I spent the next few hours fidgeting on the couch. 12 rolled into 1 and then into 2.
By 3 p.m. I’d found my way back into the master bedroom and laid in its chaise lounge. The ocean glistened in the late afternoon sun, and I left the windows open, letting the wind roll over me and the sounds of the city seep into my ears.
Why couldn’t he call? Or text? Was it that hard to let me know he was thinking of me? Even if he was busy, I’d understand, but this silence was hurtful. I wished I was tired enough to nap, but no matter how long I closed my eyes, my mind wouldn’t relax enough to let me.
The door to the condo opened at 3:46 p.m. I remained on the lounge, listening to him. With a clank, his keys hit the counter followed by a frustrated sigh.
I rose and walked towards the kitchen. He was braced against the counter, gripping it, his head hanging down. “Is everything all right?” I asked. His eyes looked bloodshot and tired, but he didn’t answer. I took a few more steps into the room. “Paul? Can I help?”
“Sometimes there just isn’t a right choice, you know. I’m trying. I’m trying so hard, but I feel like I keep fucking everything up.” He shook his head miserably. All of his hard work was chipping away at him. Every day he spent here wore him down further and I hoped when the time came, he’d turn down this job. He seemed so stressed and edgy.
I approached to him and wrapped an arm around his middle. “I’m sure that whatever it is, you’ll figure out a way to fix it. Don’t worry. We’ll spend a week at the beach, go back home to Louisiana and put Florida out of our minds. You don’t need Florida, Paul. Look what it does to you? You’re so tired and miserable. And I miss you.”
“Mia…I just…I thought that…” He sighed again, and I realized since he’d walked in the door he hadn’t even looked at me.
“You’re forgiven for being so late,” I said. “I get it. Things happen. Next time, just call.”
Paul blew out a breath. “I’m horrible at that too. I’m sorry. I was going to call, but I thought I’d only be a minute. Before I knew it hours had passed. I don’t deserve you, Mia.”
Maybe he’d been withdrawn and distant, but that didn’t mean he was unworthy. “That’s not true,” I said, kissing his shoulder. “You’ve been busy and stressed, and yes I’ve been neglected, but you’re going to make it up to me.”
He turned around to face me and his lopsided grin gave me butterflies. Noticing my dress, his eyebrows shot up. “Wow, Mia. You look stunning.”
I blushed. “Thank you. I wanted to look nice when you came home.”
“You certainly…I mean…just…wow.”
I smiled, loving that the sight of me made him tongue tied. “Let’s forget about this job in Florida for the rest of the week. Not one word about it. Promise me. Not one word. Just relax and have a good time with me.”
“But Mia—”
“Nope.” I stretched up on my tip toes and brought my mouth close to his. “That’s all I ask,” I whispered. To entice him, I pushed my pelvis into his, and he released a pent breath. “Can you forget about it for one week? Anything you want to tell me about Florida can wait until we get home,” I said, letting my mouth barely graze his.
With hooded eyes, he nodded and brought his mouth to mine. Weeks were too long to wait for this kiss and immediately I jumped in, too greedy to let this progress slowly. We’d only been kissing for a few seconds, but my breath was labored and I couldn’t hold in the moan when his hands squeezed my behind.
Needing to feel him, I unbuttoned his shirt, jerking it out of his pants and down his arms. Paul’s breaths were erratic as I led him towards the master bedroom. His mouth moved down my neck and I relished the opportunity to become reacquainted with his body. The white undershirt he wore was tight and I pushed it up so I could freely touch his stomach and back.
When the back of my knees hit the bed, I pulled the shirt over his head. Needy and desperate, my hands fumbled with the buckle of his pants.
Paul grabbed my wrist, stilling me, and I expected him to deny me again, but instead he said, “Breathe. We have all night.”
I did as he said, letting a long exhale bathe his neck. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve just missed you. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to be away from you?”
His sigh was painful and he tightened his arms. “I know,” he said. Warm lips pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Every night has been torture. I wanted you with me. I wanted to call you, even if I only had you on phone it would have been enough.”
