But he pauses and stares deeply into my eyes. “I love you, Mel. Actions matter to me, and you went out of your way to show me that. I appreciate that and I see you. I see you.”
His tongue plunges inside my mouth and brushes across my tongue, sending sparks of lust through my body. His hand trails down my ribs, caresses the side of my waist, and moves to my hip. He grips it, and I press against him, clawing at his pants. He does see me. He knows me better than anyone, and I’m desperate with the urge to be closer to him, aware we dodged a bullet and that I probably don’t deserve his forgiveness.
While I undo his pants and shove the material down his legs, he moves his mouth to my neck and teases my skin with gentle licks and kisses.
Blake slips my shirt over my head and undoes my bra with one hand. He strips it slowly off, gaze burning into mine the whole time. My nipples almost hurt when he palms my heavy breasts, and I groan and push my chest harder into his hands.
He flicks his tongue over my left nipple, then the right. He takes it into his mouth and sucks deeply, drawing tugs of pleasure that seem to come from straight between my legs.
Speaking of between the legs, I pull on his shoulders until he understands what I want and stands up. He’s rock hard, and his hips thrust into my hand when I stroke him through the soft cotton of his boxer briefs.
His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip when I rub him, lightly but fast.
I kiss the corner of his mouth. “You’re so hard.”
“I’ve been hard since Inner Space.”
“I really should have returned the favor while we were there.”
He throws me over his shoulder in one quick motion. “You’re right.”
“Blake!”
His hand lands on my ass with a loud crack, and he rubs the sting away while walking.
I squirm on his shoulder. That was…surprisingly hot.
“It just occurred to me that I haven’t shown you the most important room in the house yet,” he says.
I grin against his back. “The library?”
He turns his head and bites my hip.
I moan.
“The bedroom, Mel. The one down here’s bigger than the spare upstairs.”
My feet gently hit the floor and I straighten, giving the blood a minute to leave my head. I shouldn’t have worried. No dizziness comes because all my blood has rushed to more interesting areas.
He turns on the light and turns me around, wrapping his arms around me from behind so I can look at the room. “Well?” He nuzzles my neck. “What do you think of my bedroom?”
I think I want you to fuck me in it.
I sweep it with my gaze, taking in the elegant mushroom-colored walls, the dark hardwood floors, and the bed—perfectly made with the fluffiest white blankets I’ve ever seen. “This is a very grown-up bedroom, Blake.” I nudge my ass against his cock, making him suck in a deep breath. “It makes me want to do very grown-up things with you.”
Keeping one arm wrapped around me, he spreads my legs with the other and pushes his cock through the gap. He rubs it up the full length of my slit, coating himself with my desire.
I sag against him and look down at the tip, peeking out below my clit before it disappears again. He pushes again and I drop my hand and rub it, releasing drops of pre-cum that I use to circle him faster.
He groans and nibbles my earlobe. “I need you.”
The way he pushes against me nearly crosses my eyes. “Yeah. Give me a tour of your bed. Like, right the fuck now.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He sweeps me up and sets me on the bed before I have time to blink twice.
I smile. “I don’t remember asking.”
He grins and rubs my pussy, revealing how wet I am. He spreads it all over, teasing me with it before inserting two fingers inside me.
My toes curl and my back arches, lifting my ass off the bed.
“Nice girls ask for what they want.” He smirks.
I rotate my hips in time with his finger-fucking. “Do you really want me to be a nice girl?”
“Never.” He bends and drops a sweet, almost chaste kiss on my mouth. “I love my bossy little Mel.”
He takes his hand away to grab a condom from the nightstand. I rub his back, tracing light, impatient patterns while he rolls the condom on.
I spread my legs wide for him to settle between them. He does, but he caresses my face and gazes down at me with too much love, too many feelings, too much softness. My heart absorbs it all and radiates it back.
This is what they mean when they say “my heart is full to bursting.”
It shouldn’t be possible to feel so much for one person. How can I contain it?
I’m not supposed to. The point of love isn’t to take and take and absorb it all. The point is to accept it and then give it back to that person.
Love isn’t selfish. And with a love like this, you have to share the gorgeous burden. It’s too much for one body.
I press my hand to his cheek. “I love you so much.”
His delighted smile makes me smile.
I’m still smiling when he slowly enters me.
It’s been weeks, not years, and yet it’s like our first time. A joyous rediscovery of the bone-deep connection we share.
Maybe it’s been the time apart, maybe it’s that he’s been tormented by desire since he got me off at work, but I need a minute to adjust to the way he stretches me.
I love that I don’t need to say anything to him. He can feel it. He knows. He understands and waits.
Unlike the first time, we know each other’s hearts and bodies. He knows exactly how to move to drive me wild. I know the precise tilt of my hips that whips him into a frenzy.
What we almost lost weighs on us for a moment. Poignant urgency claims our hands and lips, and it whispers against our skin. Joy turns to need, exploration turns to claiming, as though we’re trying to imprint our souls against each other’s skin so we’ll always know we belong to each other.
