Not Husband Material

by Violet Paige

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Hell. Because I’m not going through with it. I told you. I’m not husband material.”

  I felt the full weight of his gaze. Was he looking at my lips? Tracing them with those sparkly blue eyes?

  Something fluttered in my stomach. Something I hadn’t recognized in a long time.

  “Doesn’t seem that bad. A little family for all that money? Girls will line up. You could interview for the position. Who wouldn’t want to marry you?” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood again. “You are Jeremy Hartwell. Everyone in this town loves you. I think you could have a nice life to go along with all that money.”

  “It’s not going to happen. I’m not interested in having a wife. Or being a father.” His thumb raked across my bottom lip. I inhaled. Was this happening? He touched me like each move had a purpose to get to the next. There was no accident in our closeness.

  I kept talking nervously. “It can’t be that bad. You’re a nice guy. At least you don’t seem like you turned into an ax murderer or anything since we graduated.”

  He chuckled. “I hope you haven’t painted me as the good guy next door.”

  I swallowed. “No.”

  “Good, because I don’t know who he is anymore.”

  I wanted to hear more about his crisis. I did. Clearly, he was in pain. He was driving off a cliff after the will reading today. Why else had he spent six hours getting drunk in the corner booth? But my brain shut down and my body turned on, the instant he brushed his lips against mine.

  God, he had incredible lips. Soft yet firm. Dangerous as fire.

  He cupped my jaw, dragging his mouth over mine with possessive force. I fell into his arms, drinking the wine from his tongue.

  Our lips melted together. Our tongues tangled. Our hands were everywhere.

  Jeremy’s fingers slid under my shirt. I groaned when he squeezed my breast. It felt so good. As if I hadn’t had a man’s hand on me in months. Damn. It had been almost two years. I wiggled into his lap, straddling him. Eager to press my body into his. Ready to feel the warmth of another person.

  “Shit, Evie. You’re hot all grown up.” He grinned, pulling me toward him for another searing kiss.

  My hips rolled toward him and I froze, feeling just how hard I made him. We shouldn’t be doing this. Nothing good could come from this.

  I broke away. I tried to catch my breath.

  “Is there somewhere we can go?” he asked.

  My breasts rose and fell as I gasped for air. He had completely misunderstood me. I stopped because what we were about to do was wrong. I wasn’t emotionally built for a one-night stand. I was hardly built for fly-by kisses, even though I had already given in to his.

  “Come on, Evie. Let’s see where this night takes us.” He kissed along my throat and I heard a tiny moan escape my lips.

  This was the part where I was supposed to tell him what I was thinking. That there was no reason we should hook up now. Two people who sat next to each other in high school English. He should leave for the airport and cool off in the snow. He needed to take that infamous steel rod of his and ice it down.

  “I have an office downstairs,” I answered.

  “Let’s go.” He winked, and pushed me out of the booth.

  There was fire racing through my veins. My pulse thumped loudly. I walked to the cellar door, propelled by an indescribable need to discover for myself why so many girls chose Jeremy as the one to give their virginity to. I could excuse this as discovery research. Was he the greatest lover to ever walk Newton Hills’ streets?

  He followed closely, touching my hip and the silhouette of my waist as we descended the stairs. I thought I felt his breath on my neck. The steps were barely visible in the red glow from the restaurant’s first floor.

  I reached for the light when my feet touched concrete.

  “Don’t,” he silenced me with a ravenous kiss, pressing my back into the wall.

  I spun in his arms as he peeled my T-shirt over my head. We knocked into one case of wine and then another as we staggered backward. Somehow the bottles didn’t break. I was dizzy and horny. My balance was failing me as I walked ahead of him to the sofa in the corner of my writing nook. I pushed the heavy curtain out of the way.

  “Secret spot?” he asked. He reached for a bottle of wine on one of the shelves before he stepped through the curtains. He pulled them closed and placed the wine on the floor.

  I nodded. “No one has ever been here.” I don’t know why I told him that. Did I think it was important to confess in some way that I hadn’t had sex in forever? Did I want him to know that I didn’t have random hookups like this? I could tell Jeremy wasn’t in the mindset to process my motivations.