I looked into his eyes, letting my fingers thread through his hair. “Why didn’t you?”
His green eyes looked into mine, and I could see how tired he still was—the whites slightly red and glassy. “It was always so late. I thought it would be selfish to keep you up all night. Would you have minded?”
“No,” I said. “I was up half the night thinking about you anyway. I don’t know how it was with others, but with me…Paul, I’ll always want you. Every part of you. Late at night. In the middle of the day. Whenever you have the time. I want you.”
His expelled breath held amazement, as though he’d been waiting years to hear those words from someone. The fingers on my hips tensed and it felt like a rubber band was stretched taut between us. Any moment and it would snap. I wanted it to.
I rose on my tiptoes, bringing my mouth to his ear. “Paul, I need you,” I whispered and his whole body contracted. He mouth found mine and my hands resumed their purpose, slower this time.
His pants hit the floor and I felt the hard tip of him press into my stomach. It made my knees weak and my mouth water. My body moved on its own, knowing what it wanted, what it needed. My hands wrapped around the length of him and he moaned.
I pumped, kissing his chest and collar bone. His fingers were soft as they gradually lifted my dress. He bunched the material at my waist and forced his hands into the back of my panties. They squeezed, causing my breath to hitch.
“Take this off,” he said and I helped him peel the dress from me. The late afternoon sun blazed through the windows, but I didn’t care. Our floor was too high for anyone to eavesdrop, and I loved feeling the cool, ocean breeze send chills down my spine.
He threw my dress away and I sat on the edge of the bed taking him into my mouth. His sounds made my arousal rise. The quiet, strained breaths. The subtle moans. His stomach tensed and his hips pushed out, letting me take in more of him.
Just when I was finding my rhythm, he pulled away from me. “Lie back,” he said, husky, deep. I pushed myself up to the pillows relishing the heat of the sun as it cast its glow across my skin. Paul stood at the foot of the bed, watching me. This time, there was no hesitation in his eyes, only lust. My fingers beckoned him and he crawled to me, pulling my panties down my legs.
I sighed as his body lay flush with mine—all of his skin, his warmth. My legs wrapped around him and I felt him nudging, prodding, but I was too terrified to move, afraid he’d abruptly pull away if I tried to push him.
Instead, I let my hands relax him, rubbing them along his back. I let my lips excite him, taking extra care with my mouth and tongue. But I could still feel the resistance in him. His muscles were too tight and rigid. To calm him, I brought my hands to his hair, gently rubbing his face and head. My soft movements gradually soothed him and his weight settled.
When his tip touched my entrance, I couldn’t stop my sharp inhale, but he was still holding back, not following through. My hips rose, pushing him just a tiny bit further.
“Please,” I whispered against his lips. His eyes closed, the fight losing out to his desire. “Paul, plea—”
My urging abruptly cut off as he pushed into me. My head fell back. My eyes closed. Paul Macione was inside me, pushing in deep, burying himself. My nails dug into his skin and my knees hiked, letting him push further.
My body burned. All of it. From the top of my head to the tip of my toes. All thoughts left me and I could only focus on him, stretching me, meeting my body with his.<
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He pulled out, his head buried in my neck. The absence left me aching and I wanted him back. Needing it, I grabbed his hips and he pushed in again. Faster. Harder. His hands squeezed, forcing my hips closer to him. I tried to tell him how good it felt, how on fire my body was, but I couldn’t. No words would come. My tongue felt too fat, my mouth too dry.
For whole minutes, we lost ourselves to the steady movement, a climbing push and pull. Our eye contact never faltered. My heart pounded and I couldn’t think, too consumed to do anything but what he wanted. The weeks we’d spent knowing each other paid off. While his hips pumped, he knew just how to touch me, exactly where I needed and always with the right amount of pressure. He used it to his advantage, making sure I was with him the entire way.
