by Sarah Blair
He moved the knife, slow and steady, using his fingers on top of hers to guide them out of the way until she got the hang of it. She caught on and grinned.
He pulled his fingers back, and swiped his thumb over her wrist just once. His chin tucked down near her face while he supervised. Wide shoulders blanketed hers just like last night. And just like last night, she didn’t want it to stop.
“Got it?”
“Not really,” she lied. “How do you do it so fast?”
“A lot of practice.” He kept her hand moving the knife across the pungent garlic. “It’s okay to take it slow at first.”
She eyed his mouth out of the corner of her eye. It was so close. All she’d have to do was tilt her chin just a little. His stubble scraped the edge of her face, catching on her hair. His hand stopped. Eyes found hers.
“Focus,” he told her. “You’re doing fine.”
He let go and pinched the back of her arm before he returned to stirring the meat. The pain raced through her like a soft, silent flame. One second, nothing. The next, there was no oxygen and she was consumed. Her cheeks flushed.
Sidney pulled off her vest and tossed it with Mitch’s shirt on the chair. Then she readjusted her hair to a messy bun at the top of her head so her neck could breathe. It helped a little, at least until she caught Mitch standing there at the stove with the spatula frozen mid-air. The side of her neck stung where his gaze landed.
She grabbed the knife again, and threw his own instruction back at him. “Focus.”
“Christ.” It was low and quiet and she probably wasn’t supposed to hear it, but it gave her a little hope. Hope that maybe this was just as hard for him as it was for her, and maybe that kiss ten months ago hadn’t only been because it was midnight.
He snatched up the board and scraped the garlic into the pan with the knife, even though several cloves still remained whole. “Rinse this off, would you?”
She used cold water. It didn’t help.
Mitch twisted a fistful of spaghetti in half and dropped it in the boiling pot. He set a timer on the stove and gave her a wooden spoon. “Stir.”
The steam wafted up around her face, curling the fine hairs at the edges. She gave all her attention to the pot, determined to keep swirling the noodles around until he told her to stop.
It was all very domestic. She’d never cooked before. She’d especially never cooked with anyone else before. Her life was very carefully curated to one-night stands, and if the guy was hot or made her laugh, maybe dinner first. She always made sure they went to his place or better, a hotel, so she could leave when she wanted, which was always immediately after.
Mitch worked the jar of sauce into the pan and put down his spatula. Arms crossed tight over his chest. He faced her.
“Seriously, Lake. Why are you here?”
She paused. “I told you.”
“You expect me to believe some random guy walked up to you on the street and handed you this address. Just because?”
“I was attacked by a fucking devil koala last night.” Sidney resumed her pot stirring. “So, yeah. A random dude giving me your address didn’t seem all that weird in the moment.”
“What did he say.”
The words were too scary to say out loud again. Like a curse. So she shook her head. “He just told me to find you. It seemed important and you weren’t answering your phone. So I did.”
Mitch towered into her space. “What did he tell you, exactly?”
“What’s with you?” Sidney tossed the spoon down on the counter. She turned to him, bodies close. Close enough for her to know how impeccably they fit together. But not nearly as close as she wanted right then.
“I get that your wife just died. I’m really sorry that happened.” She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to reach up and touch him. “But there’s something else going on, too. Why won’t you just tell me?”
Large hands came up at either side of her face, but he still wouldn’t actually touch her. Heavy gray brows furrowed over the bridge of his nose. “I can’t.”
Sidney reached up and grabbed his shoulders, digging in. She fitted herself into him, rolling up onto the steel toes of her boots. Her core responded to his, aching, needing to be filled with everything he was holding back. Fingers found the base of his neck, feathering the narrow line of neatly-trimmed hair.
“Please.” The wiry stubble at the edge of his mouth prickled the tip of her nose. “I want you to.”
Strong hands clamped around her waist, molding her to him. Chin tilted down. He held his breath, and she stared into the storm roiling in his eyes. At the last second, her eyelids shuttered, her body went loose, lips drifted apart, and finally after ten fucking months it was about to happen again. After all this time, she didn’t have to wonder anymore because every single thing radiating from his body told her he wanted this, too.
The timer beeped.
He shoved her hips away. Limp arms slipped from his neck. Eyes flew open. Knees, slippery as the noodles in the pot wouldn’t hold her anymore. She grabbed the counter to balance out.
Mitch was over there now, very determined to keep his eyes on the bubbling sauce. And what the fuck just happened?
“It’s ready.” His tone was just as stony as the bulge straining inside his jeans.
“Can I . . .” Sidney couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Uh, can I use your bathroom?”
He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. “Straight ahead.”
Sidney fumbled her way down through the living room and opened the first door she came to. She flicked on the light. Eyes landed on a giant jacuzzi tub, and a bubble of ironic laughter escaped her. She slammed her fingers over her mouth, shaking her head.
It was just like the tub she’d been in with Hutch that first time ever. When one blinding moment of pain had melted into a whole night of awkwardness, and fun, and thrilling experimentation, and she’d felt something good for the first time since her entire world had fallen apart.
