by Max Monroe
It was time to take this situation into my own hands. I grabbed her hips and tossed her over my shoulder before she could stop me.
“Kline!” she squeaked as I strode toward the shower, the top fragments of her bun tickling the skin of my thighs. She smacked my ass and back as I stepped under the showerhead, water drenching us both.
“Holy shit!” she shrieked as the water soaked into her skin and very few clothes. “What the hell!”
Chuckling, I set Georgia on her feet and ignored her glare. I reached around her back with a flourish, popping the clasp on her bra and dragging it off her arms and down until it landed at our feet. She was a vision, wet, waiting, and wearing nothing but my briefs.
“I enjoyed last night.” Her uncertain eyes warmed just slightly. “So much that I feel compelled to thank you—” I paused and licked my lips with a wink. “And this perfect fucking pussy.” Her eyes widened, but I didn’t wait, sliding down her body, kissing between her swinging breasts, her belly, until I reached the waistband of my underwear.
“Kline?”
“Shh,” I said into her skin, pulling a tiny section between my teeth. “I’m a little busy right now.”
She shook as I slipped the briefs down her legs and pressed my mouth against her pubic bone, licking the water from her skin. “God, Benny girl, last night, you blew my fucking mind. It’s safe to say I want to do that with you for the next one hundred years. It was the best goddamn sex of my entire life.”
“Really?” she whimpered.
“You. Were. Perfect.” My lips trailed down her inner thigh.
Her legs were trembling, her hands sliding into my hair and tugging desperately.
“Did you enjoy last night?” I prompted, putting the ball back in her court. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
“God, yes. Last night was perfect,” she moaned, her head falling back thanks to my suction on her pussy.
Sweet like candy, I feasted on the taste of her until her inner muscles tried to take possession of my tongue.
Goddamn, I wanted that pussy to milk another part of me.
“How sore are you, sweetheart?”
She shook her head ‘no,’ but her eyes said ‘God, yes.’
“I need to feel what it’s like to be inside you again. I want to feel that pretty pussy squeeze the cum out of my cock.”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Please. Now.”
I picked her up and wrapped her legs around me tight, moving us down the hall and into my bedroom before tossing her wet body onto the mattress. My sheets would be soaked, but fuck if I cared. I grabbed a condom out of my bag, tearing the package with my teeth as she watched from the bed.
“So, I guess this means there really weren’t any painting tips?” she teased, biting her bottom lip.
“It’s all about the strokes, baby,” I said, flashing a devilish grin as I slid the condom on, stroking up and down my length to punctuate that statement.
I crawled onto the bed, moving between her legs. She gripped my ass as I held her thighs, my fingertips branding her skin, and spreading them wider until the tip of my cock nestled against the one place I needed to be.
“Now, Kline. God, I can’t wait any longer,” she begged. Her hips pushed up, urging me closer.
The second I pushed inside of her, we both cried out, losing ourselves in each other and chasing each other’s pleasure.
I spent the next two hours using my cock and mouth and hands to reassure Georgia that sex with her was the single best thing I’d ever experienced, and she gave every second of that time to confirming it.
Hands down, motherfucking nirvana.
“Windows up or down?” he asked, cranking the engine and putting the gearshift into drive.
Reality started to set in. We were headed back to the city, and I knew I’d miss being wrapped up in my perfect Kline bubble. No responsibilities, no plans, just us, lazily enjoying the entire weekend together.
“Down, please.” I wanted to smell the ocean one last time. The day was beautiful, sun shining brightly and only filtered by the occasional fluffy white cloud strolling past its glow.
He rolled down the windows then leaned over the console, grabbing two pairs of aviators from his glove box and handing one to me.
“Such a gentleman.” I smiled, slipping them on and tossing my hair into a messy bun.
“For you—” he rested his hand on my thigh, squeezing gently “—always, baby.”
As we drove onto the main road, the Hamptons house slowly diminished in the passenger mirror and an unexpected surge of melancholy consumed me. I was going to miss that beautiful, rustic house. If I could’ve made a Pinterest board of my perfect home, that place would be pretty damn close. Once finished, I bet it would exceed my wildest dreams.
I was still in awe that Kline had bought a home for his mom and dad. And it wasn’t a brand new house, which he could obviously afford. It was a home he was filling with love and care and thoughtfulness by fixing it up himself.
Everything I had assumed about him had been dead wrong.
He’d rented a Ford Edge, for goodness’ sake. Nothing against that vehicle—I’d have been more than happy to drive one around—but it wasn’t the type of car you’d see a man with his kind of money drive.
A Range Rover? Definitely.
But an economy, mid-size SUV that he’d rented? Hell no.
He was so damn humble and endearing and practical. Every new facet of his personality I discovered, I adored. Kline was one of the most intriguing people I’d ever met.
“I’ll drive. You handle the music. Sound good?” He handed me his phone, iTunes already pulled up.
I nodded, scrolling through his playlists and choosing Young the Giant’s “12 Fingers.” It was the perfect song for this kind of day. I hung my hand out the window and savored the unseasonably warm wind that caressed my skin. After slipping off my flats, I moved my feet up to the seat, knees finding their way under my chin. Catching sight of each mile marker we passed, I felt a twinge of sadness as the distance grew between us and that gorgeous beach view.
