Date Me Like You Mean It

by Grey, R. S.

  Christmas music plays over the speakers, and I recognize the song that starts to play, “Christmas Lights” by Coldplay. I only know it because it’s one of Maddie’s favorites. Chris Martin sings that he “always loved you, darling” and he always will, and it’s hard to swallow past the lump in my throat.

  I messed up.

  I never should have gone to New York.

  I never should have left Maddie, and now, standing beside her, I worry it’s too late to right that wrong. Whatever feelings she might have had for me are so tangled up with anger and pain that trying to extract any morsel of happiness from them will only end up hurting us in the long run.

  But what’s the alternative? Leave Colorado without telling her how I feel?

  Stand here and listen to a song about always loving someone and pretend that’s not exactly what I want to say to Maddie?

  I must open and close my mouth fifty times, about to begin a speech filled with confessions and apologies and half-formed promises about the future, but in the end, I keep my words to myself and give her time to get used to me standing beside her. That’s all. Just us together again will have to be enough for tonight.

  It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done: walking her back to James’ truck, driving her home, opening the door for her, and then watching as she strips off her layers. She stays quiet as she hangs up her jacket and scarf. I contemplate asking her if she’s hungry. She still hasn’t eaten dinner. I could make her something, but before I get the chance to offer, she’s already heading down the hall, slipping away.

  Later, as I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, emotions war inside me: anger and regret and longing and this craving that’s getting harder and harder to satisfy. My hand covers my stomach as it churns. I lie still and wait like a man in a jail cell, like a caged animal in a zoo. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep another night, breathe another minute without her knowing the truth.

  I sit up, about to throw my blanket off my legs and walk over to her room, when my door opens and Maddie appears there with the dull light of the bathroom behind her.

  She looks so delicate, like a swift breeze could knock her right back toward her room, away from me. Her toes barely breach the precipice separating my room from the bathroom. Her arms are locked across her chest, a shield to keep me at bay. Her loose blonde hair hangs in messy waves, concealing the edges of her face.

  I sit absolutely frozen.

  Ensnared.

  “I’m not happy with you,” she says, frowning at my bare chest. “For a million reasons. In fact, I’m not even sure I like you anymore.”

  I toss the blanket aside, but she holds out her hands to stop me from standing.

  “Don’t get up. Please. Just…”

  It’s agony to do as I’m told. I don’t want to stay sitting on that bed. I don’t want to give her the chance to walk away from me again. I’m about to ignore her request and go to her when she suddenly starts to walk toward me.

  Step by step, she inches closer. I fill my chest with a sharp inhale as she comes to stand between my thighs, hovering at the edge of the bed.

  We stay like that, not touching, millimeters apart. I look up at her. She’s looking down at nothing in particular, lost in her own thoughts. My hands fist the blanket at my hips in desperation, and then she puts her hands on my shoulders and delicately moves to straddle me.

  I’m so caught off guard, I can’t form a coherent thought as her lips descend toward mine.

  “Just tonight, okay?”

  The way she asks it, it’s like she can hardly muster the courage. Her hands shake on my shoulders. Her body feels so fragile as she molds herself against me. Her silky blue pajama set brushes across my skin, so tantalizing I can’t help but reach up to hold her against me, pressing my hand against her lower back.

  “Tonight, Aiden,” she repeats.

  I nod because what else am I supposed to do? Change the terms? She’ll bolt.

  And then, she kisses me, pressing her lips to mine gently. I don’t kiss her back right away. I like what she’s doing, sitting on me, gripping my shoulders, doing the work.

  It feels so good to know she wants me, to know she came to me tonight looking for something.

  Apparently annoyed by my lack of initiative, she leans back and looks down at me, her face barely visible in the shallow light.

  Her brows furrow, but I don’t move. I let her sit on me, loving the way she feels.

  She reaches back to grab my hand from where it rests on her back and brings it around to the front of her body. With her free hand, she gathers the material of her tank top and starts to raise it up and over her belly. Then she presses my hand to her bared torso, just below her rib cage.

  “Touch me,” she whispers.

  I flatten my palm against her warm skin, feeling her nerves rack through her as I brush my hand upward, underneath her top. I watch her face, noticing the subtle changes as I gently move toward her breast. She’s looking down, watching me, mesmerized.

  She feels like fire, like at any moment, this will start to burn.

  My fingertips touch the underside of her breast and I pause there for a moment, driving us both crazy. Her lips fall open and I think she’s about to say my name with a plea, but then my hand covers her completely and her eyes flutter closed. I lean in to kiss her cheek, then the edge of her mouth. I cup her breast with my hand, and the weight of it stirs my blood. Heavy and full. The perfect fucking size in my hand. My cravings from before come back with full force and I finally connect our mouths, teasing her until she splits her lips open and lets me deepen the kiss.

  I want to haul her up and off the bed, press her back against the wall, and rip her clothes off in one go. I’d sink into her in no time, deep and to the hilt, rocking my hips and making her cry out in agony. I almost want to hurt her, to share this burden of pain I’ve felt for so long. Shouldn’t she be forced to feel what it’s like to want someone forever? A mouth that’s been parched too long. Hands that have been empty and idle. Hips that want to thrust and pound and hurt and love.

