Impulse (New Adult Romance)

by C. J. Lake

  Now Cady blushed harder and licked her lips. Her pulse might’ve been racing like Mick’s, because her breath hitched—and she inched up even closer. There was no way she was missing his erection now. “Yes…” she agreed. “But only for tonight.”

  Only tonight, then goodbye. No interest in anything more with him. Hell, she didn’t even want his number, or, presumably, his last name. Maybe Mick was rationalizing the hell out of this, but…was there even any point in telling Cady the truth about himself? What difference would it make? If this was a one-and-done proposition, what did it matter if Mick was a student or a bodyguard?

  Cady Killoren wanted him. He wanted her. It was what it was—physical, sexual, purely animal. He could live with that.

  Chapter Five

  When they got to Cady’s apartment, there wasn’t much talk. There wasn’t much in the taxi either, though. Once they were in the confines of the cab, Cady and Mick fell into another kiss very easily, and each kiss led to another—until they were basically making out against the cheap, torn vinyl backseat. Just as Mick was running his mouth down her throat and she was digging her fingers into his hair, her breath coming up short, the cab jerked to a hard stop that almost sent them to the floor.

  Startled for a second, Mick pulled Cady protectively into his embrace as he scooped her up—then saw a smirk in the rear-view mirror. Dick, he thought of the cab driver, but still handed him a twenty. “Keep it,” he said, before taking Cady’s hand and leading the way out of the cab.

  “I’m on the sixth floor,” she told him, leading him to the elevators. Since there were other people in the elevator—mostly chattering, half-drunk college students—they didn’t immediately start up again. When Cady gave him a hungry, impatient look, Mick fantasized about throwing everyone else out at the next stop and lifting her up against the elevator wall.

  “Come on,” she said eagerly, when the doors opened on the sixth floor. After fumbling with her key, they were inside her apartment. She didn’t waste time switching on the lights or giving him a tour. Mick reached for her and she fell right into his arms, kissing him and pulling at his shirt. Once he backed her up against the wall, she whispered, “Wait, my bedroom is this way,” and led him across the living room in the dark.

  Mick barely formed impressions of the furniture or his surroundings before his mouth was on hers again, and his hands were exploring her body. Panting softly, Cady ran a hand over his crotch, rubbing his hard-on through his jeans. Soon their shirts were off and Cady’s bra hit the floor, too. Mick slowed down enough to savor her for a moment. Her breasts were incredibly sexy, and the way she shimmied out of her jeans was turning him on even more—especially when it meant that she was left in only a white lacy thong.

  “Jesus…” Mick groaned, grabbing her by the waist. Then he was kissing her again, while his hands possessively cupped her ass. Cady moaned into his mouth and jerked at his jeans until his fly was open and her hand was reaching for his cock, and then somehow they were on her bed and Mick was rolling on top of her.

  He ran his hands up her bare stomach, her sides and then on her breasts, strumming her nipples, and Cady said, “Oh my God, your hands are so warm…you feel so good.”

  In a strained voice, Mick responded honestly, “You have no idea how fucking good you feel.” Soon he was working his mouth on her ear, her neck, her breast…as his hand roamed lower.

  “Wait do you have condoms?” Cady asked in a breathy but panicked voice as Mick was peeling down her thong.

  “Yeah.” He always carried two in his wallet, just in case. Thank fucking fate for that, he thought now. Holy shit, he was about to have sex with Cady Killoren, the pretty, brainy chick from Ethics; definitely not how Mick saw the night going when Quinn had pestered him to go out instead of working on his history paper. The paper was due at nine a.m. and still wasn’t finished, so Mick was fucked. On the upside, he was here. Naked on Cady’s bed, sliding his fingers between her legs and inside her. He groaned roughly at the slick, hot feel of her pussy. She sighed as her eyes drifted closed, and Mick started stroking her intimately, doing a come-here motion with his fingers while they were inside her. She reacted instantly, rocking her hips harder against his hand, causing the bed to shake. Then she surprised him by blurting out, “I probably won’t come.”

  “Huh…?” Mick said, looking hazily into her face. He was so aroused, it took a second to process what she’d said.

  “It’s not you; it just takes me a while,” she nearly stammered, her voice thready and a little weak. “And I don’t really know you yet or at all really, so it’s probably…”

  “Shh,” Mick said soothingly. “Just stop talking,” he added in a low, intimate voice—and silenced her with a kiss.

