by Emma Hart
“I need a condom,” I murmured against her mouth.
“Top drawer,” she murmured back.
I moved left.
“Other top drawer.” She giggled.
“Excellent directions, yet again.” I opened the top drawer to the sound of her husky laughter and found the box. It was full, and I paused for only a second before I smirked and opened it.
I snatched one out and went through the motions of putting it on before I situated myself back between her legs. She bit her lip and let it go, then grabbed me again, pulling me to her and wrapping her legs around my waist.
I reached between us and pushed my cock into her.
I stopped, and she shoved off the bed.
We flipped.
My ankle hit the banister at the end of her bed, but I didn’t have a chance to say anything, because Jamie was now on top of me, legs either side of my hips, with my cock buried completely inside her.
Her hands made indents into the mattress either side of my head. She grinned down at me, her crazy hair falling in a curtain around us.
I just stared at her—her shining eyes, her flushed cheeks, her parted, smiling lips—then slid my hand up her back and kissed her. My hand formed a fist in her hair, and she moved her hips up and down, her pussy tightening each time she took me again.
Kisses. Hands. Grabbing. Nails. Scratching. Heat.
It was fucking insane how she moved, taking me deeper and quicker as time moved. My hands slid from her hair to her hips, and as desperation pumped through me and my balls tightened, I grabbed her full hips, stilled her, and took control.
I pounded my cock into her, holding her in the same position. She gasped and moaned almost at the same time. Her arms gave out and her forehead dropped to my shoulder. Her pussy was so wet and tight that I groaned every time I held her in place over me.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she moaned. She grabbed my arms and her nails dug right in, and she tensed completely, crying out.
I held her hips against mine and thrust into her until I came, too. I snaked my arms around her spent body, still on top of mine, and pressed a lazy kiss to the side of her head.
We stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other. I didn’t want to move unless I absolutely had to, but Jamie pulled herself up and off me, only to slump on the bed next to me.
She was breathing heavily, and when I turned my head to look at her, she turned hers and met my eyes. “Hi.”
I laughed, peeling the condom off. “Hi.”
“I need to pee.” She rolled over and stood up too quickly. Her knees buckled, and she immediately dropped back onto the bed, making me laugh again. She flipped me the bird and tried again a few seconds later, this time taking it slower.
She managed to make it out of the bedroom.
Still laughing, I stood up myself and searched for a trashcan. I found one by the door, so I dropped the condom in it and retrieved my boxers from the floor.
I grabbed my jeans and paused. Should I put them on now? Should I wait for her to come back?
Fuck. This was why mixing work and pleasure wasn’t good. I didn’t want her to think I was fucking her and running. Not only would it be awkward tomorrow, it wasn’t true. I just didn’t damn well know what to do.
“I didn’t lock the door when we came in. I just did—” Jamie stopped in the doorway, a light-blue robe wrapped around her body. It barely skimmed her thighs, and she clutched it closed at her chest. Not only had she locked the door, she’d braided her hair on the way back. “Oh. Uh, are you leaving?”
“I don’t know?” I cleared my throat when I realized how dumb that answer sounded. “I don’t know. Would you prefer if I did?”
“I don’t, um. I don’t know.” She clutched the robe tighter and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you think you should?”
“It’s your house, darlin’. Your house, your choice.”
I wanted to stay. But I wanted her to want me to. I wanted to know what she actually wanted when it came down to it.
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, holding tight to the robe. She twirled her big toe across the wooden floor in circles, chewing on her lower lip.
“Does it feel weird to you?” she asked, not looking up.
“Weird?”
“Dex, three days ago, we fought over coffee. Now you might stay over?”
I held up my jeans. “It’s weird, I know. I’ll leave, okay?”
“No. I mean—” she stopped, then sighed. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
I laughed quietly, because that about summed it up.
Jamie pushed off the doorframe and walked over to me. She stopped just a foot or two in front of me and fiddled with the belt of the robe. “I don’t—do you want to stay?”
I pushed her bangs from her eyes and ran my fingers down the side of her face. “I don’t want to leave,” I said quietly.
She glanced away, then looked up at me with her blue eyes shining. “Then, stay.”
I dipped my head and kissed her. My stomach tightened when she moved closer, her soft fingertips brushing over my hips. She sighed when I pulled back, and I smiled down at her, loving the way her eyes lit up when our gazes met.
Jesus, what was happening?
“Okay, um.” She bit her thumb, stepping back. “I’m going to get some water. Do you want some? Or coffee? Or…”
“Water is great.” I fought my smile, but she was so fucking adorable when she was awkward. The side I was seeing of her right now was a million miles away from the Jamie I’d come to know.
I loved them both.
Jesus—shit—did I just say that?
No.
I didn’t.
There was no way. It was a figure of speech. A manner of words. That was all.
Fucking…
“Here.” She passed me a glass of water. “Oh, hey, could you turn on that lamp so I can turn this off?”
I looked at the light switch. “Sure.” I put the glass on the nightstand and pressed the button on the lamp to switch it on.