My stomach was slick with his sweat, my legs quaking under his perfect thrusts. He pushed up, fully extending his arms, and with hooded eyes I watched him make love to me. Even though I’d only been with one other, I wasn’t unfamiliar with this act. I’d seen enough, known enough. And the way Paul moved was a rush to the senses.
I realized how close I was. Seeing him above me was enough. I’d fantasized about this for months. And now, seeing it, knowing how his face looked as he took pleasure from my body was all I needed.
In a lust fueled daze, I watched us connecting—joining, and becoming one. He was so long and rigid, pushing into me with abandon. Seeing him disappear into my body was nearly too much. My hair fell into my eyes and face in messy waves. I gripped it, my features contorting as the sight of him pushed me further and further towards the edge.
“Yes,” I breathed, my body slightly shaking.
Something within him snapped and he went down to a forearm. With forceful grunts and moans, he pumped faster. His other arm wrapped under me. Strong. Able. It held my hips and waist, forcing my body to pump just as fast. I was losing it. My toes curling, my nails digging.
I came first, a hot jolt through my body. I jerked and tensed, bowing my back. Paul didn’t stop. He was relentless, watching me, giving me more and more. My mouth opened on his shoulder, holding him close to keep myself grounded. That’s when I felt the change in him. His thrusts eased from their erratic pace, to slow, long pushes. Gone were his heavy breaths. The noises he made were strained, almost as if he was in pain. He couldn’t get deep enough, pushing into me as hard as he could. Unable to hold it in anymore, a forceful sound fell from his mouth.
Finished, he fell onto the bed beside me, his eyes closed. I kissed him softly. Still too weak, he was barely able to respond, but smiled against my mouth. “Mia,” he whispered. His breathing was deep, struggling to find its balance again. “You are so perfect.”
“So are you.”
He pulled me into his side and wrapped himself around me. “I said it first,” he said. I smiled, and within minutes he was fast asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WE DIDN’T LEAVE THE bed for two whole days. Food and water were barely a thought. Our bodies were too hungry for each other. Paul not only made love to me, but he let me make love to him. He was encouraging and patient, not allowing me to feel bashful or shy.
In the late hours of the night. The early morning. Midafternoon. It didn’t matter. We had a thirst, a need. It couldn’t be contained. For hours he’d slowly pleasure me until he learned the exact key, the magic movements that had me crumbling within seconds.
He was a focused lover. Devoted. He loved to say my name when I rode him just the right way. A prayer falling from his lips. My body was sore and aching from our incessant love making, but he couldn’t stop—and I didn’t want him to.
Now that he’d given in, he was possessed. All he could think about was my naked body and how willingly I gave it to him. Every inch of my skin was sensitive and aware.
The sun rose and fell on us in that bed. Sheets tangled around our limbs. Pillows tossed aside. By the end of day two, I knew his body better than my own.
I knew that when I ran my fingers down his ribs, he’d grit his teeth, fighting off the growl in his throat. I knew that when I rolled my hips a certain way, his eyes would close and he’d bite his lip. I knew that running my fingers through his hair would calm him, bringing him down from the passionate haze he was in. I knew that I could make him come undone in a matter of minutes if I rode him slowly, putting his hands on my behind and letting my hair fall around his face.
It was day three and we’d just woken. I felt his lips softly pressing into the skin of my shoulder. My body came alive as he ran his fingers down my side, squeezing my thigh. “Are you hungry?” he whispered.
I’d hardly thought about it, and stretched. “Probably,” I said. “We haven’t had real food in days.”
“I’m taking you to the beach today,” he said. “We only have three more days here and as much as I’d like to spend them in this bed, I can’t have you starving.”
I rolled over to smile at him and he eyed my nakedness with lust. His closed mouth growled and I threw my head back with a delighted laugh. “Did you just growl at me?”
He smiled and threw the sheet over my body. “You’ll have to cover that up if I’m expected to function.”
Before he got carried away, he disappeared to the bathroom, and I heard the shower start. Needing one too, I snuck in behind him and Paul threw his head up with a groan. “Mia,” he said. “It’ll be hours before we leave if you keep teasing me.”