Except, with Mitch, well, this was infinitely more than all that. And they’d hardly even touched. Maybe it was better if they didn’t. He might make her explode, and not just on a metaphorical level.
She put cold water on her face. Bathed her arms up to her elbows. Took some deep breaths. Her face was still flushed. She shook her hands out while she paced between tub and toilet.
A faux white bear rug spread out over the tiles beneath her feet. She imagined how thick and soft it would be on her naked skin, saw his body hovering over hers with the light behind his head while he—
Two taps on the door made her jump.
“Lake? You okay?”
“Fine!” she shouted, too fast and too high. She whispered to the ceiling, “Shit.”
She could feel him there, hovering on the other side of the solid wood, while her heart thudded in her chest. She tensed and waited for him to barge in and finish what he’d started under a sky exploding with fireworks. Heavy footsteps moved back into the kitchen.
There wasn’t even a window she could climb out of to make a break for it.
Sidney sighed and went back out. A bowl of pasta steamed at the table in the seat farthest away from Mitch. It wasn’t a big enough table. She sat down and tried a bite, but her throat was so tight, the pasta stuck. She put her fork down.
Great. Now she couldn’t even look at him.
“You don’t like it?” he asked.
She needed to calm her tits way the hell down. Literally. Her breasts ached with desire, and her nipples wouldn’t stop straining against her bra. “Do you have any wine?”
Mitch put his fork down. Got up. Opened a bottle. Poured a glass so full it didn’t have room to breathe and put it in front of her. He set the bottle next to it. He returned to his seat and took up the pasta already wound on his fork.
“You’re not going to have any?” she asked.
He stopped before he took a bite. Jaw ticked. Resolve hardened his tone. “Not a good idea right now.”
&n
bsp; Sidney silently cursed his sense of responsibility. She snatched up the glass and the bottle and went into the living room. A fresh fire roared and crackled in the fireplace. How long had she spent in the bathroom, anyway?
Not long enough, apparently.
She yanked off her boots and tossed them under the table. Then she grabbed a throw pillow, and hugged it, tucking her feet under her on the couch. She pulled her hair down. Easing the tightness out of her scalp with one hand, while she tried to drink her feelings away.
“I thought you were hungry.”
“Not anymore.”
Watching the lick and swirl of the flames helped her mind stop racing. He remained at the table, not eating either. The wine coursed through her, melting her veins quick on an empty stomach, and like a dumbass, she went in for a refill. His chair scraped loud against the floor. The other end of the couch sank down.
Sidney kept her eyes set on the fire.
Twenty-Three
There was no reason for Sidney to show up out of nowhere like this.
Mitch rested his elbows on his knees, thumbs working at top speed. Who had sent her? Why? Was Tyran fucking with him? Was this some ploy by Dimitrius to keep him from retiring? Hell, maybe it was all some cosmic joke to drive him insane.
He checked on Sidney from the corner of his eye. Her hair draped in front of her face, shimmering in the firelight. She wasn’t even his type. He preferred blondes.
Usually.
It was simple. He had to draw the line and explain to her why they couldn’t cross it. There were reasons. They were good ones. He just didn’t have enough blood left in his brain to figure out what they were right now.
He took a deep breath. Opened his mouth to jump in. But she turned to him with eyes he could drown in, and he forgot everything he was about to say.
“What were you thinking at New Year’s?” she asked.
His mind reeled. “New Year’s?”
“Did you kiss me because you wanted to?” Her hair fell loose and wild in a froth of waves over her shoulders. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and there was a hint of cleavage in the deep vee of her shirt that he tried really hard not to notice. “Or did you kiss me because it was midnight and you felt obligated?”
Shit. Shit.
“Lake, I—” He tucked his chin. Swallowed. Clenched his hands together. He couldn’t lie. But he couldn’t tell the truth either. “I don’t know how to answer that question.”
His mind screamed at him, chickenshit!
“How about the truth?” Her chin wavered and he couldn’t stand it. “Don’t I deserve that? Because for half my life, I’ve been told that everything I think and feel is wrong. Monsters don’t exist. ‘It’s all in your head, Sidney. Nothing that’s inside of you is real.’
“But you never told me that. You were the only one who’s ever made me not feel like that. And I swear if you sit there and try to fucking lie to me now because you think you’re supposed to, because you’re my boss or—”
“Stop.” He cut her off. Throat tight, heart hammering. He took the glass out of her hands and put it aside. Threw the pillow on the floor and finally there was nothing between them anymore.
Mitch curled his hand around the base of her skull. Hair flowed like molten copper through his fingers and it felt so much better than he’d ever imagined. She softened under his touch. A tear fell on her cheek and he wanted to kiss it away, but not yet. He had to make things clear.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to say those things. I’m supposed to tell you we can’t do this because it’s wildly inappropriate. Because I’m your boss. And I’m a helluva lot older than you. And I’m supposed to know better, and do better.” He took her waist and brought her into him, inhaling the salty essence of her tears. “The thing is, I can’t lie to you, either. I can’t. I would never.”
A little whimper left her and it nearly unraveled him. She loosened in his arms, easing closer. Narrow forehead resting against his. He tasted her tears.