“Thanks.” She flashed me a smile and walked over to the other side of the bed. “Do you, um, do you have a side?”
“Do you have a side?” I fired back.
“Somewhere in the middle, usually. Sometimes diagonally. It depends.”
I looked at the floor. “Do you have a blanket for when I need to set up camp on your floor?”
She laughed, setting down her glass and moving the sheets aside. “No, you’re fine. I’m not as bad when I’m not alone.”
“How often are you not alone?”
“Oooh. Did that hit a nerve?”
I frowned at her. “No. Just a question.”
“It sounds like I hit a nerve.”
“Jamie.”
“What?”
I leaned over the bed and, with one arm, scooped her down onto her back. She shrieked and held her own arm out. Water splashed over us, and I laughed, taking the glass from her.
“What?” she said, looking up at me.
“Shut up.” I kissed the tip of her nose and rolled over to the other side. I got under the covers as Jamie shed her robe and climbed into bed in nothing but panties and a strappy t-shirt.
“You should know,” she said, turning her head to face me. “I hate being touched when I sleep, so don’t touch me when I sleep.”
My lips twitched. “You got it.”
“At all.” She opened her eyes wider as if to emphasize it.
“You got it, darlin’. I just said that.” I took a mouthful of my water and turned off the lamp.
Darkness swathed the room. The only sound was us both breathing in and out, followed by the creaks of the bed springs as Jamie rolled onto her side.
A minute passed before she scooted toward the middle of the bed.
I glanced over at her although I couldn’t see anything.
She moved closer to me.
“Any reason you’re creeping at me?” I asked.
“Um…
I’m not asleep?” she replied.
“And your point is?”
“I’m not asleep. And I’m cold. And you’re not.”
I fought back the laugh. “You don’t like being hot.”
“I don’t like being cold much, either.”
This time, I let the laugh go. I rolled over and moved into the middle of the bed until her back was tucked against my chest and she’d slipped one of her feet between my legs. The other was outside the covers, and I rested my arm over the covers, holding her softly against me.
I buried my face in the back of her neck, breathing in the lingering smell of sex on her skin and the vanilla scent that clung to her hair.
I didn’t want to let her go, and that terrified me.
Jamie tensed, and I knew she was about to say something. “Dex?” she whispered.
“Mm?”
“What are we doing?”
“I’m trying to sleep. I don’t know about you.”
She tapped my hand. “Not…literally. I mean… what are we doing? This.”
I held her tighter. “I don’t know. Do you?”
“No.” She sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“It doesn’t matter right now.” Because I needed to figure out what the hell I was feeling before I knew what I was doing. “Go to sleep, beautiful.”
She nestled in closer to me, pushing her ass right to my cock, and judging by the resounding silence, she did just that.
Chapter Twenty-Six – Dex
I’d barely been able to get out of the bathroom before Jamie had shoved me out of the way to get a shower. Of course, my boxers were in the bathroom, and when I’d tried to retrieve them, she’d told me where to stick it.
Because seeing her in the shower was over the line.
Women.
I tightened the towel around my waist and searched through her kitchen cupboards for two mugs. I’d seen her without coffee way too many times. That meant I was smart enough to know I needed to make her one for when she was done in the shower.
I finally found them in the cupboard next to the fridge and grabbed two. They were both pink with flowers on, and a quick search turned up nothing else.
Good to know she kept the profanity-laden ones for work.
I took a minute to figure out her machine, then started to make hers. When it was done, I set her mug to the side, started my own coffee, then added her cream and sugar.
I twisted, loosening my towel. I grabbed hold of it and tightened it once again. Jesus, I really needed my boxers. This dark-purple towel was doing absolutely nothing for me, and there wasn’t a chance in hell the floral, pink mug would make it better.
I sighed and put the cream back in the fridge. My coffee took the last of the sugar in the jar, and just to be a dick, I turned the jar so the “sugar” label was completely obvious.
The last thing I wanted to do was be here in the future and have salt in my coffee.
Shit. Was I thinking about the future?
With her?
I was.
Fuck. That was—
The kitchen door squeaked open, and I grabbed Jamie’s coffee. “Hey, I—”
Except it wasn’t Jamie.
She looked like Jamie. She had the same blue eyes and the same wild hair, but she was older.
Holy shit.
It was her mother.
And I was wearing nothing but a purple towel…and holding a pink fucking flowery mug.
“Oh.” She pressed her hand to her mouth, then to her chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect to—well.”
I’d never been so embarrassed. What the fuck did I do now? Put down the mug and introduce myself? Did I shake her hand while virtually naked?
I felt like I’d stepped into one of those stupid chick movies I’d been forced to watch by Roxy.
We stared at each other for moment.
“You must be Jamie’s mom,” I said, awkwardly gripping my towel. The last thing I needed was for it to come untucked…
“Yes.” She blinked, long eyelashes framing her eyes. “I’m very sorry to say I don’t recognize you.”
