tease or lead you on or—”
“Tess, stop,” I all but growl. “You did nothing wrong either.”
“I pushed you,” she admits. “I wanted to…to not feel so alone.” I can hear the tears catching in her throat. “Ryan, I’ve been so alone—”
Her voice breaks, and I’m on my feet. I pull her to me, my arms wrapping around her shoulders as I just hold her. “It’s okay,” I say against her temple, a few of her soft curls brushing my lips. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
After a moment, she relaxes, her sobs muffled by my shirt as her hands skim around my waist. Then she’s clinging to me. We’re relaxed, but firmly together. It feels nice. Compared to her smooth curves, I’m all hard edges.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccups, pulling back. “I’m such a fucking mess.”
“New house rule,” I reply, brushing my thumbs under her eyes to wipe away her tears. “No more apologizing for this,” I say, gesturing between us. “We’re attracted to each other. I can admit it. I think you can too. Tess, you’re fucking magnetic. I don’t think I can stay away, even if I try…and I don’t want to,” I add with a smirk.
She gives another little watery laugh. “I’m not trying to push you away. I’m just—such a goddamn mess—”
“House rule number two,” I say, cutting her off. “No more self-deprecation. You’re not a disaster or a pain or an inconvenience or any of the four-hundred and fifty other terrible names you probably have rolling around up here,” I say, tapping her temple. “Be nice to my friend, Tess. Okay?”
Her mouth quirks with a smile she’s trying not to let loose. Slowly, she nods.
“Let’s press pause on this,” I say, gesturing between us. “Bad timing now isn’t bad timing forever, right?”
She nods, her eyes still glassy with unshed tears.
“Hey, I have an idea,” I say. “How about you put on your PJs, and I’ll make us some popcorn. We can watch whatever you want on the TV in my room.”
She blinks up at me. “In your room?”
“Sometimes it helps me to fall asleep with the TV on. I bet you’ll pick something girly, and then I can just kind of zone out and maybe actually fall asleep.”
Her eyes flash as she pops her hands on those hips—which should be a crime because it just pulls on the opening of her silky robe, showing me more of her breasts. “You want me to pick the TV show so you can zone out to a stupid chick flick?”
“That way we both win, right?” Ducking down on one leg with the balance of a pro hockey player, I snatch up my crutch from the floor. “Meet me over there in five,” I call over my shoulder, not giving her a chance to say no.
And that’s how I found myself eating three bags of popcorn and staying up until 2:00 a.m. rewatching the first four episodes of Sons of Anarchy. I lost Tess somewhere early in episode three. She passed out on my bed, her arm curled around the empty popcorn bowl, green jelly eye patch things stuck to her cheeks, with fuzzy llama socks on her feet.
Clicking off my bedside lamp, I settle down into the pillows and try to get comfortable. Doc assures me I won’t have to wear this stupid brace for much longer.
Next to me, Tess shifts. I lie still, curious to see what she wants, what she craves even in her sleep. She inches closer, unknowingly using the sink of the mattress to roll gently into me, our bodies connecting from the shoulder down. The smell of her coconutty hair oil fills my senses and I breathe deep. If I turn my face, my lips will practically be pressing against her forehead.
I don’t turn. I don’t breach her trust by taking something that wasn’t freely offered.
But I think about doing it. I think about casually kissing her the way I want. I think about holding her, entwining our legs together, feeling how all the soft parts of her fit the hard parts of me. I think about knowing her and letting her know me. All of me. The parts I share and the parts I hide away. Would she still want me? Would she care?
I think about sharing the quiet touches of such a casual intimacy until sleep takes me.
And when I wake, Tess is gone.
Again.
