by Michelle Amy
So I did.
A sound escaped him. It was soft and primal and echoed the sheer pleasure we were both feeling. I pulled him as close to me as I could get. His chest pressed against my breasts as he pushed himself deeper into me.
As he began to work up to a faster rhythm I began to lose myself. I was nothing but the sex. I had no name, no job, no goals, no insecurities, no reservations. I was just sex. It took over me and compelled me to move my hips in unison with his. I could feel the release building within me. I grew closer and closer to letting it go as he pushed for more.
When it broke free of me I was no longer able to hold my hips up. He did it for me, holding me to him with one arm beneath my back. The other hand held my hip. His grip was firm and he squeezed the soft flesh of my hip and my ass. My eyes were fixed on him as he moved above me, his hips grinding in an effortless wave of fluid motion. I could see the moment for him was coming.
I knew he wasn’t the kind of guy who would pull out. I had no expectations of him to do it. I knew how this would end, and I was grateful that I never stopped taking my birth control after Jason and I broke up. I encouraged McCoy by drawing him closer by wrapping my legs around his hips. I knew that I could bring him to the edge just by saying the right things to him. I wanted to know what that kind of power would feel like.
So I lifted myself up so that my mouth was beside his ear. I kissed it and nibbled his neck. He kissed me back. He was breathless and as we kissed he moaned lightly into my mouth. When he pulled away I held his stare. I wrapped my fingers around his wrists and held myself steady beneath him. “Cum inside me,” I whispered. He shuddered above me. I became wetter. He felt it. I tightened my grip on his wrists. “Fuck me as hard as you can and cum inside me. Please.”
I could barely feel the stairs digging into my shoulder blades as he lifted my hips higher. He was able to push himself deeper into me this way. He slowed for only a moment, easing his way further into me. As his rhythm fastened he watched me. I wanted to watch him, but the pleasure was too much. My eyes closed and my back arched further. His hand that gripped my hip released me and glided over my stomach. He pressed his finger down on my clit as he moved in me and I let out a cry of ecstasy. This, apparently, was what he was after, because as soon as the sound escaped me I felt the warmth and wetness of him inside me as he finished.
CHAPTER FIVE
I had been shocked and delighted to find that McCoy’s desire couldn’t be quenched by a passionate session on my stairs. He needed more. So he ended up bringing me up to my bedroom, where he proceeded to have his way with me three more times.
By the time he finished the fourth round, I had to beg him to stop. He looked over at me with that charming devilish grin and ran a hand up my thigh. I was lying on my side facing him with one arm under my pillow. I was sure that my mascara was all over my face. All my lipstick was most definitely gone. I probably looked like a mess. But he smiled at me anyways.
“Can’t handle it?” He asked as he propped his head up with one hand, his elbow disappearing in the pillow.
“No,” I said, “I can’t.” I was so tired. My body ached for rest. It was nearly three in the morning. I had been up for over twenty one hours. The buzz I had from the wine had long since left me, and the many orgasms he had bestowed upon me were making my brain feel like soup. As well as my legs. “I’m sorry.” I fought valiantly as my eyes dipped closed for longer than a reasonable blink.
“Don’t be sorry.” He rested his head back down on his pillow. Half of his face vanished within it. He reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. Then he seemed to realize what he was doing and withdrew his hand, letting it rest on his hip.
“I’m so tired. But, I don’t want you to go.”
“You think I’m the kind of guy to love and leave?”
“Aren’t you?”
The one eye that stared at me looked away and up at the ceiling. He rolled on to his back. I watched his chest rise and fall and he refused to answer me. His eyes finally closed. I stayed where I was, fearful of moving and disturbing him. I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to sleep with me in my bed. I wanted to wake with him beside me. I knew that the chances of him staying the night were slim to none. It would be no surprise to roll over in the morning and find myself alone. He wouldn’t leave a note. He wouldn’t be downstairs making coffee. He would simply be gone.
