No Reservations: A Fusion Novella

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No Reservations: A Fusion Novella Page 5

by Kristen Proby


  He tilts his head, watching me. “You know, I can deal with a lot of things, but I will not deal with you cheapening whatever this is between us. It’s not conventional, it’s absolutely not traditional, but it’s not cheap.”

  “No, I wouldn’t call it cheap. I’d call it sex.”

  I stand my ground on this one. I have no intention of dating Chase. I need to get my head wrapped around the fact that I’m screwing him on a semi-regular basis.

  “Okay,” he says with a shrug. “If you don’t want to eat with me, that’s fine.”

  “I’m not trying to be a bitch.”

  “Could have fooled me there.” He winks at me, and I want to smack him. But he turns and walks out, starts his car, and leaves. I glance outside to see my car parked at the curb.

  The tow truck driver was fast.

  I check the time and gasp in surprise. It’s way past six. We were fucking on my dining room table for more than an hour.

  Is that even possible?

  I laugh and walk back to my bedroom, ready for a shower and some comfortable clothes. Apparently, it is possible.

  Chapter Five

  ~Maura~

  “I’m so confused,” I say with a whine and bury my face in one of Tommy’s throw pillows. We’re sitting on his couch, firming up birthday plans. Of course, we’re talking about men as well.

  Because that’s how we roll.

  “Why are you confused? Honey, you’re having amazing sex with a hot man. I don’t see anything confusing about that.”

  “I like him,” I mumble into the pillow, then pull my face out of it and repeat myself.

  “So, it’s not hate sex. Which also doesn’t suck, but you probably shouldn’t do the hate sex over and over again.”

  “No, it’s not hate sex.” I smile, shrug a shoulder, and reach for my wine. “But, now that you mention it, it doesn’t make sense for me to like him. All we do is bicker when we’re not naked.”

  “Foreplay,” Tommy says with a smug smile.

  “Right.” I scowl. “Pretty sure you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not wrong. The bickering is foreplay for you guys. Think about it, you bicker and then end up tearing each other’s clothes off and do the dirty for an hour. On your dining room table.” He frowns. “I’m sorry, but that just sounds painful.”

  “I was too busy thinking about what his mouth was doing to realize the table was uncomfortable.”

  Tommy smirks. “Have you told him that you’re confused?”

  “No. That wouldn’t be smart. I don’t want him to have any advantage here.”

  “Now you sound like you’re in high school.”

  “Trust me, Chase doesn’t fuck like he’s in high school.”

  We clink our glasses. “Cheers to that,” Tommy says with a smile. “But seriously, you should just have a conversation with him. He can’t read your mind, you know.”

  “It’s just sex,” I reply. “And we’re not doing it again, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “Right.” He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re definitely never doing it again.”

  “Don’t be condescending. I can decide to not have sex with him again and stick to it.”

  “Until he sticks it to you,” he replies, still laughing. “Honey, you can’t resist that man, and you know it.”

  “I can too resist him.” I’m scowling now. “I’m a strong, independent woman.”

  “Yes, you are, and you finally met a man who isn’t an idiot when it comes to sex, and I say you just enjoy it.”

  “I’ve never wanted to get married in the past.”

  “Jesus, did he propose and you didn’t tell me?”

  “No.” I shake my head and roll my eyes. “No, he didn’t propose. He did ask me out to dinner.”

  “See? No longer just a booty call.”

  “It was nev—” I stop, thinking it over. “Okay, it was sort of a spontaneous booty call.”

  “Why didn’t you go out with him?” Tommy asks.

  “Because it’s just sex. Have you not been listening to me?”

  “Yes. And your words and the look on your face say two different things. What’s wrong with wanting more from a man?”

  “You know my history.” I wave him off. “It’s not gonna happen.”

  Tommy sighs and stares at me over the rim of his wine glass.

  “What’s happening with your guy?” I ask, changing the subject. “Have you heard from him?”

