Show Me Something (Something Series Book 5)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  Opening the door, I found him standing there with his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Hey, I saw your car. I thought you had a date tonight?”

  “I did, but it ended early.”

  His gaze landed on my bottle of beer, amusement evident in his expression. “I’m guessing by the drink of choice it didn’t go well?”

  “You’d guess right. Dating or coffee or whatever it’s called these days blows. Um, did you want to come in? There’s more beer. But only if you drink it out of the bottle so as not to make me feel uncivilized if you were to pour it into a proper glass.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  He walked in, and I tried in vain not to stare at his fine ass encased in blue jeans. Snapping my eyes up to his face when he turned, I swore he could read my thoughts and blushed accordingly.

  After he got himself a bottle, we both took a seat on the sofa.

  We were only friends, I reminded myself, simply buddies who hung out and were not in, and would not ever have, a physical relationship. Oh, no, I shouldn’t have thought about sex because now I noticed how good he smelled. And why was he looking at me funny?

  “Hello. Earth to Juliette. You all right?”

  “Um, yeah, sorry. I must’ve spaced.”

  “I asked you if you wanted anything more to drink. You drained your beer. You want some water?”

  Looking at the now empty bottle in question, I realized he was right. Thinking about sex evidently had me chugging my alcohol these days. “Some water would probably be good.”

  He got up and pulled down a glass from my kitchen cabinet, clearly comfortable in my space with all the dishwashing he’d done over the last few weeks.

  “Hey, is this a math book? Are you taking classes?”

  My head whipped around to see him touching my books on the counter.

  “Uh, it’s just online courses.” The last thing I’d wanted was for him—or anyone, for that matter—to find out.

  He frowned as he walked over to hand me the glass of water. He then took a seat next to me. “What degree are you working towards?”

  I shrugged. “It’s my first two classes, so nothing yet. But I was hoping someday it’ll be business administration. Um, do me a favor, though, and don’t tell anyone.”

  “Don’t tell anyone you’re taking classes? Why not?”

  “Because with the way math is going, I’m not sure how long I’ll be doing it. Plus, it’s embarrassing.”

  “Why would it be embarrassing?”

  Because he’d gone to Yale, Brian and Josh had studied at Harvard, and Haylee had done undergrad at Stanford and was now studying law at Yale. Meanwhile, I was struggling with a math refresher course. But there was no way I wanted to voice my insecurity. It wouldn’t be something he’d understand. “It just is.”

  He sighed but, gratefully, changed the subject. “Did you pick up Tristan?”

  “Yes. At least I was home in time to put him to bed. Haylee seemed a bit disappointed, however. I think she hoped I’d get lucky, and she’d keep him overnight.” I had no clue why I’d said that out loud.

  He frowned. “Yeah, well, I’m glad she was disappointed. So was this guy Chad that bad?”

  “I’m sure he’s a good person, at least he was a gentleman, but he’s just not into me. I don’t know what I was thinking when I accepted the coffee invitation.”

  He turned his body towards me, which made sense for better conversation. But was it just me, or was he sitting really close?

  Jesus, get a grip. I wasn’t a teenager who’d try to measure his interest by the inches he sat away from me. I was, in fact, a grown woman who shouldn’t read into something so trivial.

  “What makes you think he wasn’t into you?”

  I gave him a look like ‘come on.’ Of all people to ask that question, he should find the answer obvious, especially considering the first time we’d met. My brand of cray-cray was an acquired taste.

  “Don’t give me a look as if there is a neon sign spelling it out for me. Tell me why on earth he wouldn’t be into you?”

  He was getting annoyed on my behalf, which was sweet but completely unnecessary. Maybe it was the nerve still raw from him finding my school books or perhaps it was the terrible insecurity I’d felt during the entire coffee date, but the words came out before I could stop them.

