Her focus was short-lived, however. It shifted entirely when he reached between her legs and found her clit, rubbing it in perfect rhythm to her thrusts. “God, you’re gorgeous when you’re aroused and needy,” he murmured. “It’s so fucking sexy.” His other hand slid to her breast, finding and pinching her nipple.
She groaned at the slight pain that sent waves of pleasure down her limbs. The sting remained for several seconds, but just as it subsided, he did it again. “Come, baby. Come for me.”
She shuddered, unable to ignore his command, wondering how he did that. How he managed to demand her to orgasm. Nevertheless, he was successful once again. Her pussy gripped at his cock, milking him while she continued to bounce up and down through the waves of her release.
As soon as she started to find a few brain cells, he thrust his hips upward, gripped her tightly to hold her down, and moaned through his own release. She loved watching him come, the way his face went from tight to smooth, his lips from pursed to smiling, his eyes from squeezed tight to lazy, relaxed slits.
She was officially in trouble. Giving up sex with this man was going to be the hardest thing she ever did.
She was panting as she let herself melt over his chest, her limp body on top of his, her pussy still gripping his cock. But panting was always good when it came to him. “If we do that often enough, I think I’ll be able to call it my daily workout and skip the gym,” she murmured.
He chuckled, the vibrations running through her. “We can do that, but it will require you meeting me on my lunch break. Oh, and you’ll probably have to spend most of the time on top for it to count. But hey, leg exercises won’t be necessary.”
She giggled. “Cardio is about all I’ve ever managed. Trust me, leg lifts are not on my shortlist. In fact, my legs are going to be sore from the aerobic exercise I just did.”
“Nothing a hot bath won’t fix.”
She yelped when he rolled them over, him still inside her. She giggled though when he rose off the bed, cupping her ass, maintaining their connection as he carried her into the attached bath. She held on to his neck, wrapping her legs around him. “We gonna stay like this while we shower?”
“That might be more than I can manage,” he teased. “Besides, I’m going to set you in the tub. I meant it. I’ll make coffee while you soak.” He finally lifted her off his cock and set her on her feet. He cupped her face and kissed her gently, holding her gaze. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” she returned.
He started the water running and put the stopper in before disposing of the condom in a tissue.
“You’re seriously going to spoil me like this? It’s a bad idea. I’ll expect morning sex, baths, and coffee every Saturday morning,” she added before realizing her implication.
He wiggled his brows. “Nothing would make me happier.”
“Deacon…” Now that she wasn’t filled with his mind-numbing cock, her brain reminded her this game was dangerous.
He cupped her face. “Baby, don’t think. Just take a bath. Luxuriate. Let me pamper you. Starting next week, I won’t have time to pamper anyone again for several years. What time do toddlers get up on Saturday mornings anyway?”
She laughed. “You are in so much trouble.”
“Eight? Nine?”
“I hope you’re joking. Probably six. If you’re planning to move them in on Friday, next Saturday will not start with morning sex, bubble baths, and coffee.” As much as she hated that thought, she could so totally picture Deacon waking up on Saturday mornings to the scamper of little feet as they ran into his room at the crack of dawn, jumping onto his bed, bouncing on his mattress, demanding that he get up and make them pancakes. The vision made her smile.
“What are you grinning about, imp? Picturing my quick demise as I descend into fatherhood with no transition?”
“Yep. But you’re going to do great.” She leaned up and kissed him before stepping into the tub and groaning as she leaned back and let the warm water wash over her skin. It felt amazing, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the relaxation. At least until she heard the shower come on. At that point, she couldn’t resist watching Deacon step into the glass enclosure. Nor did she blink often while he reached for the shampoo and lifted his arms to rub it onto his scalp. The man was ripped. With his arms lifted, every muscle was on display, including his still-erect cock.
She watched the entire show, absently running her hands over her breasts while he stroked his cock clean and then bent down to lather his legs. She might have been drooling, and possibly moaning, when he finally turned off the water and stepped out.
He shot her a cocky grin. “How was the show?”
“Amazing. I won’t be able to enjoy that next Saturday either.” She sighed dramatically, but all in fun. Would she still be here next Saturday? No. Of course not. That would be confusing to the kids. She would need to make other arrangements before they arrived.
He draped the towel over the rack and leaned over her, his hand gripping the other side of the tub as he brought them face to face. He was still gloriously naked, his cock bobbing in front of her. “Your brow just furrowed. Stop thinking. I insist. Saturday is a week away. Let me have every second of those seven days. We’ll see what happens. Okay?”
She pursed her lips and nodded though she didn’t think there was anything to consider. She couldn’t be here in his home playing house starting Friday. Besides the kids, what would his mother think? It would be beyond inappropriate.
Deacon shoved off the tub and turned to leave the room. Watching his fine ass as he left was not a hardship. He didn’t shut the door either.
With a long heavy sigh, she grabbed the body soap from the side of the tub, washed her body, then leaned back and closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, the scent of coffee was wafting toward her, and she lifted out a hand without opening her eyes.
Deacon chuckled. “I guess it won’t kill you if you spill it.”