“I’m not teasing you,” I said, rubbing my naked torso against his back. Before Paul, I never knew I had this sexual appetite. His entire being appealed to me and I was ravenous.
But we did need to leave the condo, so for a few minutes I could push that aside. We shared the showerhead, washing our hair and bodies. When the last bits of soap ran down the drain and our bodies were clean, we stopped and stared at each other.
Water ran down his stomach, hitting his groin and parting around his dick. My mouth parted and I couldn’t stop myself. I braced my arms against the metal bar on the shower wall, and lifted myself, wrapping my legs around him. Paul didn’t hesitate. He held me steady and slid inside. The hot water splashed and stung as we gradually moved.
His hair was plastered to his face, his eyes crazed. I did this to him. I made him this obsessed.
“I can’t last long,” he said. “This…seeing you this way…it’s too much.”
“It’s okay,” I said, just needing to see him lose himself. “Don’t worry about me.”
That was all I needed to say. His eyes closed and his mouth opened, stretching into a silent scream. Quiet grunts and forced breaths were my reward. His body was drained and he slowly set me on my feet.
Not done with me, he pulled me in close, grabbing my neck and forcing my chin up. His mouth met mine in a passionate kiss.
“You’re incredible,” Paul said as he pulled away. “I don’t know why you picked me, but I’m keeping you. There’s just no getting around it—you’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”
Paul belonged on the beach. His body was long and slightly tanned. The blue swim trunks he wore made his skin look darker, smoother. His hair fell in careless locks and the aviator sunglasses he wore gave him an unintentional swagger.
Maybe that’s what appealed the most to me. Paul was oblivious to his good looks. He didn’t even realize half the women on the beach had stopped to stare at him as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and lay back on his towel. I propped up next to him and gazed out at the ocean.
For some reason, in that exact moment, I thought of his brother and Marjorie. The picture of Paul and her came forward in my mind. They had looked good together. Did we?
It was silly and foolish to worry about something so mundane, but now it was all I could think about. I didn’t know if Paul’s eyes were closed, his sunglasses blocking them. I pulled out my phone and stretched it above us, taking a picture. He was lying down and I was sitting, making it not nearly as intimate as the picture with his ex.
Suddenly, he sat up and took my phone
from me. His long arm reached out and we smiled into the camera. “There,” he said, lying back “Send me a copy of it.”
The picture itself made me smile. Looking at it, you’d never know he strictly wore dress shirts and slacks. You’d think he was a beach bum. His hand rested on the small of my back and he gave it small rubs as I texted the picture to him.
Just before we came down to the beach, we bought hot dogs from a vendor and my tummy was full. I pushed him over and lay on my stomach next to him. “Do you think we make a cute couple?” I asked, and his amused grin made me self-conscious. Maybe it was a silly thing to even think about.
“Well, you’re cute,” he said. “Am I?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “You’re cute.”
“Then we have to be.”
“There’s so much more to it than that.”
He chuckled, going up to an elbow. “Like what?”
“Like, I don’t know…do we go together.”
“That’s a little hard for me to gauge,” he said. “You’d have to ask someone else.” His answer didn’t satisfy me, and I worked my lip around to keep it from pouting. Noticing, he continued. “Mia, that’s not something I think about. All I know is that when you’re on my arm, I feel like a king.”
I smiled. His hand went to my face and my eyes closed as he whispered soft truths into my ear. Paul was madly in love with me. I’d never been surer of anything in my life. Even though his eyes were shaded, I knew they held nothing but honesty.
His mouth found my jaw, giving me sweet kisses and I was getting swept away in his attention. When my eyes opened they settled on a woman lingering at the edge of the beach. She had bright pink hair and tattoos going down her arms and across her stomach. It wasn’t Fiona, but she reminded me of her.
It had been weeks since I’d even spoken to her, and I wondered if she was all right. But then I wondered why I even cared.
Mia Found (Starting Fires Book 3) Page 14