I glanced at Kline out of the corner of my eye. He was softly singing the words, tapping out a beat on the steering wheel. He looked delicious—aviators, two days’ worth of scruff, handsome mouth set in a soft grin. I wanted to eat him with a spoon.
A swell of emotions tightened my chest as our weekend replayed in my mind.
It had been perfect. He had been perfect. Kline hadn’t rushed. He’d been attentive and careful and made sure my first time was good for me. And it had been. That night had been more than good. It had been amazing.
He made me feel crazy, in the greatest, most overwhelming way. It was hard to describe. Hell, it was hard to even put it into words without saying things I wasn’t quite ready to say.
Just… God, this man… He was everything.
I felt like I was on the best roller coaster ride of my life. In the beginning, when everything started with us, I had hesitantly hopped in, mind racing: What the hell am I thinking? Is this a good idea?
The guy I’d known at work was a fair, honest, friendly guy but not one I’d ever considered. But then, it had been too late to back out because I’d been moving—we’d been moving.
We’d been climbing and whirling and twisting all crazy, and my thoughts had immediately shifted. I’m pretty sure I’ll survive, because how many people fall out of roller coasters, right?
But I didn’t really know because I’d never really paid attention to theme park statistics.
Shit, I had never really been into riding roller coasters.
Until Kline.
Every corkscrew and curve was exciting. I was enjoying every nerve-wracking minute, and I started to just let go and trust. I started to truly believe that as scary as it was, I was right where I needed to be.
Then, there was that “holy shit” turn when the bottom would drop out and my stomach would fall to my feet, but I was soaring again and screaming and laug
hing because I had made it. I was alive, and this—Kline and me together—was the most real, amazing thing in my life. And the ride slowed just a little bit, and the turns and twists were more like reverberations of the really crazy ones from before, but I was fine with that.
I was happy with everything.
And when I pulled into the place where I had started, I felt changed—overjoyed, enlightened, and knowing, without a doubt, I was right where I’d always wanted and needed to be.
In the craziest explanation, that was what he made me feel.
Complete. Alive. Amazing. The same but somehow very, very different.
The song switched to The Used’s “Smother Me.” The lyrics and the slow, silky beat had me looking at Kline again, drinking him in.
He sensed my eyes, glancing in my direction and smiling. One hand left the wheel, reaching for mine and entwining our fingers.
I laid my head back on the seat and just enjoyed, savored, greedily soaked up this little moment. I memorized every second, locking it up tight with the rest of my Kline memories.
We’d made a lot in a short time, but they were good ones. Every single one.
Before I knew it, Kline was hopping out of the driver’s side and opening my door. The drive had been nice and we’d made good time. He’d held my hand the entire way, his thumb caressing my fingers. We didn’t talk much, just silently enjoyed each other’s company.
Sometimes, words don’t need to be said. Sometimes, simply enjoying someone’s company, just having them beside you, just being in their presence was enough. Plus, my inner monologue had said enough for the both of us.
Since we had spent the majority of the day packing and driving, I was going to stay the night at his place. We’d take the rental car back on our way to work and get into the office a little later than usual.
That was definitely one positive for dating your boss. If he wanted to take you away on a long weekend in the Hamptons and demanded you go into work a few hours later than normal, who were you to argue?
“Let’s leave the bags,” he said, taking my hand. “I’ll grab them later.”
He handed his key off to the valet and led me into the lobby and onto the elevator.
“Did you have a good weekend, Benny?” he asked, pushing the button for his floor.
“Eh.” I shrugged. “It was okay.”
“Just okay?”
I nodded.
He stalked toward me like he was a predator and I was his prey, and he caged me against the wall. “Are you sure about that, baby?”
“It was pretty good?” I stared up at him, fighting the urge to smile.
“I have a feeling you’re trying to get me riled up.” His kissed the corner of my mouth. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“Is it working?”
His hand slid into my hair, gripping the strands. “That depends. What kind of reaction were you hoping for?”
“One that includes taking off your pants.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
His mouth was on me, kissing me hard, making my moan echo in the small confines of the cart.
My hands were all over him, touching his chest and stomach and then sliding up his back. I was about two seconds away from mounting him inside the elevator when the bell dinged, signaling we’d reached his floor.
He didn’t waste any time, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me out, grabbing my ass.
We were a mess of kissing and groping as we reached his door. It took him three tries to fit the key into the lock and open it. We tumbled into his apartment. He kicked the door shut. My back was pressed against the wall as he continued to kiss the hell out of me.
“Kline? Is that you?”
We stopped, glancing toward the female voice coming from the living room.
“Shit,” he cursed, untangling us.
My feet hit the floor and Kline discreetly adjusted my shirt.
I looked at him, confused. What the hell?
“My mom,” he mouthed just as she rounded the corner.
Panic hit me. I was about to meet his mom. Kline’s mom. She was here, in his apartment. And two seconds ago, I’d been about to hump him in the elevator.