  “Yeah. We’re going to give another date a try. We talked about what went down before, and I was pretty clear about what I will and won’t do.”

  “So, you laid out all of your hard limits?”

  “I did.”

  “What about your soft limits?”

  “I believe we covered those as well.”

  “Good.” I nod and set my empty glass aside. I’m driving, so I only get one glass. “If he hurts you, I’ll fucking kill him.”

  “I’ll pass that along,” Tommy says with a grin. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that you changed the subject. When are you going to see Mr. Sexgod again?”

  “I don’t know. I probably won’t.” I shrug. “Wait. I still have his shirt. I wonder if he forgot it on purpose?”

  “Isn’t that part of this game you’re playing?”

  “I’m not playing a game. I didn’t forget my stuff on purpose.”

  “It sounds like a game to me. A fun one at that.”

  “Well, I have the shirt.” I refuse to say that I keep sniffing it because it smells just like Chase. That’s way too mushy, and I’d never hear the end of it. “So, let’s get back to the important subject at hand. Our birthday extravaganza.”

  “Mexican?”

  “I got sick on Mexican last time. I need a break from that. What about Seduction? I’ve heard it’s delicious, but I’ve never eaten there.”

  “Doesn’t Kat own it?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean that Chase will be there.”

  “Doesn’t mean he won’t.” Tommy smiles, then laughs when I continue to glare at him. “Okay, I’ll drop it. And yes, I’ve been dying to eat there too.”

  “Cool. I want to get dressed up. I never get to wear pretty dresses.”

  “You’re right, and we’ve added at least five of them to your closet.”

  “I’m not going to wear them to school. I get thrown up on at least once a month.”

  “That’s disgusting.” He wrinkles his nose, making me laugh.

  “You have no idea.”

  * * * *

  “These oysters are divine,” Tommy says, closing his eyes as he chews the slimy mussel. “Are you sure you won’t try them?”

  “I’m positive.” I take a bite of my crab cake and sigh in happiness. “I’m totally happy with this.”

  “We’re only on the appetizers and I already know that I never want to leave,” Tommy smiles.

  “Seriously, it’s so good. And the atmosphere is so sexy.”

  “I can see why this is the best date spot in town. They’ve done a really great job in here.”

  Our plates are cleared away, replaced by the most amazing salads for the second course. “Oh God. I’m going to gain twenty pounds tonight.”

  “Just take a few bites of each thing,” Tommy reminds me. We always splurge on our birthdays, ordering everything on the menu that we want to try. We take small bites of each, then move on to the next. On a normal day, I’d feel guilty for wasting the leftovers, but it’s our birthday, and Tommy and I love food.

  “It’s so delicious, I hate to stop eating it.”

  We spend the next thirty minutes sampling several entrees from the menu, and then I drop a bite of steak on my dress.

  “Damn it,” I mutter. “I’m going to go to the washroom to get this out before it sets.”

  Tommy nods, totally engrossed in his salmon. Thankfully, the spot comes off of my dress easily, and I return to the table to find different entrees waiting for me.

  The waitstaff is
attentive, but they don’t hover. The lights are low, with beautiful candles on each table. Tommy and I are in a booth on the perimeter of the room, with heavy gray drapes hanging on either side, giving it a more intimate feel.

  A person could play some serious footsy in this booth.

  I smirk and take a bite of my pork loin, then sigh. “I feel like I’m making all kinds of sex noises while I eat this food.”

  “That’s because you are,” Tommy replies with a grin. “If I batted for the other team, I’d have pulled those drapes and fucked you on the table.”

  “I don’t think they allow that here, but I also think that’s the goal. It’s sexy here for sure.”

  “Not sexier than you in that dress.”

  I gasp in surprise, not expecting to see Chase standing next to the table with a seductive grin on those lips of his.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “I just got here.”

  “How did you know I would be here?”

  Tommy snickers and I glare at him, then check my phone. Yep, while I was in the bathroom, Tommy texted Chase from my phone, inviting him to join me.