I hesitated before I put Jamie’s mug back down. “Dexter Ryne. It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Bell.” I held my hand out then pulled it back quickly. “Never mind.”
Her glossy lips twisted into an amused smile. “Dexter Ryne. Now, that’s a name I’ve heard recently.”
Oh, this was going from fucking bad to fucking worse.
“I’d like to assume they’re all good, but if you heard it from your daughter, I doubt it.”
“Yet here you are, basically naked in her kitchen.”
I shifted side-to-side. “Yes, well, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d like to put some pants on before we continue this conversation.”
“Don’t get dressed on my account, dear. I’ve seen much worse wandering around wearing much less.”
Oh Jesus.
I backed toward the door, picking up Jamie’s mug again. “I’ll just go let her know you’re here.” I let go of my towel to point upstairs like an idiot, meaning the towel slipped a tiny bit. I grabbed it, turned…
And I ran like the fucking wind. I took the damn stairs two at a time, somehow managing to not spill her coffee, and shoved my way into the bathroom.
“What are you—”
“Your mother is in your kitchen!” I hissed at her in the shower. “Your mother.”
“What?” she shrieked. She wiped her hand on the glass door to clear the condensation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your mother is in your kitchen. More specifically, your mother just walked in on me in your kitchen.”
Jamie glanced up and down at my body, shrieked again, and covered her mouth with both hands. She stayed frozen for a moment before she shut off the shower and stepped out. “No. She’s in my kitchen?”
“You want me to say it again?”
She grabbed a clean towel from the top of the toilet and wrapped it around her body. “No, no, I understand what you’re—oh God, she walked in on you? Like that?”
I shoved the mug at her then snatched my boxers from the floor. “No, I was stark naked.”
“You weren’t.”
“No, I had the towel. But I did excuse myself to put on some pants before we continued our introduction, and she told me she’d seen “a lot worse wearing a lot less” and now I think I need therapy.”
Jamie slumped back against the counter that held her sink. “No, no, no. This is not happening. This is so embarrassing.”
“You’re embarrassed? Your mother just saw me half-naked!”
She looked up at me. “There are worse things to see than you naked.”
“Jamie, I’m never going to be able to look your mother in the eye.”
“Neither am I. She’s here because she knows we kissed last night and your truck is—Jesus, your truck! She did it deliberately!” Her jaw dropped. “It’s parked right out front. She knew I wasn’t alone. Of all the—”
“You said you locked the door!”
She put down the mug and clapped her hands against her cheek. “I did lock the door. She has a spare key. Oh, the violation.”
“Can we remember that I’m the one she walked in on?”
Jamie blinked at me for a moment. “But I’m the one who’ll get the grilling. Starting with, “So, darling, why was your boss and the man you insist you hate standing naked in your kitchen this morning?””
“Well, to be fair, that is a very good question.”
“You’re giving me whiplash!” She pointed at me and stalked into her room.
I followed her in there and shut the door. “Do I need to barricade that door with a chair, or are we safe up here?”
“I don’t even know.” She yanked some items out of the top drawer of her dresser. “Dex, help. I don’t know what to do.”
“Neither do I. Can I hide up here while you deal with it?”
“Oh, sure.” She quickly dried herself wit
h the towel before tossing it aside and grabbing her panties off the bed. “You, the big alpha male, sit up here, and I’ll go and deal with the big scary mommy.”
“You’re no wimp. You’re pretty alpha yourself. And it’s your mom.”
She yanked her bra straps up her arm and clasped it. A quick, rough adjustment of her boobs, and she pointed a finger at me. “You’re the one who made me go out with you last night. You’re the one who brought me upstairs and stayed over. You are the one who is taking the fall for this with me.”
“I already took it. That was the most awkward moment of my life, and I was once a teenage boy.” I pulled my jeans up my legs and buttoned them. “This is unfair.”
“Your penis partially got us into this,” Jamie continued, buttoning her shorts.
“And we’re all very lucky it didn’t make an appearance this morning.”
She tugged her shirt over her head. “So, you have to deal with getting us both of it. Tough shit. If you ever want to consider walking around my house in a towel again, you will get your butt downstairs.”
“Trust me,” I said, putting my white shirt back on and buttoning it. “I will never walk around your house in a towel again. Sex or no sex.”
She paused. “That’s probably for the best.”
***
Twenty minutes later, we both made our way downstairs. Since Jamie had jumped out of the shower without washing the conditioner out of her hair in her panic, she had to stick her head back under the water to get it out, then finish getting ready for work. I planned to stick there just long enough to get through the embarrassment, then go home to change before opening the garage.
I hovered a few feet behind Jamie. We walked into the kitchen to find her mom sitting at the table, flicking through a glossy magazine, and sipping coffee.
“Mom,” Jamie started. “What are you doing here?”
“I can’t stop in on my daughter before she goes to work?”
Jamie blinked at her. “Sure, you can, but this is the first time you’ve ever done it.”
Her mom glanced at me. “Don’t be silly, darling. I don’t do it often, but I do it.”
“No, you don’t. Now, tell me what you’re doing.”