by London Hale
Needing to get my mind off it, I did a quick pick-up of the living room. Changed out of my jeans and into a pair of sweat pants. Cleaned the bathroom counter. When none of that did anything to work off this excess energy, I headed into the kitchen and unloaded the dishwasher, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb her.
A couple minutes later, the bedroom door creaked open, and Lola poked her head out.
I froze in the middle of putting away the silverware. “Am I being too loud?”
She rested her cheek on the side of the door, her fingers curled around the edge, barely visible in the sleeves of my sweatshirt. “No, I…I can’t sleep.”
I shut the drawer and walked toward her. “How can I—what do you need?”
Darting her eyes to the side, she brought one foot to rest on the opposite ankle, drawing my attention to those legs I’d had so many fantasies about. “It’s just… I’m not…” She blew out a breath. “It’s so dark and quiet in there.”
She was scared. Of course she was. After what happened tonight, I didn’t blame her. “Would it help if I sat in there with you? Just until you fall asleep?”
Her eyes connected with mine, hitting me straight in the gut. So full of yearning. “Would you mind?”
I didn’t answer, just walked toward her and guided her back into the bedroom. Wordlessly, she climbed into the bed, and I tried not to stare as I got a front row seat to the thoughts I’d had moments before. She curled on her side, pulling the comforter over her. Even though she’d covered more of herself from me, it only made my cock harden further. Knowing she was drawing comfort from my bed. Knowing exactly what was hiding under those blankets. I closed my eyes, attempting to get my thoughts under control, then went to the chair in the corner. I pulled it closer to the bed, ready to settle in for however long she needed. I’d sit there all fucking night if I had to.
“Can you—” She paused, her fingers playing with the edge of the blanket as she avoided my eyes. Then she lifted hers to meet mine. “Will you lie with me? Just for a little while?”
It wasn’t a good idea. I knew it wasn’t. My hard-as-fuck cock sure as hell knew it wasn’t. But when she looked at me with those beseeching eyes, how could I say no?
I settled on my back next to her, wanting to offer her comfort with my presence but not wanting to overstep any boundaries. At first, I thought it was my imagination, how she kept inching closer. But soon, she was near enough that I could touch her if I reached out. So I did the only thing I could. I lifted my arm and placed it on her back, guiding her to tuck herself right into my side. She did so without hesitation, her legs tangled with mine, her head resting on my chest, hand settled on my stomach. And then, finally, she relaxed. Her body went boneless.
It was only when her breaths grew even, when I was sure she was asleep, that I allowed myself to tug her closer, loving the feeling of her in my arms. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and fell asleep with my nose pressed to her hair, breathing in the scent of my Lo.
I woke up in darkness, not quite conscious enough to think of anything other than how hot I was. Not a bad hot, like the summers back in Ecuador where the sun beat down on your head and the humidity tried to smother you. No, it was a comfortable warmth. A soft heat, one brought about by physical contact with someone else. By snuggling. A thought that brought me from half awake to fully awake in the blink of an eye.
Connor was wrapped completely around me. Or I was wrapped completely around him.
His arms—those muscled, freckled arms I’d noticed a million times since I’d moved in to the building—clutched me to his chest. So tight around me. So strong. He had his face buried in my neck and one calf lying across mine as if he wanted to touch every part he possibly could. All the parts I wanted him to touch.
But this was Connor…my neighbor and best friend. My only friend, really. As much as I wanted to stay there, to take advantage of every second of my own personal fantasy coming true, I knew he didn’t mean to hold me like that. Connor was sweet and kind, a true caretaker. An overprotective bear of one, but a caretaker nonetheless. I couldn’t take advantage of that trait.
I rolled back, slowly trying to extricate myself from his hold. Knowing I’d miss the heat of him as soon as there was space between us again. But Connor had other plans. He gripped me tighter, tugging me almost underneath him. We became connected from shoulders to toes, skin on skin where the shirt I slept in had pulled up. The trail of hair leading from his navel down into his sweat pants scratched against my stomach, and the weight of his thigh resting on top of mine pinned me in place. A fact I wasn’t unhappy about.