  He lifted me against his chest. I moaned as his lips touched my collarbone, burning my skin with his mouth. He lowered me to the couch. I looked at the powerful man standing over me as he unbuttoned his five-hundred-dollar shirt. The fabric skated over sculpted arms and landed in a heap on the floor.

  He leaned to kiss me. My nails skimmed the contours of his abs until I landed on his belt buckle.

  He groaned. “Don’t stop now, Evie.” He kissed me behind my ear.

  I was like a woman possessed. I grasped the end of his belt, yanking it free. I jerked his zipper and in one tug his pants fell open, dropping to his ankles. Holy shit. I just undressed Jeremy Hartwell. When had I ever slept with a heartthrob?

  He climbed on the small sofa. It creaked under his weight. His body was long and wide. He had an athletic frame. Everyone thought he should have played football. He had the shape of a tight end, but he loved baseball. He might not have been a professional athlete any longer, but he looked like one. Every sculpted inch of him.

  “You’re a sweet surprise, tonight,” he growled between my breasts. “Maybe you can turn this shitty day around for me.” He traced the soft white line of my bra until he had pushed my nipples into the air. I gasped.

  They were hard and pointed. Desperate to be touched. His tongue lashed over one and then the other. I arched into him, realizing as my hips rubbed against his, his shaft was harder than before. Was he some kind of sex cyborg? How did that even happen?

  He leaned back on his ankles.

  “You don’t need these.” He gripped the zipper on my jeans and shirked the denim off my thighs.

  He hovered over me. Today would be the day I decided to wear black and white polka-dotted panties. When I slid them on after my shower, I only cared that they were comfortable and I could wear them with my fitted jeans without showing off a bulging panty line. But the way Jeremy was eyeing them, I suddenly realized the sheer black fabric made them look enticing.

  He licked his lips and I shuddered. The sexual energy dripped from his shoulders. It dripped from every part of him.

  “Maybe the good girl has a dirty side after all.” He winked, peeling the panties off my thighs and tossing them on my desk. I stared in amazement.

  Jeremy ran a finger between my folds. I hissed, knowing I was needy. Knowing how much his touch made me ache to my core. I was starving for an orgasm. Starving for a man. He growled, pushing a thick finger inside me.

  Oh shit. I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t prepared for any of it. It felt so good.

  He shoved my knees wide, settling between my thighs. He leaned over, reaching for the bottle of wine on the floor.

  “What are you—” I protested.

  He wasn’t seriously going to use a bottle of wine for sex, was he? Oh hell, he was. He twisted the cap, flicking it across the room. I moaned when he tipped the bottle over my center and began to lap up the spilled wine, trickling across my clit.

  “Holy shit,” I groaned, yanking his hair in my fists. I’d never felt anything so incredibly erotic in my life.

  He latched on my clit, sucking and twisting his tongue in circles. He doused my pussy with more wine before drinking from my heat. I thrashed under him, knowing I wouldn’t experience sensuality like this again.<
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  I kept one hand on the back of his head, while the other traveled to my nipples. I twisted and plucked while Jeremy worked my clit like a fucking expert. I was going to spill over into my first orgasm before I was ready.

  He set the wine next to the couch and positioned himself for the homerun. His fingers moved in and out of me while his tongue lashed my clit with the kind of rhythm that was meant for one thing—the ultimate orgasmic explosion.

  “Oh damn it, Jeremy.” It hit me with massive force. I turned my face into the side of the couch so I could let out a ragged scream.

  I panted for relief while the rippling circled my muscles. It lit something in me. A tiny flame had turned into a bonfire. I wanted more. I sighed, daring to face him. He reached toward the floor, this time searching in his pants pocket for something. He held up a square foil packet.

  And I knew then I was about to have sex with a legend.

  7

  Jeremy

  It wasn’t as if I walked into Bella’s this afternoon, thinking I could track down a girl I used to know and kill time getting drunk and fucking. After the hell I went through this morning, it seemed like Evie had landed in my lap for a reason. She was the only thing keeping me from spiraling even further.

