What if he proposed they dated?
Would she even be interested? It wasn’t like she ever tried to rekindle their hookup. She’d been professional when they returned, albeit her work clothes had definitely changed—but he pegged that for part of her transformation and not for him.
He let the water run down his body, hoping for some big revelation.
When he turned off the tap and grabbed a towel from the rack, the desire to be with her didn’t dampen. His gut curled into a scary knot.
She wouldn’t come to his room tonight—he had to go to her.
He didn’t want to be difficult, but it was clear as spring water. The big revelation wouldn’t come, because he’d had all these glimpses in the past few days, of what his life could be like with her in it as his girlfriend, his woman. One day… his wife?
He drew in a breath. He’d never imagined Megan as his wife, even though they were together for years. Yet with Manuela… he could see himself coming home to her. Something about their relationship was hard to explain, it was so easy he didn’t have to worry.
He put on his pants and short sleeved shirt from earlier. Showing up wearing his robe wouldn’t be appropriate, not in case she really didn’t want to pursue anything with him further. And he’d hate to make her feel uncomfortable. The reason why he’d gotten them two rooms. Assuming wouldn’t do him any favors.
A few seconds later, he knocked on her bedroom door.
“Hey,” she said, opening the door. Wearing the same robe from the last time.
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he said.
She leaned against the door frame, sizing him up. Probably wondering what he was doing there—if he was able to be honest for once. “I’m doing good.”
A first-date type anxiety crept under his skin. “I also, hmmm… can we talk? Preferably not with me standing at your door.”
“Of course,” she said with a sly smile. “Come in.” She opened the door, allowing him entry, and he walked in, then closed it behind him.
He glanced around the room, restless, a fat lump forming in his throat. Small talk wouldn’t do. He had to cut the chase. Drawing a deep breath, he stared her square in the eye. His heart skipped a beat, then resumed its job, tripling the pace. “Manuela… I can’t stop thinking about you. And these feelings aren’t going anywhere. I know that I was the one who asked you not to talk about that night, but I can’t live like it didn’t happen.”
She tilted her head to the side, without giving away any emotion. “Why?”
“Because I want you with me. As a girlfriend. As my woman. And if I’m way off base that’s fine, but I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. I had to tell you this.”
She watched him, then her expression softened a notch, and she erased the distance between them. “You mean that? Every word?” Her gaze dropped to his lips.
“Yes. I’m falling for you, Manuela,” he said, and it was like a heavy pack had been lifted from his shoulders. “Do you want me?” Asking her if she was falling for him wasn’t fair. Not yet. But damn it, he needed the chance to make it happen.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He took her in his arms, and crushed his lips on hers. He delved his tongue into her mouth, and a shot of electricity sparked between them. She slid her hands down his arms, squeezing his biceps as if to make sure this moment really happened. He shared from the sense of wonder and excitement, and to show her this was real, he carried her to the bed.
His plan was to put her down easily, but he tripped on her shoes on the floor and both of them plopped on the mattress, gasping, clumsily.
She lowered her hand to his pants, cupping his bulge over the fabric. His cock answered eagerly, hardening at her touch. He intensified the kiss, his tongue stroking hers with powerful intent, and she matched his urgency, nipping his lower lip. Thrills of excitement surged through him, awakening every part of him that wasn’t already sizzling for her.
He reached down his pants, and with her help, unzipped them and pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring out. She palmed him, and he hissed, breaking the kiss and closing his eyes to focus and not lose himself already.
Who was he kidding? He’d been lost ever since she came back from vacation—and now, with her, he was finding himself again. Building a connection. Creating a future.
“You’re mine,” he said.
She arched her hips toward him, stroking his cock. “Yours.”
A primitive need to brand her, to fill her with his cum took over him. He reached down her robe, pushing the sides apart, and touched her bare pussy. She’d been naked underneath.
“Say it,” he said, nuzzling her.
“Fuck me, Daddy. I’m yours,” she said in a sexy, throaty voice he could not handle.