As I watched him sleep I told myself that I would be okay with that. I could take it for what it was: a wild night with a man who showed me what it felt like to feel real, raw pleasure. It took everything I had to resist cuddling up beside him. I wanted to tuck myself against his side and rest my cheek on his chest so I could listen to his heartbeat. I could listen to every slow and steady breath he took. I didn’t have much time left with him, I was sure of that.
The other thing I was sure of was that McCoy McCoy had ruined all other men for me in my future.
When I woke my bedroom was illuminated with full daylight. I glanced up at my alarm clock and rolled my eyes at my own laziness when I saw that it was nearly ten in the morning. I stretched and felt the tightness in my body. I could feel bruises on my back and there was an ache between my legs that I had never felt before. I felt a strange tickle of pride as I chose to look at them as war wounds.
I was afraid to roll over. I knew what I would be turning to find: nothing. I took a deep breath and finally rolled myself over, pulling my blankets up to my chin as I did so.
He was still there.
I fell perfectly still as I stared at him. In the daylight, and in sleep, he seemed a completely different man. He was still lying on his back. His face was calm and almost serene- all the broody scowling was gone and left him looking somewhat angelic. There was no permanent frown in his forehead. His mouth wasn’t firm, his jaw was relaxed. It was a sight to behold.
The blankets were half way up his stomach, leaving the top of his abs and all of his chest exposed. The arm furthest from me hung slightly off the edge of the bed. His other arm was bent so that one hand rested on his chest, which was rising and falling in a slow steady rhythm. He was exquisite. I fought the impulse to pinch myself to check if I was dreaming. It seemed so unlikely to have a god of a man like him sleeping in my bed.
I watched him rest for as long as my bladder would allow. Eventually I had to slowly roll off the bed and pad around it. I didn’t use my ensuite. Instead I closed my bedroom door behind me and used the bathroom out in the hall. I plucked the robe that hung from the back of the door off its hook and tied it around my waist. Then I went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee.
As I poured my cup there was a knock on the front door. I padded out of the kitchen and down the hall. When I opened the door Carly’s big eyes were staring at me.
“I called you a hundred fucking times last night,” she barked. She planted her hands on her hips and scowled at me.
“I’m sorry, I never even checked my phone. It must have been on silent.”
She brushed by me into the house and made for the kitchen. She poured herself the rest of the coffee that I had intended to pour into a cup for McCoy. She added milk and a copious amount of sugar before turning back to me. “Okay. For future reference, let’s make sure to let each other know that we are safe if we split up like that. For all I know Mr. Badboy could have wheeled you out of there and done terrible things to you. I was worried, Veronica. Seriously.”
I felt guilty. It was one of my least favorite feelings- especially when Carly was involved. “Car, I really am sorry. I didn’t want to make you worry. I would never do that to you on purpose.
The night kind of just got away from me.”
“Oh? And what do you mean by that?” Her eyebrow inched upwards and she gave me a playful smile that told me she had forgiven me, and now she was curious.
“Well,” I started, unsure what to tell her and what to keep to myself, “I ran into Jason shortly after you left.”
“Oh, fuck.”
I nodded knowingly. “Yep. I was sitting with him- with McCoy, and Jason and his new girlfriend showed up and sat down with us. We didn’t ask them to, he just pulled up a chair and sat down.”
“Such a jackass,” Carly muttered, missing my displeasure with what ensued the previous night.
“It gets worse. He started asking me questions and interrupting me, like he always used to do. Then… then, he asked if you and I still hang out.”
“He always hated my guts,” Carly acknowledged, sipping her coffee thoughtfully.
“When I told him we did, because we are best friends, he went off. Started saying senseless things. Was kind of mean. Then…” I paused for dramatic effect and leaned on the counter. “Then, McCoy told him off. It was amazing.”
“McCoy did what?”