  I pushed my black boxer briefs out of the way, freeing my cock. Freeing my mind from all the shit that happened before this moment. I couldn’t think about anything but being buried inside her warmth. I’d already had a taste of her and I knew just how sweet she was.

  I kept my eyes on Evie the entire time I ripped the corner from the packet and rolled the condom over my dick. She wanted the next step as badly as I did. It was in her eyes. It was in the way she purred. I pressed my head to her pussy. Damn it was warm and tight. She arched her back in a welcome tilt.

  I didn’t know why Evie Rossi wasn’t one of the girls I slept with in high school. She was beautiful. Did she always have those perfect round tits? So round and plump? Right now, she looked like a fucking sex kitten. Her cheeks flush. Her eyes dancing with lust. And her legs wrapped around my waist, ready for me to slam into her. Her heels dug into my back, urging me to give her what she wanted.

  But I had learned tonight she wasn’t just gorgeous and sexy, she was funny. She was fucking smart and sassy. Why weren’t more women fun to get drunk with?

  I leaned forward, hovering over her. She tipped her lips to mine and I needed another taste of her sweet mouth. I groaned as I pushed my tongue inside, finding a rhythm with hers. Her little whimpers echoed in my ears. Shit. She was hot.

  “Please, Jer,” she begged.

  I smiled, pressing my forehead against hers.

  I was waiting. Holding back. By now I should have already fucked her senseless. My cock was wedged at the entrance to her pussy. It was fucking nirvana right there, waiting for paradise on the other side. One more moment before we shattered into fucking like banshees. A stillness before the storm. I inhaled.

  I bit her lower lip as I began to push inside her.

  “Oh fuck me,” she moaned as I made it halfway.

  I growled wanting it faster and harder. I pulled out, slicing into her again, going farther this time.

  “Shit,” I hissed, realizing her pussy was like a vise. She clamped around me, squeezing my cock with every ounce of strength she had. “You’re a siren after all, Evie.”

  I moved out of her, positioned my cock at the perfect angle, and with a roar of pent-up frustration I thrust, hilting myself so my balls were pressed to her ass.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped.

  By then we were lost. We had thrown logic and good sense out the window. I fucked her. She fucked me. I rolled on my back, lifting her to straddle me. I watched as her tits bounced and she rode me like a wild unbound cowgirl. Something unexpected and surreal happened in the cellar of that old Italian restaurant. Surrounded by cases of beer and wine, and the glow of a small laptop, I had the most incredible sex of my life.

  “Oh, Jer. Oh my God. I’m going to come.”

  I reached for her tits. “Fuck yeah,” I groaned. I wanted to watch this masterpiece unfold. I brought her lips to mine for a rough kiss before I released her and let her ride, rubbing her clit harder and faster.

  I grinned with satisfaction as I saw the expression on her face turn to total pleasure. Her lips parted with raspy pants. She jolted upright on my cock with the first shock of the orgasm.

  “That’s it,” I coaxed. “Ride me, Evie. Come.” I wondered how many more I could give her. How many she could give herself, using my dick for pleasure.

  She was relentless, taking my cock until the last wave had evaporated.

  “My turn.” I waggled my eyebrows.

  She squealed when I flipped her around on the couch on all fours. I palmed the small of her back. There was something in her eyes as she watched me over her shoulder. Something about those long lashes. Something so sensual and carnal, I couldn’t control myself.

  I spread her knees and slammed into her swollen pussy. She grabbed the armrest for strength and moaned a long, ragged breath as I pounded into her again.

  “Feels. So. Good,” she murmured.

  “Doesn’t it?” I could barely make out the words.

  I was mesmerized. Under some kind of spell. A man possessed by her exquisite body. Enraptured by how incredible it felt to be inside her. To hear her moans. To feel her hard tits under my fingers. To know she moved those hips because of me. That our bodies were glistening because of each other.

  “Oh fuck,” I growled deeply. My spine tingled. The base tightened like there was a big bullseye centered on it. I was going to come hard. I wanted to hold off. I wanted to fuck her longer and harder.