  But this is Maddie’s show and I don’t know when it will end, so I’ll play by her rules. I’ll lean back on the bed and let her feel like she’s the one in control. I let her hover over me, her sweet body sitting on top of mine, her thighs spread open.

  I’m so fucking hard as she stares down at me, tracing a finger across my bare stomach and then lower, playing with the drawstring on my pants.

  Put your fucking hands on me, I want to urge her, but she doesn’t need any prompting.

  She’s curious, and it doesn’t take long for her to slip her hand under the waistband of my pants and glide it over my hard length. I hiss and suck in a breath as her hand cups me in a tight fist.

  I’ve never had Maddie like this, and it’s unreal.

  I’m tempted to squeeze my eyes shut and savor the moment, but I don’t want to miss a single second of her straddling my hips and pumping that soft hand up and down on me. I should warn her that it’s been a while since I’ve had sex, that I’ve never—not once—wanted someone like this and her hand feels so fucking good I could come so easily, but I like the torture of this moment, the prolonged pleasure of finally getting something I want.

  I tell myself to be a good boy, to stay underneath her and let her set the pace, and I try. I make it another few seconds, another tight pump up and down, and then it’s like I’m breaking free of restraints as I groan and haul her up and off me, tossing her down onto the bed so I can hover over her now.

  This is better.

  My little Maddie helpless underneath me.

  Nowhere to go. No hiding from the truth of what we both want.

  I take her hands in mine and roughly tug them up to either side of her head. If she touches me, I’ll lose myself so quickly. This will end in an instant.

  Be good, I urge her. Stay put.

  Then I let go of her wrists and go back to that flimsy thing she calls a shirt. Her breasts are ba
rely concealed behind the silky material, especially when she heaves in deep breaths. She’s more than nervous; she’s scared.

  What does she think I’m going to do to her?

  Make this hurt?

  Only a little.

  I pin her down to the bed using my hips, and then my hands take the hem of her shirt and slide it up higher and higher, not pausing as her breasts spill out of the bottom. Then, impatiently, I bunch the material on her chest, out of my way enough for now, and I let my head drop down. My mouth sucks and bites and kisses until she’s writhing beneath me.

  “Quiet,” I warn her.

  We’re not alone in this house, but I think she’s forgotten that. She’ll forget everything if I want her to.

  My hands start to slide down, unable to contain the urge to feel more of her bare skin. Her tight stomach dips as my hand covers it and then I press on, lower, beneath the waistband of her shorts and underneath her panties.

  She’s wet and warm and soft…and oh so accommodating as I let my fingers slide between her thighs. She can’t separate her legs because my knees are positioned on either side of her hips, but there’s still enough room for me to sink a finger inside of her.

  Her head tips back and she bows off the bed.

  Sensitive Maddie.

  Oh so sensitive.

  If she doesn’t want to talk to me, if she wants to keep playing the game of avoidance, I’ll tell her everything right here on my bed. What’s confusing about how I feel about you? How could you want this so much if we weren’t meant to be together? I tease her with my finger, and then I slide in a second, stretching her.

  Her lips fall open and she whimpers. Maybe I’m going too fast, but I can’t help myself. We aren’t the old Maddie and Aiden. Maybe then I would have taken things nice and slow, but all this waiting has made me insane.

  I lean down over her and let my lips press against the shell of her ear.

  I tell her what she feels like to touch. The descriptive words I use are filthy, and she responds, her hips tipping up to meet my palm. I feel her start to quake as my fingers pump, and immediately I still. She whispers a plea, digging her nails into the skin on my arms. She’s angry with me for stopping.

  Slowly, I start again, but not fast enough for her to come, not nearly what she needs.

  Poor, poor Maddie.

  I was sitting in that restaurant, prepared to ease us into this, but then she came into my room in the middle of the night, and here we are—animals.

  I let her rock her hips against my hand a few more times before I wrench it away and shove her up higher on the bed. She’s been dangling halfway off, so I position her so she’s in the middle and then I tug on her shorts and panties until they’re slipping down her calves and pooling on the floor at my feet.

  I kick them away and glance up at her. She’s naked except for her tank top bunched near her neck. Her skin glows, pink and flushed, especially on her chest and down between her thighs.

  I stand there and watch her as she looks up at me, her eyes so soft and compliant. I’ve given her a little bit, and she’s hungry for more.

  Should we continue then, Maddie?

  Should I push down these pants then crawl back up and sink into you?

  God, you’d let me. You’d fucking take me and take me and blow my mind.

  Well, I want to blow yours.

  With a finger pressed over my lips, I warn her to keep quiet. Then I get down on all fours on the bed, feeling the mattress dip under my weight as I adjust myself right between her thighs. She presses them together, shy now that she’s completely bared for me, but I don’t allow it for long. I trace my finger along the seam of her legs, going down and down and down until my finger sinks back into her. Just like that, she’s compliant again, so willing to open up for me. I keep my finger inside as my mouth covers her there, licking long and slow.

  She cries out and I grip her thigh in my hand, another warning.

  She’ll get us caught, and then we’ll have to stop.