Damn it. “It was a rough night.” I slowly continued with the story in hopes she would let it slide. “And before I knew it, Jason tried to go after him. Nearly punched me trying to get at him. And McCoy laid him out on the patio in front of everybody. In seconds. It was crazy.”
Carly looked impressed. “Okay, he gets brownie points for that. I mean, it’s also probably just his violent nature coming out. Or some Tarzan chest thumping macho bullshit. But, whatever, he hit Jason. And that is awesome.”
“He’s actually a lot different than you might think.”
Carly looked up at me over the rim of her coffee cup. Then she put it down on the counter and sighed. “So you slept with him?”
“No,” I lied. But the word came out of me too quickly and she saw right through it.
“Oh yes you did.” She pointed a finger at me. “Look at you! Your hair is a bird nest; you’re still wearing your makeup from last night. Oh man, he did a number on you.”
I groaned and leaned against my counter, burying my face in one hand. “Okay. Yes. I slept with him. But, he’s… my God Carly. I don’t even know where to start.”
“The beginning is usually the best spot.”
I didn’t look up at her through my fingers that still concealed my face. I wasn’t willing to go into details. Not yet. Everything was too fresh, and still didn’t feel totally real in my mind. I had to give her something though. She would pry until she had some tid bit or another to cling to. “After he knocked Jason on his ass, he took me out of the bar. Correction,” I said, holding up one finger. “He lifted me over the railing and placed me on the sidewalk, and then we left.”
“Did he pay for your drink?”
I felt my brow furrow at that realization. “Uh. No.”
“So you dined and dashed?”
My cheeks burned. “Oops.”
Carly laughed. “Miss goody two shoes over here. Look at you go.” She saw the look of horror on my face. “Oh don’t worry about it. What happened after that?”
So I told her a little bit about how the night unfolded. I didn’t give her all the descriptions, and I left out McCoy’s ‘begging’ expectations for fear she wouldn’t understand. Instead I indulged her in the more surprising things about him. How gentle he was. How he cared about how I felt. That he wanted me to feel safe and comfortable around him.
Carly took another mouthful of her coffee. “Okay, I admit, he doesn’t sound all bad.”
I grinned. “He’s not. I… I don’t want to get ahead of myself but I can’t but wonder if this will all go somewhere.”
I saw the corner of her mouth twitch. “I get that. But, don’t get too involved too fast. Not with this kind of guy. It’s easy for them to love you and leave you, you know what I mean?”
I heard the sound of my bedroom door clicking open upstairs. Apparently Carly heard it as well because her eyes practically popped out of her head. Then she pointed at me again and her face became a mask of sheer delight. “Did he stay the night here?” She squealed.
“Shush,” I snapped. I didn’t want him to hear her making a fuss. “Listen, don’t be weird. Please, Carly. Don’t scare him off.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You like him.”
“No, Carly, come on-”
“Oh no, no, no. You like him. You like him a lot.”
My cheeks were burning. I couldn’t lie to her. She could always see right through me. I rolled my eyes and nodded slightly, admitting it. “I do, okay? And if you would give him time, I think you would find that he’s not that bad.”
“How much time did you give him?” She asked, winking at me.
“Stop it.”
His footfalls on the stairs made us both fall into silence. When he emerged in the open archway of the kitchen he stopped and looked at Carly, who was sipping her coffee and looking everywhere but at him.
“Morning.” He said.
She looked over at him with a polite smile on her lips. When her eyes fell upon him her mouth practically fell open. He was only wearing his boxers, which were skin tight and left little to the imagination. That distracting body of his was on display. “M-morning,” she stammered.
I hid my smile as I turned and began to make another pot of coffee. He padded around the island in the middle of my kitchen and grabbed the tie from my robe. He pulled me to him and lifted my chin up. “I said, ‘Morning’.”
“Good morning,” I said, embarrassed that he would do this to me in front of Carly.
But he let me go and then leaned against the counter and crossed his arms across his chest. Carly made it no secret that she was checking him out. I was checking him out too.