  “You’re such a bitch,” I whisper at Tommy, earning another laugh.

  “I know. And I should be going.” He checks his phone. “I have a date of my own to get to.”

  “You’re a dirty liar.”

  “Enjoy,” Tommy says as he kisses my cheek. “And don’t worry, I’ve paid the bill.”

  And with that, he walks away, leaving me alone with Chase, who slides into the booth across from me and silently watches me as the waitress clears away our plates and asks if she can bring anything else.

  Chase rattles off the name of a very expensive bottle of wine, and I ask for the dessert menu.

  “So, it’s your birthday?” he asks when we’re finally alone.

  “It is.”

  “You never mentioned it.”

  I frown. “You haven’t told me your birthday either.”

  “May twentieth. I’ll be thirty-two.”

  “I’ll put it on my calendar.”

  His lips twitch with humor and he’s quiet again as the waitress arrives with our wine. She goes through the process of opening it and offering Chase the cork to smell. Once our glasses are poured, I order a piece of the carrot cake.

  “This wine is amazing.” I take another sip, enjoying the hints of peach and oak.

  “It’ll complement your cake well,” he says with a nod. “How old are you today, Maura?”

  “It’s not polite to ask a woman her age.”

  “I never claimed to be polite.”

  “Well, that’s true.” I can’t help but laugh, and the waitress brings my cake, with two forks. Which is good because it’s roughly the size of my head. “Please tell me you eat sugar.”

  “Of course,” he says and reaches for a fork. We both take a bite and sigh in happiness. “This is damn good.”

  “So good,” I agree. “I’m thirty today.”

  “A milestone birthday.”

  “I guess. It’s not a big deal.”

  “You wear thirty well. And that dress is pure sex.”

  I stop chewing and look over at him in surprise. “Thank you.”

  He nods and takes another bite of cake. “Did Tommy drive you here?”

  “We took an Uber, since we planned to drink. It’s his birthday today, too.”

  “Interesting,” Chase says. “And he gave up his birthday celebration with you?”

  “I’m sure he really does have a date. Or could get one quickly.” I smile. “He’s just started seeing someone.”

  “Lucky for me he has. I’ll take you home.”

  “I can call an Uber.”

  “No need. I’ll take you.”

  “Have you noticed that we always argue?” I ask and take a sip of this delicious wine. He was right, it does pair well with my cake.

  “I like to think of it as spirited conversation.”

  “It doesn’t matter how you phrase it, it’s still the same. We bicker all the damn time.”

  “I like your sassy mouth,” he says, his voice low. “And I like to shut it up as well.”

  “I feel like I should be offended by that, but I’m not.”

  “Good.” He smiles and waits for me to take the last bite of cake. “Shall we?”

  “Let me just pay for this—”

  “It’s your birthday, Maura. You’re not paying for this.” He hails the waitress, settles the rest of the bill, and takes my hand to help me out of the booth.

  Thanks to all of the wine and sugar, I’m a bit buzzed.

  Or a lot buzzed.

  The drive to my house is quiet and sexually charged. All I have to be is three feet from the man and I want to climb him like a tree.

  And I’ve never climbed a tree in my life, so that’s saying a lot.

  He parks and follows me up to the front door. I don’t bother to pretend that he’s not coming inside.

  We both know he is.

  As soon as the door is closed behind us, he pushes me against it and kisses the fuck out of me, as if he’s starving for me. His hands are roaming over my dress, from my ass, up my sides and to cup my face.

  I drop my clutch to the floor at my feet and unbuckle his belt, then unfasten his pants.

  He reaches behind me to unzip my dress, but there’s no zipper there.

  I grin and hold his gaze in mine as I simply hook the strap in my finger and tug it over my shoulders. It falls to a puddle around my feet, and I’m standing before him, completely naked.

  “Fuck,” he whispers. He’s not touching me now, but his eyes are raking over my body from my toes, still clad in my new black Jimmy Choo heels, to the top of my head. “You’re so beautiful.”