  Because I had to fly out of Newton Hills tonight, and I wasn’t coming back. Great fucks like this didn’t happen every night. My body wanted it to be just getting started, but my cock was ready to explode.

  “Jer, Jer,” she pleaded. My name sounded so good on her lips. “Don’t stop fucking me.”

  I slapped her ass. She squealed. I sliced into her with slow strokes, before wrapping my arms around her chest and bringing her upright. Her back pressed into my chest. I bit down on her ear.

  “Help me slow it down, Evie,” I demanded.

  She nodded, twisting her hands behind my neck. She rocked up and down, letting my cock slide to her clit, before she rolled her hips, sucking it back inside. It was tortuously slow. Cruel. But when she sat on my cock it went so fucking deep.

  I twisted her nipples between my fingers, but it only kicked her into a high gear. Every part of her body was sensitive. As if it was a live wire, ready to spark and burn. She rode faster.

  “Fuck, Evie. I said slower.”

  I pushed her forward on her palms again, overwhelmed by a consuming desire to fuck her like I’d never fucked another woman. I wanted her to remember tonight. I wanted to leave a part of myself behind. I wanted her to feel me when she awakened in the morning. Because if there was one thing I knew, drunk or not, I wasn’t going to forget tonight. There wasn’t enough wine in the world to erase this kind of sex from my memory. I loved a woman on all fours. It was my favorite position, but with Evie it was something different. It was like a religious experience.

  I licked my lips as I spread her sweet ass cheeks, groaning at the sight of her slick pussy. She was so wet. So hot. So tight. She was the answer to my prayers tonight.

  It was a quick flash. An absurd thought, but I wanted to toss the condom and bury myself inside her and come deep. I shook my head. What the fuck was I thinking?

  I pushed into her one last time with a slow stroke and then we were found.

  I let go. I grunted and groaned as I thrust faster. I didn’t hold back. Evie begged for more. And the more she purred the farther I tried to spread her tight little body. I wanted to be in her deepest spaces. I wanted to fill her. I wanted to sear her with my cock.

  “Oh fuck,” I howled. The bullseye in my spine seized and I felt my climax build like a rocket launc
h. I locked my hips as I unloaded my release in that fucking condom.

  Evie vibrated in my hands, wracked with another orgasm. She squeezed my dick, panting and bouncing until her body stilled with quiet breaths.

  I exhaled, pulling my exhausted cock from her. I carefully stood and tossed the condom in the trash. I sat on the edge of the couch.

  Evie tucked her knees to her chest.

  I kissed her temple. “I had no idea you were so incredible in bed.” I winked. “High school could have been a different story for us,” I teased.

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “Uh-yeah. I guess. I’d be a signature in your yearbook.”

  “That was a joke.”

  She nodded.

  “Oh no. Don’t go silent on me.” I spun her on the couch so she faced me.

  She let her head fall back. “I’m not. I’m just trying to enjoy the way I feel right now. Doesn’t your body feel amazing after sex? Like you have new skin or something?”

  I laughed loudly. “Sure. I guess.”

  “Really? You don’t think about it? What does your body feel like if you’re still right now? Don’t move. Just feel it.”

  I sat there, studying her. “Honestly?”

  She nodded.

  I traced her bottom lip with my thumb. That’s how this night got started. With her beautiful mouth. I couldn’t stay away from it. “I feel like fucking you again. Can you blame me? We almost burned the wine cellar down, starting with this couch.”

  “Jer.” Her eyes narrowed. “I meant more in a personal introspective way.”

  I chuckled. “Keep talking nerd to me, baby.” She blushed. “It was the honest truth—the first reaction from my body. I think it’s a good thing I don’t live here anymore.”

  “Why do you say that?” she pouted.

  “Because I can see you being a problem for me, Evie Rossi.”

  She put her hands in the air in an act of innocence. “This was no-strings attached. I’m not even going to ask you for your number. I don’t want anything from you, Jer.”

  I held her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “Not what I meant.” I kissed her firmly. “You’re trouble because instead of running out the door to catch my red eye, I’d like to take you over that desk right there. Fuck you once more? Twice?”