  “Mark, I’m a single mom. You know what? Scratch that. I’m an about-to-be-divorced single mom who is living here only because of the amazing charity and friendship of Haylee and Josh, and because Brian came up with the idea. I drink beer from the bottle, have a fascination with muscle cars, and buy my makeup from a drugstore. I didn’t attend college, and though I’d thought maybe to start on a degree, considering the way math is sucking, I doubt it’ll ever happen. And frankly, I’m happy being an office manager and don’t have any aspirations of making CEO or partner. And that’s only the nonphysical stuff. Don’t even get me started on the other. In a nutshell, he’s pretty much out of my league.”

  “He fucking said all of that to you?” Mark got up off the couch so abruptly that the glass of water I’d been holding partially spilled onto my lap, but I was too distracted to take notice.

  In awe, I watched him pace the floor. Mild-mannered Mark turning angry was something I never thought I’d see. It was kind of hot. But when I realized he was grabbing his keys off the table, it clicked that his anger was misplaced.

  “Wait, no, he didn’t actually say those things.” Standing up and grabbing his arm, I swallowed at the fact his bicep was rock hard. Good Lord. What did the man have happening under the sweatshirt he was always wearing?

  “He didn’t say them, but he made you feel that way?” His eyes were intent on mine.

  “Not really. I mean it was all me. Come on. I’m a realist. He’s a third-year Yale Law School student who comes from money and has big-time plans to become partner by age thirty-five in some prestigious firm. He’s probably a nice guy, but the last thing he wants is a relationship with some girl who grew up in a trailer park, had her dad leave when she was six, and married her high school sweetheart who turned into an opiate addict. I’m a single mom with stretch marks and sagging boobs in a college town full of twenty-something-year-old coeds. Obviously, it’s not a match.”

  I watched his mouth open and then shut as though he couldn’t find the proper words to respond. I imagine he was still stuck on the sagging boobs part. Walking into the kitchen, I grabbed a paper towel and blotted the spilled water from my leggings.

  He followed me, standing on the other side of the counter. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get you wet.”

  My face heated while my mind went directly into the gutter. But in a rare display of restraint, I managed not to comment on it.

  He’d picked up on the color of my face, however, and sought to explain. “Sorry. I meant spilling the water.” He ran a hand through his hair.

  I couldn’t help it—I started giggling. Maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was his need to clarify. “I know you did, but I can’t help having a dirty mind. I should blame all those years of working for Brian.” I was unable to stop laughing and was relieved when Mark cracked a smile, too.

  He smirked. “I bet. And I guess so long as this guy didn’t treat you badly, I’ll let it go.”

  I couldn’t help wondering what in the heck he thought he was going to do. Charge out of here searching for some law student named Chad? But it meant a lot to know he wanted to be my platonic knight in shining armor.

  “He was fine. Honestly, it felt like he might be more interested in Haylee. He kept bringing her up. But please don’t share that with Josh.” I knew Haylee’s husband would be less than pleased to hear a student named Chad had been inquiring about her.

  “That wouldn’t go over well, so I won’t. This Chad guy shouldn’t have made you feel as though you weren’t worthy of his company. If anything it should have been the other way around.”

  As much as I’d have loved to believe his wo
rds, there was no convincing me. I took a deep breath and decided another beer was in order, after all. Opening the refrigerator, I took one out and popped open the top.

  “I’m not keeping you from a night to yourself, am I?” Mark asked.

  “Nope. Not at all. By the way, do you know if there’s a Sam’s Club or Costco around here?”

  “There’s one in Milford about twenty minutes away. Why?”

  Because I needed a lifetime supply of batteries for my vibrator. Luckily, my thought did not verbalize itself.

  But then his gaze landed on the list with BATTERIES in all caps on my countertop, underlined and with two exclamation points after it.

  I wondered if he knew. Great. Now he had me wanting him to kiss me. Deciding to put some space between us before I hopped on him like a sex-starved lunatic, I walked back towards the sofa.

  “Can I ask you something?” He came into the living room, taking a seat next to me, turning his body so we were face to face, sitting even closer to me than the last time. So close our knees were touching.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “In our first conversation, you said you wanted sex in the dark, no foreplay, and him leaving by the morning. Why?”

