How have I not screwed this up?
I honestly don’t have the answers. I keep trying not to screw this up by staying in my head, just knowing the next thing I say or do could mess up the absolute best thing that’s ever happened to me—but so far, I haven’t.
He asked me to stay the night. In his home. The home he shares part-time with his little girl, who I know is his whole world. And it may be jumping way ahead—but to me, that’s serious.
To me, that means he wants me to be part of his world. That and suggesting I meet his daughter. This isn’t just a hookup or fling to him. It’s real. And I so desperately want to hold onto that. Never let it go.
My first instinct when he asked if I’d stay was to run. I hate that about myself. I want more than anything to be with him, but I’m not used to this. I’m not used to feeling like someone wants to take care of me. Cherish me. Wants me.
We both climb into the shower, barely able to keep our lips and hands off each other long enough to scrub off the mess ourpassion created. But I don’t care. I want him in every way I can have him.
Both our cocks are half hard already, my hands trailing over every part of his body I can reach. My lips skim over his throat and down his broad, chiseled chest. I love the way the muscles in his arms flex tight as my fingers brush over each one. My fingers slide down over his arms to his hands, where I slide my fingers through his, thrusting my hard cock against his as my lips find their way up to his again, devouring him.
“I got tested last week,” I say against his mouth.
His lips stop moving against mine as he seems to process the words I’m saying. There’s no verbal response, but I feel his cock jerk against mine, as if he knows where I’m going with this.
My heart beats faster and faster, even thoughIknow where I’m going with this. He just came down my throat. Obviously, we already have trust between us, but I need this final little step.
We’re adults. We need to use our words.
I squeeze both his hands in mine, then pull back just enough to see his eyes. “I know you’ve only been with one person...”
“I was tested after we divorced. I knew she’d never cheat on me and put me in danger, but...”
I nod, not needing him to finish that. I don’t need him rehashing the hurt he felt at the time of his divorce. “All was good?” I ask, though I know without a doubt thathewould never putmein danger.How?It’s just another thing I can’t quite explain but know as atruthI’ll never dispute.
He nods and then releases one of my hands, dragging his fingers up my stomach, between my pecs. The sensation so good, my eyes drift shut for a moment until I feel his fingers brushing over my cheek.
I open my eyes and see desire in his gaze, but I also see excitement. The certainty. “What are you saying?”
I swallow hard, my throat aching with the motion, but I force myself to go on. Never feeling more sure of anything in my life. “I want you inside me. I need it like I’ve never needed anything in my life.”
“Have you ever...” He bites back the question, like he’s not sure whether he wants to know or not.
I tell him the truth though. “I have, but it’ll be different with you. And I’ve never gone without a condom before, like I know I want to with you.” Nerves hit me now. Not that I’m nervous about him being inside me—though it has been almost a decade since I’ve been fucked and since I’ve done the fucking.
After my boyfriend in college, I didn’t trust anyone to do that, and I didn’t want to do that with anyone else. It was always frenzied hand jobs and sometimes blowjobs, but that was it.
“I want that,” he says, his hand smoothing over my cheek and his fingers sliding into my hair. “I want everything with you. But when do I get a turn?”
My dick jumps between us, fully hard and ready to go now at the thought of sliding into his tight heat. I want that too. No doubt about it, but there’s something inside me—a vulnerable, achy piece of me that needs him tonight.
“Soon.” I lean in and kiss him. “But tonight, I need you.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Just washes the soap from my body, using his big hands to soothe my nerves, and then rinses himself off before turning off the water. After handing me a really fluffy towel—that seems like it belongs more in a fancy hotel rather than a bachelor’s home—we dry off, and he leads me to his large bed.
I like that it’s disheveled still, totally unmade and in contrast to the rest of his house, which is awfully neat and tidy.
“Please tell me you have lube?” I ask, staring at his sexy-as-hell, naked body.
He gives me a sly little smile before showing me his backside as he walks over to his bedside table. He opens the drawer and fishes around in there, but my eyes are glued to the muscles in his back and his firm, round ass. I feel woozy and nearly have to sit down just at the sight of him.
He grabs the bottle of lube, then walks confidently to me, one of his hands grabbing my hip and pulling me into him. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he says in a sexy rasp that’s doing nothing to unscramble my brain.
I lick my lips nervously, loving the intense way he looks at me. Loving everything about him. Loving...
Nope. I think blurting out that I’m in love with him right before we have sex has the potential of ruining everything. I bite the words back by leaning in and stealing his lips.