There was nothing I could do, no way for me to escape him, so I lay in the dark and stared at the man I knew so well. He was handsome in his sleep. He was handsome all the time, but with his eyes closed and his jaw relaxed—with that sleepy-little-boy thing going on—he was irresistible. And I was so tired of resisting.
Giving in to my desire, hidden away as we were in the manufactured safety of his bedroom, I took a chance and reached for him. I ran a single finger down his cheek, smiling at the stubble that always darkened his jawline. He called it a five-o’clock shadow—I called it a five-day beard. I’d touched it before, teased him about his constant lack of shaving, but this was different. This was…sensual.
I touched, unable not to. Fearful I’d destroy everything, worried I was risking my heart and his career on the off chance of getting more. Wishing for things I could never have no matter how badly I wanted them. No matter how long I’d craved them.
Connor grunted in his sleep, his eyes fluttering as he pushed me onto my back and moved with me. Covering me. Laying his weight on me.
His weight, and his very hard, very large cock.
I froze, not sure what to do. I knew what I wanted to do, but he…he’d never looked at me as if he wanted me. Not really. Connor had never acted as if I were anything more than a friend. And after last night, after likely hearing that John call me a whore, I couldn’t imagine he wanted me. His body betrayed those assumptions, though. And mine…well, it called to him. I was hot and wet for him already, and not just because of the temperature of his room.
“Lo,” he mumbled, tugging me closer and brushing his nose along my cheek.
I closed my eyes and gripped his arm, something like desire brewing inside of me. Something unfamiliar in my life. It had been so long since I’d done anything physical for the sake of my own pleasure. Too long. I wasn’t even sure if I remembered how to have a normal, sexual relationship with a man. I especially didn’t know how to have one with a man like Connor. But I wanted one. Immediately. Desperately.
Digging deep to pull together every ounce of courage I had, I pushed against Connor’s chest. He rolled, bringing me with him, his eyes popping open and meeting mine as he ended up flat on his back.
“Lola?”
I swung a leg over his hips, making sure to rub my thigh against where he was already so hard and hot. “Connor.”
He groaned and tugged me until I was straddling him. Riding him. Only two thin layers of fabric between us.
“Lo…” Oh God, he groaned like he wanted. Like a man who needed. “What’s this?” he asked as I rocked slightly, keeping my hips against his. Keeping that hard ridge trapped between us. I wanted to answer him honestly, to tell him I was offering myself to him. That I wanted him. That I’d always wanted him. But the words wouldn’t come, my bravery petering out as my eyes adjusted to the low light in the room.
“What do you want it to be?” It was a dishonest sort of question, one that hid my own desire behind the possibility of his. He had to feel me against him. Had to know I was soaked for him.
“Oh Jesus. Don’t ask me that, beautiful. Not when you’re grinding your pussy on me. Please. I can’t—” He shook his head, pulling me closer. Gripping my hips so tight I was sure he’d leave marks. Hell, I hoped he did.
Bravery and lust building into an inferno, I dropped down and pressed my lips to his. Stole
a kiss from the man I’d come to see as my true heart. It was soft and sweet…easy. No tongue, no open mouths or groping hands. A simple kiss. One that had been two years in the making. One that took everything I had to resist deepening.
“Please,” I whispered, pulling away for just a second. He wouldn’t let me, though. Wouldn’t let me put an inch of space between us. He tugged me back down and pressed his lips to mine once more. This time, the kiss turned hot and lustful. Turned deep and languorous. Turned into the stuff of my fantasies.
Connor kissed me like I’d never been kissed before, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with purpose. Every inch of him seemed to tense beneath me as he grabbed and pulled and devoured. I held on to his shoulders, needing balance, rolling my hips against where he was so hard. I was too far gone, too deep into my need to think about the consequences of what we were doing. I wanted him, and from the way he groaned into my mouth as I ran my pussy along his cock, he wanted me as well.