  I sucked in a breath and wished he hadn’t been sober enough to remember everything I’d blurted out the first night we’d met. “I guess I was thinking I don’t want the pressure of anything else right now.”

  “And the lights off are because...?”

  “Because it’s been two years, and I’m not ready for anyone to see my post-baby body.”

  “I’m confused. Tristan’s father and you—I didn’t think you separated until a few months ago—”

  “We didn’t have sex while I was pregnant because, in his words, I was enormous. Then afterwards—Let’s just say there was one attempted time, and it didn’t go well. I guess I didn’t have anything on his twenty-year-old replacement.” After my admission, I busied myself with gulping more of my beverage.

  “God, you are pissing me off.”

  My eyes went wide in astonishment. “What? Why?”

  “Why are you this down on yourself? It’s no wonder Chad wasn’t into you. Over your coffee tonight, you probably gave him a top ten list of why he shouldn’t be.”

  I couldn’t help it. Tears welled up instantly at his nail-on-the-head assessment.

  “You know what? To hell with this—”

  Suddenly, he took the bottle out of my hand, plopped it on the coffee table next to his, cupped my face, and crushed his mouth to mine. Lips that were firm but soft at the same time explored mine. Heat ignited through my body at the contact. Then it was suddenly gone.

  I opened my eyes to see him staring at me, as if waiting on my reaction.

  “Um, was that a you feel sorry for me kiss or—”

  I didn’t have a chance to finish as he moved one hand to the back of my neck while the other cupped my chin, trailing his thumb over my lips intimately. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks.”

  “But you friend zoned me.”

  He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I was trying to be respectful of what you have going on. Didn’t want to push you into something you might not be ready for. Then tonight I sat across the hall for hours, hoping you’d be home early. Hoping I hadn’t lost my chance.”

  Before I could register the full impact of his words or that he’d wanted to kiss me for weeks, his mouth covered mine again. This time he paused to take off his glasses and then leaned in. His tongue dipped inside and tasted me with both finesse and possession.

  A low moan came from deep inside of me. Before I knew it, he’d shifted me so my knees were straddling his lap on the couch. His tongue danced with mine, dominating and consuming me more than a kiss ever had.

  I found myself lost in such an unexpected pleasure. The man certainly knew how to kiss.

  His strong hands angled my head, allowing him to deepen the delicious assault on my lips and exposing my neck. His mouth then traveled there until he reached behind my ear and whispered, “Do you want me to stop?”

  “Not even a little bit.” I hardly wanted to pause to answer his question, let alone stop kissing.

  “You’re sure? Because I’m about ten seconds away from taking you into your bedroom and fucking you in the dark like your plan dictates. And just so we’re clear, it’s not because I don’t want to see every inch of you. But I want you to be comfortable before that happens. If you’re not sure, then tell me you only want to be friends.”

  Who was this man? He was sex on an alpha stick, that’s what. I nodded, at a loss for words, something which hardly ever happened.

  “Yes, you want me to take you into the bedroom?”

  I didn’t think ‘yes’ was a strong enough word. But I could only manage an “uh-huh,” completely stunned by how this night was turning out.

  He simply stood, with my legs wrapped tightly around him, striding into my bedroom without hesitation, as if my weight was nothing. After placing me on the bed, he moved towards the window.

  “Take off your clothes,” he commanded, his bossy voice sending a shiver down my entire body. He drew the blinds tight, blocking the moonlight, and then closed the bedroom door, shutting out all of the living room illumination.

  I scrambled out of my leggings, thankful for my torturous Brazilian wax, after all. Moving under the covers, I licked my lips, suddenly nervous. “Thanks for understanding—” I started to say.

  Suddenly, his weight was on the bed, and then he was under the covers with me, hot and, oh, so very naked. “Don’t thank me. It’s all I can do not to shine a spotlight on you and tell you all the ways you’re beautiful. But tonight we’ll do this your way.”