I mean, what were the odds? Friday night, Kline had popped my cherry, and today, I was meeting his fucking mother. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.
Deep breaths, Georgia. You can do this. You can get through this without looking like a moron.
“Kline, darling! We didn’t know you’d be home so early,” she greeted, moving toward her son and giving him a hug. His mother was beautiful—dark hair that was cut into a bob, bright blue eyes, blinding smile. I was starting to see where Kline got his looks.
“Uh, hi, Mom.” He cleared his throat. Scratched his cheek. “Just out of curiosity, how did you get in my apartment?”
“The spare key you gave us.”
“You mean my emergency key? The one I gave you just in case I lost mine or managed to lock myself out of my apartment?”
“Yeah, that one.” She nodded and smiled, not catching his drift in the slightest.
Kline sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“Kline, my boy!” A tall, handsome man walked toward us. He was a distinguished kind of handsome, with salt and pepper hair and glasses covering his brown eyes.
Oh, shit! His dad is here too?
“Hey, Dad,” Kline greeted.
The two men hugged, clapping one another on the back.
His dad’s focus turned to me. “And who is this gorgeous woman?”
“Bob, I was just about to ask that,” his mother added, almost insulted that he’d gotten to it first. It caused a hint of a smile to spread across my face.
“This is my girlfriend.” Kline wrapped his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side. If it hadn’t been for the panic over his parents, I might have focused a little harder on the use of the label ‘girlfriend,’ jumped up and down a couple of times—that sort of thing.
“Georgia, these are my parents, Bob and Maureen,” he begrudgingly introduced us. I had a feeling he was peeved their unexpected visit had put a damper on our little moment in the elevator.
I fought my normal urges to shout something awkward and completely inappropriate.
“Oh, hi! I’m Georgia! Your son took my virginity this weekend! You really did a great job with him! He sure knows how to please a woman!”
Yeah, don’t worry. I managed to keep my foot-in-mouth syndrome under control.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” I shook their hands. “Kline has told me so much about you.”
“Oh, she’s very pretty, Kline,” Maureen murmured, winking at her son.
“Can’t deny that,” Bob added. “Looks like you’re finally slowing down and enjoying yourself.”
“Thank goodness!” his mother agreed. “It’s about time our baby boy took some time for himself. He works too hard.” She looked at Kline. “You really do, honey. You work way too hard.”
Kline started to say something, but his father was already chiming in. “Definitely works too hard. You look good, son. And I have a feeling it has a lot to do with this pretty lady here.” Bob nodded in my direction.
I felt like I was in the middle of a tennis match, moving my head back and forth, back and forth, just to keep up with their constant chatter. They were pretty adorable, to be honest.
“So, what brings you guys here, to my apartment, on a Sunday?”
“Your father still hasn’t fixed my washer. And I needed to throw a few loads in,” Maureen explained, giving Bob the side-eye. “But don’t worry, I went ahead and did all of your laundry while I was at it. And I cleaned your bathroom. It was a mess, Kline Matthew,” she scolded.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it.”
“Well, it was the least I could do. But really, Kline, between that and the litter box, I nearly fainted. You should think about getting a maid or
something. Georgia shouldn’t have to see that.”
Pretty sure the last time I was here, what his bathroom looked like was the very last thing on my mind. The bedroom? Yes. Kline naked? Hell yes. But the cleanliness of his toilet? Yeah, not so much.
“Only one of those things is even remotely my fault,” Kline grumbled under his breath. It was one of those moves where you want to stick it to a person by saying what you’re feeling, but you don’t actually want them to hear you.
I tried really hard not to laugh.
“How was the Hamptons?” Bob asked as we made our way into the living room.
“Fantastic.” Kline encouraged me to sit down on the couch before settling beside me. “We had great weather.”
“Had you ever been to the Hamptons, Georgia?” Maureen asked.
“A few times, but not since I was a teenager. It was nice being by the coast. Honestly, it makes me want to live there permanently.”
Kline grinned at me, gently squeezing my thigh.
“What’d you rent for the drive, son?” Bob asked.
“Ford Edge.”
“Sensible vehicle. Not my first choice, but I guess you didn’t want to pick Georgia up in a Focus, huh?” He chuckled, smiling at Kline. “How was the gas mileage?”
“Pretty good,” Kline answered. “Twenty-eight miles to the gallon.”
“Not too shabby.” His dad scrunched his lips together, nodding his head.
The whole practicality thing was really starting to make sense.
“Darling, have you offered Georgia anything to drink?” his mother whispered, but loud enough for me to hear. “I’m sure she’s parched from the drive.”
Before I could decline, Kline was pulling me to my feet.
“Come on, let’s get you something to drink.”
“I’ll take a beer, son!” his dad called out to us as we walked into the kitchen.
“She’s so pretty, Bob,” Maureen whispered to her husband, giddy. “Do you think they’re having s-e-x?”
“Christ, Maureen, I hope to God our son is having sex by now. He’s thirty-four years old. If he isn’t, I’ve screwed up somewhere along the way.”
“Shh,” she quieted him. “Keep your voice down. And stop talking like that.”