“Fuck,” Connor said as I pulled away from our kiss to catch my breath. He kept up his touching, though. Running his hands down to grasp my hips. Tugging my shirt—his shirt—up until we were flesh on flesh again. The feel of his skin against me, of his touch, had me rocking on top of him. Had me craving that release I had relinquished in my life. I hadn’t come in years, hadn’t even attempted to because of all the things I’d seen and done for my work. Hadn’t wanted to. Connor made me want.
“I need—” I gasped, fighting off the orgasm I could feel building within me. “Connor, please.”
“Take it, Lo.” Connor lifted his hips, thrusting against me as he pulled me down and made me gasp. “Take what you need.”
I couldn’t resist another second. I pushed up, rolling my hips as I balanced with my hands against his chest. He pulled and pushed me, moving me over him, thrusting up every few passes to grunt and groan and make me feel so fucking good. Too good.
For the first time in two years, for one of the very few times in my life, I came. The orgasm roared through me, my muscles clenching in response. A deep, needy groan escaped my throat, one that seemed to push Connor closer to his own release as he bucked in response. And still, he held back. His face was pinched, his hands tight on me. I could almost feel his hesitancy, his slowing down. His withdrawal from me.
“Oh, Connor,” I said, my brain a little foggy. My lips far too open and my secrets too accessible. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Connor froze, his body stiffening. His eyes going wide. I stared down at him, breathing hard. My hands still pressed against his chest.
“Connor?”
Without a response, he growled and flipped me over, rutting against me in too fast, almost out of control thrusts. Filthy words fell from his lips, things like, “You soaked right through your panties, didn’t you, beautiful? Can’t believe you let me feel you come.” I held on as best I could, my legs around his hips, my hands clutching at his shoulders as he bit and sucked and licked my neck. And then he groaned and pressed tight, his body rocking slightly. Jerking. Obviously coming.
Fuck, I’d made Connor come.
And I couldn’t wait to do it again.
I woke in degrees of awareness. Warmth. The sun through the blinds? But there was softness, too. A body? Definitely a body. A hand resting gently on my stomach. Then a familiar scent that always reminded me of summer on the island washed over me. Lola.
Last night hit me with the force of a two-ton truck, snippets flashing through my mind like a flip-book. From the moment I’d found her sitting alone in the church to waking up in the middle of the night, Lola astride my hips, her pussy hot and so soft against where I’d been hard for her. Watching her take her pleasure from me. Hearing her whispered words telling me how long she’d wanted me.
I wanted to relish that thought, wanted to bask in it for a while, but I couldn’t. Because mere hours before, she’d been running from a man. Crying. Sobbing, really. And then I’d brought her home, gotten her safe, and…taken from her. I tried to remember if I’d done or said something to coerce her. If I’d taken advantage of her like some kind of insensitive asshole. The thought settled in my gut like lead, churning my stomach. I’d hate myself if she regretted anything that had happened between us.
She stirred in my arms, her body pressing closer as she tilted her head back, blinked open her eyes, and…smiled?
“Morning,” she said, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning, beautiful.” I reached up, brushed the hair from her face. Finally allowed myself to do what I’d thought about a hundred times and trailed my finger across her brow, down the curve of her cheek. Her skin was exactly as soft as it looked. And she was still smiling. At me.
The thought of her smile dimming—or worse, going out entirely—if there had been a different outcome last night… Jesus, I couldn’t even think about the possibilities. I didn’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her.
In the past two years, she’d come to mean so much more to me than just my neighbor, a woman new to town. What had started as a friendship loaded with attraction had transformed into something else, something more. And then last night had happened…
I’ve wanted you for so long.
Her whispered words as she’d been astride my hips, boneless from her orgasm, settled deep in my chest. Had that been a moment of sleep-induced confusion? Had she even meant to say it? Had she known it was me she’d said the words to?