  His words made me smile while my hands skimmed down his biceps. Jesus, his arms were as cut as I’d imagined. I stroked his chest and found much the same magnificent musculature. When my fingers skimmed down his rock-hard stomach, I groaned in delight. The man was built. “You’re in shape. How the hell did I not realize this?”

  “Not like I have much else to occupy my time outside of work.” His mouth was on mine again while his hard thigh spread my legs open. Strong hands moved to my breasts as soft lips traveled down, trailing kisses to one.

  I tensed, self-conscious, especially about that part of my body.

  “Relax, Jules,” he demanded.

  Oh, good Lord. His fingers glided down my stomach, further down, finding my wet center, as if willing me to forget about the thought of him touching any other parts of me.

  He shifted his lips back to my mouth, and I met his fevered kiss with one of my own. It had been too long, and I was a woman starved. Our tongues clashed, each of us frantic for the contact. Then, when his weight shifted, I could feel the tip of his erection at my drenched entrance.

  “Are you on the Pill?” he asked, clearly straining with need.

  I whimpered, wanting to feel him inside of me more than anything. “I, um, yes, but sometimes I forget and then have to take two the next day. I’m clean, though. I got checked after I knew Rob was cheating, but turns out he didn’t have sex with her until after he stopped having sex with me, and we had only been with one another before that.”

  “What?”

  I’d just given him a lot of information without a real answer. “Do you have a condom, to be on the safe side?”

  “No. Shit, I haven’t had sex in four years.”

  No way. Did he say four years?

  “I’m clean, too, by the way, but let me get dressed and go to the drugstore real quick.”

  The thought of him leaving this bed and my body made me wish I was a more responsible pill-taker. “Wait. I have a condom. I was walking Tristan through campus and some chick handed me a safe sex card that had one attached. It was annoying because she gave a judging look toward my son as if he was a mistake derailing my educational dreams.” I was rambling but couldn’t help it. It’s what I did when I was anxious.

  “Where is it?”

  “U
m, in the stack of paperwork on the kitchen counter. It’s attached to the campus clinic’s information card about safe sex and preventing STDs.”

  “Be right back.”

  The man must’ve sprinted because he returned in less than a minute, shutting the door. His husky voice came in the dark. “You didn’t change your mind, did you?”

  “Not at all.”

  I could hear his sharp intake of breath and sat up, but I could only see the outline of his silhouette. “Everything okay?”

  “Yep, but let’s just say condoms are not one size fits all.”

  Huh. Guess that made me a lucky girl, then. “Will you be in pain?”

  The bed sank under the weight of him climbing in again. “I’d be in more if I’m not inside of you soon. But I need to get you ready for me first. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  His hands slid down my hips, skimming straight to my heat. Adept fingers parted my flesh dipping one inside, then another, stretching me exquisitely.

  “Oh, God, I’ve been fantasizing about your fingers inside of me since the first time I met you.”

  Immediately, he stopped.

  I arched my hips in protest and regretted my blurted-out internal thought. “Please don’t stop.”

  He chuckled into my neck. “Sorry. You surprised me, but then again, there should be nothing coming from you that would shock me by now.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not, but once his fingers started moving again, I honestly didn’t care. Instead, I wanted to touch him. Reaching down, I could feel the extent of his hard length.

  “Jesus, Mark.” Evidently there was a lot I had missed while looking at the man in his suits and casual attire. He was hung like a Greek statue, the really well-endowed kind. “I think you’re bigger than my vibrator.” I felt him hesitate once again. “I’m sorry. My damn mouth. I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious.”

  “Shut up, Jules,” he responded tenderly, kissing me on the nose before taking my lips again.

  My body started to shake when his fingers sped up and found my clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive flesh while his teeth nipped down the column of my throat. His hot breath in my ear whispered words which, along with his fingers, ignited my orgasm. “I love that you got this pussy waxed. Like it was only for me. So I could fuck you with my fingers and feel that bare skin. Now come for me, beautiful. I need to feel it.”