  I. Am. Not. Stopping.

  My mouth covers her fully as I take my finger away and use my hands to keep her legs spread open. She’s arching up off the mattress to meet my mouth as I fuck her like that, with my tongue, hard, relentless swirls and flicks and long licks that send her careening off the edge. She shakes so hard and I keep my lips on her, wanting to draw out every last second of her orgasm. Then when she goes limp, I lap her up one final time then press myself up onto my hands to look down at her.

  Her eyes are closed and her chest is rising and falling quickly. It’s like she’s no longer present in the room with me. Instead, she’s off somewhere else…floating.

  I trace a circle against the inside of her knee and her eyes pop open. She glances up at me with heavy lids.

  She reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck, wanting more, but I pull back and stand.

  She presses up on her hands and frowns in annoyance as I pick up her panties and hook them back onto her ankles. I tug them higher as she grows more and more upset with me.

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  “Good. Neither do I. Not tonight or tomorrow.”

  She gets my meaning and straightens her shoulders, yanking her panties up the rest of the way herself. “Tonight is what’s on the table. Take it or leave it.”

  I push up and off the bed.

  “I guess I’m leaving it then. I’ll see you in the morning…for round two.”

  “That’s not an option,” she says, tugging down her top so it covers her chest again.

  “We’ll see.”

  She doesn’t like how confident I sound.

  “You’re insufferable,” she says, scooting off the mattress and standing so she’s right in front of me.

  I look down at her with a smug smile.

  “I can’t believe we used to be friends.” Her sharp glare tries to slice through me.

  “So we’re not friends anymore?” I ask, tilting my head and rubbing my thumb across my bottom lip. The gesture says, These lips were just between your legs, sweetheart.

  “Absolutely not,” she huffs.

  “So then that makes us…what exactly?”

  Her eyes scream the answer before she leaves the room and slams my door closed behind her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maddie

  The next morning, I’m slow to rise.

  I barely managed a wink of sleep last night after my late-night rendezvous with Aiden. Going to his room was dumb. Staying there was dumber. Leaving when I did…not dumb. In fact, it’s the only thing saving me this morning.

  The way he looked down at me as he stood there, smug and satisfied with himself…the way he brushed his lip with his thumb like a cocky asshole—I wanted to reach into his chest and twist his heart the way he’s always twisted mine.

  He thinks we’re going to continue what we started?!

  Don’t hold your breath, bud.

  Last night was on my terms. I got him out of my system, so there.

  I whip the blankets off my legs and am about to go into our shared bathroom when I think better of it. The shower is on in there. Aiden is naked on the other side of that door, lathering up his tan skin and probably getting himself off considering the state I left him in last night.

  I scurry out of my room like my ass is on fire and use the hall bathroom to do my business before heading into the kitchen.

  Jolie and Ford are at the table. Ford’s jamming fistfuls of bananas into his mouth, and Jolie’s working her way through a cup of coffee while she flips through a magazine.

  “Morning,” I say lightly as I head to fix myself a cup as well. The pot looks extra dark and extra strong, just the way I want it.

  “Hey!” Jolie says. “Sleep well?”

  “Oh yeah,” I lie.

  “Good. I was worried you’d be upset about Brent leaving yesterday. I feel bad we didn’t get to talk about it when you got home last night.”

  I’m sorry, who?

 
; “Oh, it’s okay.”

  “I don’t get it. He just up and left you the day before Christmas Eve? What kind of boyfriend does that?”

  The fake kind.

  “It’s not a big deal. We weren’t even serious.”

  She seems surprised by that. “But you invited him here for the holidays?”

  To make Aiden jealous, Jolie. Keep up.

  When I don’t offer a response, she asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Talk about what?” Aiden inquires.

  I whip around to see him walk into the kitchen wearing jeans and a hunter green long-sleeved t-shirt. His hair is inky black and still damp from the shower.

  “We were talking about Maddie’s breakup.”

  Aiden laughs.

  LAUGHS!

  Then he turns and heads toward me and I freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He looks ready to pounce. Oh my god, he’s going to kiss me in front of my sister! He’s that confident!

  He strolls right up to me and I brace myself against the counter, waiting for it. My hands grip the edge so hard I’m about to break bone.

  Then he stops and peers down at me. His long lashes—the kind that are absolutely wasted on men—encase sharp green eyes.

  I blink and hold my breath…waiting…waiting.

  His smile widens. “Mind if I…?”

  He points to the coffee pot behind me. The thing he came over to get—coffee. Not me! COFFEE.

  I’m so mortified I could melt into the floor. I laugh so loud and so shrill, Ford starts to cry.

  “Ford, shhh. It’s okay,” Jolie says, picking him up out of his highchair.

  Just great.

  “You have such a way with children,” Aiden teases, and I intend on punching him in the arm before remembering we don’t do that kind of thing anymore. Friendly behavior is totally off the table. After last night, this is war.

  “How’d you sleep?” I ask, sounding bored.

  “Oh great. Think I got a solid eight. You?”

  “Pfft.” I snap my fingers. “I was out like a light.”

  “I’ll bet. That sort of activity really tires you out.”