With every thrust, that fades into something purer.
Soft sighs, tender caresses, deep, slow thrusts.
It took a little while, but we got here. And nothing’s going to come between us again.
We make love, unafraid of rejection or worries or doubts, holding nothing back.
God, his hands and mouth and hips. Every inch of me is loved and cherished, and I know he feels the same.
We don’t need words.
We just know.
* * *
After we do a remixed version of the hotel shower sex that happened in Florida, I remember I didn’t leave food for Buddy because I wasn’t expecting to stay the night out here. Blake drives us to my place.
We order pizza and gorge on it, snuggling on the couch after and rubbing our full bellies.
Buddy has made himself at home on Blake’s lap, and Blake obliges him by scratching under his chin—Buddy’s favorite spot to be scratched. Blake looks around. “Buddy was an outdoor cat, right?”
I nod. “He was a stray. I feel bad about trapping him inside, but my landlord would kill me if she knew.”
Buddy jumps off Blake’s lap and heads to his spot on the windowsill. Blake nods. “He should really have more space. It’s got to be culture shock.”
“You trying to make me feel guilty, Blake Wilde? Because it’s working.”
He smiles. “You know, Buddy might really love having a house to prowl around in.”
My heart kicks up. “Yeah?”
He nods. “And I have a backyard. The neighborhood’s pretty quiet too. He’d be the badass of the back alley if he wanted to be an indoor-outdoor cat.”
Is he asking me to move in with him? Do I even want that? Yes, yes, yes! I keep my tone casual. “Are you trying to steal my roommate?”
“Maybe.” He k
isses my shoulder. “I mean, you’d probably have to come along as well.”
My throat swells with emotions. “Buddy has grown fairly attached to me.”
“Yeah. He’s not the only one who’d hate it if you weren’t there too.”
I clear my throat. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
His lips pull into a mischievous grin. “I don’t remember asking. That’s pretty presumptuous of you, Mel.”
I shriek and straddle his lap. “You jerk! Ask me nicely.”
He wraps his arms around my lower back, locking me in place. “Melanie Walker, would you and your cat please invade my house and turn it into our home?”
“Mel.” I splay my hands on his chest and rest my forehead against his. “Yes.”
He swallows my whisper with a gentle kiss. “Thank you.”
“Of course, we’re going to have to discuss a few things regarding the decor.”
“Is that right?” He smiles.
His house is perfect, but like Sammy Davis Jr., I gotta be me. “Yes.”
“In that case, we should move negotiations to the bedroom. Buddy shouldn’t see what’s about to take place.” He pulls me close, moving my legs over his lap and just holding me for a minute or twelve. Pesky things like time become meaningless when Blake is staring into my eyes like he’s found forever inside them.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you more.” He brushes my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
I nuzzle closer. “It’s not a competition.”
“Maybe not. But if it were, I’d win.”
“Even though I had a head start?”
He nods and his eyes make me believe it.
Epilogue
Blake
I trip over another box and swear, but there’s a huge grin on my face when I do it. Mel’s finally here—all of her things instead of bits and pieces, and I’ll gladly take the bruise on my shin because of that. My favorite person, moving into my house.
Our house.
It took five weeks to find someone to sublet her apartment, but we’d been bringing over boxes of her things in the meantime, trying to make it a casual integration.
Nothing about my feelings is casual.
Slowly but surely, my place has transformed into ours. We’ve started a photo collage of our own, adding pictures as we add experiences together. Last weekend we went to the Met. The weekend before, we headed out to the Hudson Valley. Making new memories together in a place we’re both familiar with breathes new life into the area.
But to be honest, I just love spending time with her.
She leans over the counter, scribbling on her list. “What do you feel like for supper?”
I couldn’t care less as long as she’s sitting across from me at our new dining room table, gently bumping her feet against mine.
“Whatever you want.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Pasta?”
She scrunches her face and tilts her head in that way she does when she’s trying to be casual. “How about we barbecue some burgers instead?”
She always asks me what I want, despite knowing full well she’s already made up her mind. I smile. “Burgers sound awesome. Pasta tomorrow?”
“Deal.” She grins. “Do we need paper towels?”
“You should use cloths and reduce your carbon footprint.” I grab her from behind and nuzzle her neck, breathing in the mandarin and honey scent of her new shampoo.
“No way. That’s cross-contamination and germ city. I’ll find other ways to help the environment.” She sighs and snuggles closer. “Mandatory dinner by candlelight. Sex with the lights off.”
“Hey, now. Don’t be hasty. I like seeing all of you.”
She squirms out of my grasp and brandishes the shopping list at me like a weapon. “Shopping first. I don’t want to get distracted again and end up eating cold cereal with no milk for supper.”
I lean against the counter. “I’m pretty sure I saw a study that we Americans aren’t getting enough fiber in our diets.”
She smirks. “You’re basically a hero.”
A loud meow from the open back door gets our attention.