“Nope.” She peeked at him as she brought it to her lips, moaning around the first sip. “You are a God.” He was dressed now. Jeans. Designer black T-shirt. Hair slicked back. Sexy. God, so sexy. He was sexy when he was in the shower. Sexy when he leaned over her naked, and still sexy dressed and ready for the day.
He wiggled his brows. “Am I now?”
She shrugged. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late. You can’t take it back. And since I’m a deity, I get to say what we do today.”
“Is that so?” Their banter was so fun. So light and easy. When she wasn’t thinking about the future, which he’d made clear was one of his goals.
“Yes. It’s my last Saturday as a childless man. We’re going to have some fun.”
“Well, since I’m officially on leave, I guess I’m in.”
Deacon held up a towel.
“Anxious?”
“Yep.”
She giggled as she set the coffee down on the side of the tub and rose, letting him wrap her in the linen. “You spoil me.”
“It’s all part of my evil plan to lure you into my web and keep you.”
It was hard to be angry with him, and it would do no good to continue arguing. She knew she shouldn’t pretend all was hunky-dory in Romanceland, but Deacon made it so hard to say no, and she didn’t want to. She wanted this. She wanted to pretend for as long as she could that this was real. That she could have a future like he offered. “Give me thirty minutes to get ready, and I’m all yours.”
He grabbed her arm as she started to leave the bathroom and tugged her back so that their chests collided. He planted his hand on the small of her back and brought her face to his. “I like the sound of that.” He kissed her, then released her before she had a chance to respond, which was probably for the best.
Raeann’s heart was beating hard as she padded into the bedroom and made her way to her larger suitcase. She smiled when she found it on its side, spread open. Deacon was so damn thoughtful. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a
white camisole, along with a white lace bra-and-panty set. If she was going to sleep in Deacon’s bed and spend the day with him, she wanted to feel sexy all day.
As an added bonus, he was leaning in the doorway to the bathroom when she turned around. Watching her. So, she dropped the towel on the end of the bed and proceeded to give him a show. After all, it was his turn. She’d gotten the shower show. He would get the dressing show.
She stepped into the panties first, easing them up over her hips and into place with a shimmy. She picked up the bra next and slid the straps over her arms, glancing at him and catching him grinning. She flushed when he adjusted his cock in his jeans but continued, going for the jeans next, taking her time to tug them over her butt before zipping and buttoning them. The camisole was next. It cupped her breasts as she smoothed the stretchy fabric down over her jeans.
“I’m convinced you wear those tight shirt thingies to torment me.”
She giggled. “Maybe. Does it work?”
“Definitely.”
She grabbed a navy crocheted sweater out of her suitcase next and draped it over the camisole. It had a loose pattern, which meant it didn’t hide the curve of her breasts at all. She felt sexy in it, and judging by the look on Deacon’s face, he agreed.
As she returned to the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup, she set both palms on his chest and rose onto her tiptoes. She planted a flirty kiss on his lips and left him standing there. Why couldn’t life be simple? If only this could be her life. She’d take it in a heartbeat. Deacon and his family. But that wasn’t what was in the cards for her. She reminded herself that she was a liability to them. No matter how badly Deacon wanted to ignore her problems, they were not going away. Not ever. She would never forgive herself if she took him up on his offer, moved into his life, and caused something to happen to the kids. Or worse. What if she developed schizophrenia and Deacon had one more person he had to take care of?
It was out of the question, and she had to shake the sadness as she picked up the blow dryer. She wouldn’t let thoughts like that ruin their day. He wanted an amazing last Saturday as a childless man, and she was going to give it to him.
Chapter 20
Raeann let herself play house with Deacon for the entire week. Other than their day trip on Saturday, she didn’t leave his house. They’d left the city and driven to a small town to eat in quaint restaurants and window shop. Carefree. Fun.
After Saturday’s escape, they’d settled into a groove. While he was at work, she spent her days looking through the available apartment selections in Denver and touching base with the lawyer who was helping her change her name. They were still waiting on a court date.
As an added bonus for Deacon, she made dinner every night. The first night when he’d arrived home, she’d spun around from the stove, pointed a spatula at him, and said, “Not one word about me being all domestic or how much you like coming home to a barefoot woman cooking or how good I look in your kitchen or any other misogynistic crap. If you do, you won’t get this treatment again.” She’d narrowed her gaze and shaken the spatula.
His eyes had widened, hands in the air in surrender. Lucky for him, he hadn’t said a single thing. He had, however, silently sauntered toward her, wrapped his arms around her from behind, and kissed her neck. Her heart rate had picked up as he continued to nuzzle her, and by the time he released her to pad from the room, she’d forgotten what she’d been cooking.
Their evenings were relaxed. They easily fell into a routine that involved Deacon helping her clean the kitchen, the two of them getting cozy on the couch in front of the television, and finally the most amazing sex that rocked her world and left her reeling.
She was probably doing herself a disservice and making it so that it would be even harder to leave him, but she couldn’t resist. She would bank every memory for later. A week pretending she was normal. And though she’d warned him not to say a word about her domesticity, she found she enjoyed it more than she’d expected.