Whatever her answers were, I had to know.
I brushed my thumb back and forth along her bottom lip. “Do you remember what you said last night?”
She paused long enough that I started to think maybe I’d made up the entire thing. But then she placed her palm flat on my chest, right over my heart, and whispered, “Yes.”
“Did you mean it?”
With her fingers tracing a light circle on my chest, she stared up at me. Trying to get a read on me? On what I wanted to hear? I had no idea. Feeling the overwhelming urge to reassure her, I covered her hand with mine, using the other hand at the small of her back to press her closer.
After what felt like a lifetime, she said, “Yes.” She licked her lips, her gaze dropping to my mouth for a moment. “I’ve always been attracted to you, Connor. It was never an option, though.”
Hearing that she’d always been attracted to me went straight to my cock. As much as I wanted to give in to it, as much as I wanted to roll her under me and make her scream my name, we had more pressing issues. Things we needed to discuss—and not while in bed. So before she could feel exactly how much I wanted a repeat of what happened last night, I rolled out of bed, adjusting myself to make my erection less obvious.
She propped herself up on her elbow as she stared at me. “Where are you going?”
I wanted to crawl back under the covers with her, run my hands over her and feel her body tucked up against mine. Bury my face in her neck and inhale.
Later. First, breakfast.
“You didn’t eat last night. I’m getting you food.”
She raised her eyebrows, her lips curving. “With all the meals we’ve had together, you’ve never made me breakfast.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve also never felt you come on me. You get special treatment now.” I walked back to her and braced my hands on either side of her shoulders, lowering my face to hers. “Eggs and toast work?”
She nodded, not trying to suppress her smile. Dipping down, I pressed a kiss to her lips, then grabbed her hand and tugged her out of bed.
“Come keep me company.”
She linked her fingers with mine and followed me into the kitchen, still wearing my too-big sweatshirt, her legs bare. Through the two summers we’d been neighbors, I’d seen her countless times in less clothing than this—a tank top and shorts, or a swimsuit. But there was something so fucking hot about having so much of her covered by my clothes.
Tearing my eyes away from her, I headed to the fridge. “Scrambled okay?”
“Sure, I’m not
picky.”
She hopped up on the counter and sat silently, watching as I prepared breakfast. What struck me as weird was how…not weird this was between us. There was no awkward morning after. No uncomfortable bouts of silence. It was like it had always been between us—contentment and companionship—but now the cloud of sexual tension that had hung over us had re-formed into sexual awareness. I no longer had to wonder what sounds she made when she came. No longer had to wonder how long it’d take to get her off, how she liked to kiss, how she’d feel under my fingers. I knew—not enough…not nearly enough. But still, I knew.
I desperately wanted to spend all our time learning every inch of her body, but there were things we couldn’t avoid anymore—things we needed to discuss. As much as I didn’t want to burst this bubble we were in, as much as I wanted to forget exactly what I’d seen last night when she’d run from that house, I couldn’t. And I needed to know for certain what was going on. I needed my suspicions confirmed or put to rest once and for all.
After handing her the plate of eggs, I poured us each a glass of orange juice, letting her dig in before I dropped the bomb.
“When are we going to talk about what happened last night?”
She paused with her fork in midair, her eyes shooting to mine. “I was sort of hoping we could skip it.”
I set my plate next to her on the counter and reached out, tracing the bottom curve of her lip. “You know we can’t.”
Bringing her uneaten forkful to her plate, she pushed the eggs around. “I don’t tell anyone…this. Ever.”
“Does it have to do with what you said in there?” I asked, gesturing to the bedroom. “When you said you were attracted to me, but it was never an option?”
“I…” She bit her lip then sighed. “Yeah, it does.”
I moved to stand between her legs, resting my hands on her thighs. “You know you can tell me anything, right? It won’t change how I feel about you.”