“There he is!” Mel croons and heads over to make a fuss over Buddy. “We’ve been worried about you, haven’t we, Blake?”
“Sure.”
She glares. “More.”
I walk over to them and scoop Buddy into my arms. “We were very worried, Buddy-Wuddy.”
Mel grimaces. “Too much.”
I check him over. “He looks fine.”
Mel scratches his forehead and he shakes his head, giving a flash of the new tattoo in his ear. We microchipped him as well, just in case. He’s still not used to the collar, and he purrs when I scratch underneath it.
“He was only gone for two nights, but I’m glad he’s checking in.” Mel wiggles one of his paws. “I don’t want to trap him inside, but he feels like my cat now. I like it when he’s with us.”
“He is yours now. But he’s a wild one, not used to being in one place. Think of all the things he gets up to, all the fun he has out there with the swanky little alley cats.”
Her eyes widen. “He’d better not be! I don’t want him coming back here sick because another cat hasn’t had its shots.”
“Can cats get STDs?”
Mel punches my shoulder, careful not to hit Buddy. “You’re the worst.”
“You love me.”
She shrugs a shoulder. “Well, you’re also the best. You’re a complicated man, Blake.” She sashays to the counter and grabs her purse. “Are we going grocery shopping, or are you going to stand around holding my pussy all day?”
She’s already laughing and sprinting to the door when I bend to set Buddy on the floor before chasing after her.
* * *
Melanie
Two weeks later
I lower my head, relaxing so I’m looking at my lap. It’s an exercise Blake taught me to stretch the tension out of my neck when I’ve been on the computer too long.
I grab my coffee and take a sip. Unfortunately, it’s another cold one.
Damn it.
I swallow and glare at the cup, like it’s at fault for making my drink cold when it’s really because I’ve been here for ten—shit, eleven hours. It can’t be seven at night already.
I stride down the hall toward the kitchen, nodding at people as I pass.
Kojak’s at her desk. She doesn’t even look away from her computer screen.
“Winston, you good?” Winston gives me a wave and turns back to his sheaf of papers, furiously scribbling on the edge of a page with a red pen.
The thing I’ve learned about Winston in the last few weeks is that he’s like a duck. You see a duck calmly floating on the surface of a lake, but underneath the water, where you can’t see, they’re furiously moving their legs.
Watching Winston might stress you out from how spastic he can get, but inside, he’s calmly and methodically solving problems and working away. He’s never missed a deadline yet.
Someone’s using the fancy coffee machine when I reach the kitchen. Katka closes the fridge, revealing her identity. “Hey, Mel! How’s it going?”
“Really well.”
Seth emerges from the walk-in pantry with a bag of chips in hand. “I can’t fucking believe our biggest advertiser pulled out with no warning.”
“Yeah, I hate when that happens,” Katka says.
I rinse my cup. “That’s what she said.”
Seth’s eyes bug out and Katka laughs.
The ad change has made us scurry around for tomorrow’s issue—hence the late night—but we’re pulling together as a company, as a team.
My new position isn’t only more satisfying—more creative, less listeni
ng to people bitch—but it lets me feel like I’m part of things. I can joke a little, be myself, let people realize I’m human.
It’s amazing.
I don’t need them to be strangers for them to take me seriously. In fact, they treat me more seriously and respectfully because they know me. With Blake at home and my job getting a thousand times better, I’ve never been happier in my entire life.
Other than the current hairy work situation, but we can sort this out and get the issue out on time.
“Seth, how are the—” My phone buzzes, and I hold up a hand and open the text—from Shelby. It’s a selfie she’s taken from a Jet Ski. Shawn flyboards in the background, getting way more air time than I ever did. Unfortunately, his trunks have slid down and half his ass hangs out. Shelby’s smile in the foreground is huge.
I grin. He went down for the weekend, three days ago, and they’re thick as thieves.
I don’t know if it’s forever, but they’re good for each other.
And if they break up, I might keep her and get rid of him.
I reply: Just like my brother to half-ass it! I’m thankful he was facing away from the camera.
She replies right away: It’s all fun and games until someone loses their bathing suit.
Don’t I know it.
Read on for an excerpt from
Book one in Mira Lyn Kelly’s Best Man series
Chapter 1
August
On the upside, the prelude had already begun, and chances were good that Mozart’s Sonata in E-flat Major pumping through all those organ pipes would cover any sounds of distress emanating from St. A’s sacristy.
Jase Foster crouched in front of Dean Skolnic, groom du jour, and cursed. This had to stop happening.
“You think she’s gonna notice?” Dean asked, wincing as Jase pulled one strip of duct tape after another off the garbage bag of ice currently secured to Dean’s shoulder.
“The arm?” Jase clarified, because while he wasn’t an every-Sunday kind of guy, they were in a church so he couldn’t flat-out lie. “No, man. I really don’t.”
Lena would take one look at her husband-to-be’s swollen black eye, and she wouldn’t see anything else.
Summer Indiscretions Page 25