He cleared his throat and lifted his eyebrows at Carly as she did a clean sweep of him with her eyes. “How was the rest of your evening, Carly?” His tone had adapted the same laziness that it held last night.
“Good,” she looked back down at her coffee cup. “Went home. Drank by myself. Ordered pizza. Drank more… called somebody five hundred times.”
He gave her that crooked devious smile that I liked so much. “She was a bit preoccupied. Apologies.”
“Alright,” Carly said as she put her mug down. “I’m out. You two have a good time doing whatever it is you do. Call me later, okay?” She gave me a nod that told me she wasn’t upset. She just wanted out. McCoy wasn’t making it an incredibly comfortable environment for a third wheel.
She slipped out of the kitchen and McCoy and I stood in silence until we heard my front door close behind her. Then I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it. It broke over me and I was bending over to hold my ribs. Then he started up. It was the most delightful sound I had ever heard. He threw his head back when he laughed and he closed his eyes. I wanted to hear the sound all day long.
When we finally pulled ourselves together he came to stand behind me, bracing himself against me and holding me to him. I rested the back of my head on his chest. “I’ve never slept so well in my life,” I confessed.
He chuckled and drank his coffee. He kissed the top of my cheek. “Cute robe.”
It wasn’t cute at all. It was powder blue fleece and it cut off just above my knee. There was nothing cute or sexy about it. “I didn’t want to wake you up so I kind of darted out of my room without thinking about it and this was all I had-”
He turned me around. “I was being serious. It’s cute. I don’t think I’ve ever called anything cute before.” He pursed his lips and looked to the ceiling, feigning thoughtfulness.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh please.”
He laughed lightly again and started to make his way out of the kitchen. When I asked him where he was going he looked over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving. Just grabbing a cigarette.”
“I didn’t think you were leaving.”
“Didn’t you?”
He had called me out and he wasn’t wrong. I had suddenly been gripped with panic at the thought of him leaving- which really made no sense. I hardly knew him. He was, at best, still only an acquaintance. Sort of.
He left the kitchen and eventually so did I. I refused to be the girl who stood around waiting for him to come back in. So I went up to my room and started the shower. I left my robe
on the floor and stepped into the steam and hot water. I scrubbed away my makeup and lathered my hair with shampoo. Soon the smell of sex and sleep was gone and replaced with the sweetness of coconut and lavender.
I let out a surprised yelp when McCoy pulled the shower door open. He stood there, naked, staring at me as I rinsed conditioner out of my hair. “What?” I asked him.
“I like watching you. Is there a problem with that?”
“No.” I like watching you too. I watched you sleep for at least two hours.
He stepped into the shower with me. His hair hung in his eyes when it got wet and he slicked it back with one hand. The motion of his fingers raking through his hair was toxic to me. He closed his eyes as he let the water hit his face. “I’m not too proud to ask to use your shampoo,” he said, holding out an open hand expectantly.
I pumped my shampoo in the center of his palm.
I watched him lather his hair and rinse it out. Then I watched him wash his body. When he was done he faced me. The shower rained down on his back. Water ran over his brow and down his nose. His lashes were wet and beads of water clung to them.
He took me in the shower and I succumbed to him without protest. By the time we were done the water was no longer hot. We wrapped ourselves in our towels and I retreated to the warmth of the blankets on my bed. He followed me and wrapped me up in his arms to warm me up. He took me again.
He rolled off the bed shortly after and nodded at me. “Get dressed. You should eat something. I’ve been greedy.”
I didn’t want to move. I was so content to lay there in the state of bliss he had put me in. “I’m so cozy,” I mumbled.
He tapped my ankle as he stood at the end of the bed. “Up. Now. I’ll take you for lunch. Then you can come right back here, if you wish.”
I looked down at him and didn’t hide my frown. “Alone?”
“Only if you want to be.”
“And if I don’t want to be?”
“Then I will join you. For as long as you like.”