“But you have to know, sweetheart. The truth of it all is, I’m terrified.” His own breath hitched. He buried his face in her hair. Closed his eyes and touched his lips to the delicate swirl of her ear. “I’m so scared you’re going to end up in pieces, and it’s gonna be my fault. I can’t take that risk with you. You’re too important.”
“But, I’ve already been broken. In the worst way possible.” She pulled back a little and he stared into the endless green depths of her eyes and found tiny shining flecks of gold that he’d never noticed before. “I put myself back together, but I couldn’t have done it without you. I’m going to fuck up and get broken a lot. It’ll never be because of you, though. You’re my glue.”
“Sidney—”
Her mouth covered his and there was nothing else he could say, even if he wanted to. Even if he could think of anything else other than the way her tongue swept inside him. It wasn’t going to happen though. There was nothing else. Nothing but the smooth lines of her body and the way her chest rose and fell, and crushed against his.
He was gone. Completely. Utterly.
The world vanished around them in a fumbling tangle of clothes and then the heat of the fire warmed her impossibly soft skin. He learned quick enough that fingertips digging into the supple part of her ass would get him a low, sensual moan, while teeth on her nipples would elicit a sharp open-mouthed shout.
Her body was heady and giving. It was fun to play and be played with. He captured her thighs and held them wide and open and mumbled something idiotic, like how he was still hungry and could he eat her instead? And she laughed, and her delighted please turned into hoarse shouts of pleasure and more. And he gave it to her, feasting on her writhing body.
It felt good to have her hands on his head, tugging for purchase, pushing him, grinding into him until he was drowning in her for real. None of it mattered, because who gave a shit about breathing anyway?
The fire swirled orange and yellow across her skin, and he watched her chest heave with screams of pleasure, then rise and fall slower and slower. Her eyelids shuttered, then flickered and rolled with things only her mind could see. His cock bobbed heavy against her bare thigh where her leg rested across his lap. He ran his palm in gentle strokes between her knee and her hip, soothing her raucous dreams in the only way he knew how.
It was peaceful, the waiting. He didn’t mind it, even though he ached and throbbed with need. After going so long without anyone, the sting of desire was as good as it was painful. Mostly, he was just glad he could still feel it. Feel anything. Especially something this good. He trailed his hand down and kept going this time until he rested his palm on the soft dip of her belly.
Sidney’s hand came to rest over his and squeezed. He glanced down to find her mouth curved into a gentle smile. It was the first time he’d ever seen her like that. Content. It satisfied him deeply to be the one who made it happen. One jeweled eye cracked and squinted at him, then shuttered again.
“Mm.” She tilted her head back and her body went taut in a full stretch. “How are you so stupid sexy?”
Mitch checked his body. What she could possibly see in his fifty-three year old frame that appealed to her? But he wasn’t going to waste time arguing about it. He held out his hand.
“Come here.” He pulled her up and she kissed him, languid and dreamy. Smiling as her hair draped around his shoulders. Her thighs rested on his. Her core was searing hot. Swollen and wet. If she kept wiggling like that he was going to fucking lose it.
She kissed a trail up the side of his jaw. “Do you have a condom?”
Mitch froze.
The blood started to trickle back into his brain. It was a good excuse. He could stop this all right now. He should. Before they did anything completely irreversible. He held her close, trying to memorize her body, in case it never happened again. At least he could have this.
“It’s okay.” She kissed the top of his head and climbed off. “I think I do.”
Shit. He clamped his
head in his hands. He’d just sworn he’d never lie to her. According to law, a lie of omission was still a fucking lie.
“Sid.” He sighed.
“Damnit! I know it was in here.”
In the corner of his vision, she was bent double over her clothes, searching through the contents of her wallet. Her ass stared him right in the face, and it was glorious, and his self-control was already at the breaking point.
“I had a vasectomy.” He dropped his hands and turned to face her fully.
She stood. Hands limp around the gentle curve of her hips. She stared at him like he was a mysterious insect she’d never seen before. “You did?”
“Nothing’s ever guaranteed a hundred percent.” He sighed, and prayed. “But, I had a regular check-up recently, and it was all fine.”
“Oh.” She tossed her wallet back on top of her clothes. “I’m on the pill for backup anyway. So.”
“Okay.” It appeared that she was still working through it all though, so he waited.
“I haven’t had any other issues ever. So that’s probably fine, too.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I mean, I’ve always used condoms. I’ve never, well, you know.”
Ohh.
“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He went to her and coaxed the worry off her face with kisses along her hairline. “There are plenty other ways to fool around. It’s okay.”
A sly smile was the only warning he had before her hand wrapped around his cock and she gave him a tug. She turned her face, pressed a kiss into his palm, then slid to her knees in front of him. His heart stuttered in his chest.
If he was going to have a heart attack, God, please, at least let it be at the end and not before it even started. Her tongue circled the flushed tip of his cock and licked off the clear fluid there, and she acted like he was the best fucking soft-serve she’d ever tasted.
She cradled his cock on her tongue. He disappeared inside her mouth. Then her nostrils flared and his tip hit the back of her throat, and her hand clamped down on his balls.