  I smile. “Thank you.”

  And the next thing I know, he’s kissing me again, and he’s boosted me up against the door, my legs wrapped around his waist, and he’s kissing me for all I’m worth.

  We travel around my house this way, not actually having sex, but he pins me against every surface imaginable and works me over with his hands, his mouth, until I come harder than the time before.

  “Three,” he murmurs, then carries me to the kitchen countertop. He sets me down, and I gasp from the cold hitting my naked ass. He sinks to his knees and gives me two more orgasms. I’m boneless, nothing but a pile of mushy goo. I don’t think I could walk if there was a fire and running out of the house was my only chance of survival.

  “Five,” he whispers, then picks me up and carries me back to my bedroom, where he lays me on the bed, shucks the rest of his disheveled clothes, and covers me with his body, a condom in his hand.

  “Why are you counting?”

  “One orgasm for every birthday.”

  My eyes widen in surprise. “So, you’re trying to kill me. That’s what you’re saying.”

  He grins and kisses my left eye, then the right, and rests his hard dick along the slick opening of my pussy, rubbing over my clit, making me see stars.

  “What a way to go, right?”

  I bite my lip as he pushes just the tip inside, then stops. “Maura?”

  “Hmm?”

  I grip his ass, pulling him toward me, needing him to slip even further inside me.

  “Look at me, baby.”

  I open my eyes to find his amazing blue eyes shining in absolute lust and tenderness. He slides farther in, and my fingernails dig into his ass.

  “It’s not like this,” he says, but before I can ask him to clarify, he closes his eyes and begins to move, as if he just can’t stop himself. He’s a man on a mission, thrusting slow and steady at first, then speeding up and pushing harder, grinding his pubis against my clit, driving me absolutely fucking crazy.

  He fists my hair in his hand and pulls back, exposing my neck. His teeth dig in, and I’m lost in him, in this moment. He’s moving fast now, groaning softly, and I can’t hold back. I cry out as the orgasm passes through me, and he whispers six against
my ear.

  “Not bad,” I whisper back and smile when he laughs, then tenses and gives in to his own orgasm.

  “Not bad at all.”

  Chapter Six

  ~Chase~

  One hour and three more orgasms later, Maura simply falls asleep, snoring softly, as if her body is saying enough.

  Nine orgasms in the span of a couple of hours isn’t anything to sneeze at. I’m exhausted too, and under normal circumstances, I would simply leave.

  Hell, I would have left an hour ago, birthday or not.

  But I’ve come to realize that whatever this is that’s happening with Maura isn’t normal circumstances. After each encounter with her, she stubbornly insists that it won’t happen again, but then here we are, fucking like our lives depend on it.

  The sex is amazing. Maybe the best I’ve had. But that’s not the only reason that I can’t keep my hands off of her. Her response to me, the way her skin feels, the sounds she makes, all make me ache for more of her.

  Not to mention her sassy mouth. She’s clever. She’s intelligent.

  And she doesn’t take any shit from me.

  She turns away from me in her sleep, murmuring words I can’t understand. I roll away and pull my clothes on, then tuck the covers around her and kiss her forehead before letting myself out of her house.

  I never stay the night. Ever. I don’t think I’ve ever slept with a woman. It’s never interested me.

  But this time, with this woman, I would rather stay and hold her. It’s getting harder and harder to walk away from her each time I see her, and I’m not entirely sure what to do about that.

  This is uncharted territory for me. She won’t let me take her out on dates. I don’t think she’s playing hard to get, or any other games with me for that matter.

  I shake my head and merge onto the freeway, headed toward home, and plan what I’m going to say to Mac when I see him in the morning.

  * * * *

  “Are you going to shoot the ball or just stand there looking ridiculous?” Mac asks me the next morning. We meet every Sunday for a round of basketball. We’ve been doing this since we were kids.

  “Sorry. Preoccupied.”

 

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