When she’d been younger, cooking and cleaning had always been a chore she’d endured. She’d had no other options. Her mother had been domestic only sporadically when she was in a good place emotionally. At least from that Raeann had learned how to manage a house. She wasn’t very old when she started taking care of everything. It had drained her and left her lonely.
Now, it was different. For one thing, she had this weird time on her hands. Since she wasn’t working, she didn’t feel rushed all the time. She chose fun meals and spent half the afternoon concocting them. For another thing, Deacon was extremely appreciative. He never cracked a joke, thank God, but he did moan around his food and wax poetically about every meal.
Thursday night she made marinated pork chops, mashed potatoes, and steamed green beans. When Deacon walked in the door, he took a deep breath and groaned. “God, that smells good.” He came to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind—which had somehow become his thing. After nibbling around her ear, he whispered. “I’m spoiled.”
“Yeah.” After tonight, he was on his own. The thought settled like a rock in her stomach. She had forced herself not to think about it for more than fleeting moments all week, but tomorrow, among the mayhem, she needed to find another place to stay. It wouldn’t be forever. Just for a few weeks. She could ask one of her friends if she could sleep on her couch.
The air grew thicker as they ate and put everything in the dishwasher. She hadn’t discussed her plans with Deacon, partly because she didn’t really have any, but she assumed he realized she would be leaving tomorrow.
Except for her toothbrush, she hadn’t unpacked anything. She’d used her clothes out of her suitcase and kept everything sort of packed. Deacon hadn’t said a word, though he had casually emptied two drawers and moved his stuff to one side of the closet.
When the kitchen was back in order, Raeann turned around and broached the subject. “What’s your plan for tomorrow?”
“I’ve rented a moving truck for the day. I’ll go to my parents, break down the kid’s furniture, and bring it back here to reassemble. Hopefully, it won’t take all day, but I can’t be sure.”
“Can any of the guys help you?”
“No. The office is going to be short-handed as it is. It’s not the ideal day for me to take off. Jake understands though. They’ll figure things out. Neil will cover for me on the project I was finishing up.” He shoved away from where his hip was resting against the island and came to her, setting his hands on the counter at both sides, trapping her in the circle of his arms. “I was hoping you would come with me. Help me with the smaller things. Boxes of clothes and baby stuff.” He lifted a brow.
She swallowed back emotion. Was that wise? If she spent the day helping him move his niece and nephew in, would she end up feeling like she belonged? The visual in her head made her bite her lip. As if she were part of his little family. Again, it was dangerous territory. She could get hooked. She didn’t have that luxury. Already the memories were going to cause her to curl up in a ball in her new apartment. It was going to take months to undo the damage of staying here for a week. She shouldn’t extend her newfound domestic side any further.
In her hesitation to respond, Deacon slid his hands to her biceps and ran them up and down her skin. “Talk to me.”
She shrugged and looked down. “Deacon, I could help you, but it would feel like I’m homing in on your family.”
He lifted her chin. His brow was furrowed. “Baby, you’re not homing in on anything. I want you here. I know we’ve skirted this topic all week, and I did it on purpose to give you time, but my reality is about to come crashing down around me tomorrow, so we should probably discuss it.”
She wiggled free of him and ducked under his arm to give herself some space. It was hard to think when he was so close. She headed for the other side of the island and leaned against it, facing him. “There’s nothing to discuss, Deacon. This has been the best week of my life. I’ll forever be grateful to you, but I can’t s
tay here after tonight. Surely you realize that. It would be confusing to the kids. They need to understand who’s in their lives and who isn’t. I’m not.”
Deacon ran a hand over his hair and leaned against the other side of the island. They were only a few feet apart, but it was enough of a barrier to allow her to think clearly. “Don’t go. Please.”
She groaned. “I don’t have a choice. If I stay here, Katia and Teddy will be confused when I leave.”
“They are one and three, Rae. They’ll be fine.”
She shook her head. “They’re impressionable. They need stability. From you.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay, listen. As a friend. I’m asking you as my friend to please help me tomorrow. My mom will be busy corralling the kids and keeping track of my dad. It will go much faster if I have a second set of hands to get everything packed and moved and put back together before the kids need to go to bed.”
Raeann sighed. He made it so hard to say no to him.
“They’ve already met you. They know you’re my friend. I’m not going to raise them in a vacuum. Obviously, I’ll have friends around to help me all the time. Tomorrow that will include you.” He rounded the island slowly.
She pursed her lips. Why did he always sound so reasonable? He so easily broke down her walls. He was right. No one would question her helping move the furniture tomorrow, and what else did she have to do? Why would she leave him to do it all alone when he’d been so nice to let her stay here for a week? It was irrational and selfish.
He didn’t touch her, but he leaned a hip next to hers.
She lifted her gaze. “You’re right.”
His face was tight, brows drawn slightly together.
She leaned her forehead against his chest and grabbed his waist. “I’m overthinking. Of course, I’ll help you tomorrow.”
He kissed the top of her head and slid his hands to her hips. “I need you.”
Takeoff (Open Skies Book 5) Page 14