  Not going to come? his mind echoed. Like hell. He wasn’t about to give up that easily. But he changed his approach. He stilled his hand at first. Then began stroking her again but more gently, easing up on that frenetic pace so she wouldn’t feel under pressure.

  Shifting gears, he kissed Cady languorously. He stroked her more slowly, tenderly, teasingly…sucking her neck, caressing her breasts, circling her clit with his thumb…stimulating her over and over until Cady started really heating up. Finally, she was starting to lose herself, to forget about being self-conscious. Greedily, then, she reached for him. “I want to touch you,” she said, her voice suddenly urgent.

  Mick shut his eyes, thinking, God, this is it, and helped her shed his boxer-briefs. Then Cady was stroking him. Though he almost couldn’t bear for her to stop, he was already so turned on, he had to get himself in check if they were going to have sex. If they were going to have only one night, Mick was going to give Cady one hell of an only-one-night. Call it male pride, but he wanted to be the best she ever had.

  “Wait, I have to get the condom,” Mick began, before Cady stopped him.

  “Actually,” she blurted and pushed back a little, “I don’t think we should have sex. I’m sorry—can I just finish you like this?” she asked, giving Mick’s cock a meaningful and extremely arousing squeeze. “I just…it’s been a while for me and I’ve never had sex with anyone except for my ex-boyfriend,” she went on, and Mick saw her face change. Shit. The shyness was back. Passion and wildness were being shoved out of the way by caution. Unexpectedly, it kind of twisted his heart. He wanted hot, lustful Cady back, the girl who was enjoying herself, not I-never-have-fun Cady, over-thinking everything. Hell. “I hope you're not mad,” she added softly.

  “Hey…” Mick said, shifting so they were lying face-to-face. Curling Cady in his arms, he said, “I’m not mad. C’mere…” Either the ex-boyfriend had done a number on her or she was more repressed than Mick had originally suspected, because she was suddenly all tense. “Relax,” he murmured. Then he leaned his head down to kiss her lips, gently at first, and when she responded almost instantly, sliding her tongue in his mouth, he let his hand wander down her back and over her ass. “Forget sex,” he told her huskily. “Just let me kiss you.”

  They kissed deeply, sensually—until they became impatient for more and then they were kissing feverishly. “Can I touch you again?” he rasped.

  “Yes…” she whispered brokenly, sounding on the cusp of wild again.

  As he was touching her, Cady encircled him with her hand. Mick began rubbing her clit with his thumb again, using circular motions that seemed to rev her up, and soon she was saying, “Oh my God…I…I…” and he knew she was close. Damn, yes—he was glad he hadn’t just given up. She was about to climax, he could tell. He could feel her muscles tightening up and her clit was full-on throbbing now, he kept circling and then he pressed down on her. She started to come. He could feel it as she cried out and clung to him.

  When her eyes opened, her pupils were dilated hugely and she looked dazed. “Oh my God,” she whispered, sounding utterly, fantastically shocked. It made him wonder how many orgasms the ex-boyfriend had even given her.

  Before Mick could ask Cady to finish him, or more likel
y just tighten his hand around hers, which was still resting on his cock, she rolled up on her knees and crouched down to…Jesus Christ, she was going to take him in her mouth. Fucking amazing, Mick thought as he flopped backward on her mattress and felt Cady’s mouth, still puffy and wet from kissing him, slide over his cock.

  “God…” he groaned thickly. “Shit, yes…” he urged her as she sucked and licked him with such abandon that the blow-job last all of eight seconds before he exploded. And she fucking swallowed—all of it, even moaning as he was climaxing in her mouth. Hot As Hell.

  When Mick’s pulse calmed down and he’d stopped panting and could finally get his head straight again, he realized that Cady had climbed up beside him. He slanted his half-closed eyes toward her and grinned. With a sigh, she smiled at him, her eyes beginning to shut, and soon they were both asleep.

  Chapter Six

  They slept for a few hours before Mick was awakened by a persistent and annoying buzzing. In his dream, it was a giant Icelandic beetle sitting at a desk, buzzing loudly as she graded Mick’s history paper. Then, groggily, Mick realized it was actually his phone. He climbed out of Cady’s bed to retrieve it from his jeans, which were lying on the floor.

  “Yeah,” he said to Quinn, who sounded wide-awake.

  “Hey, where are you?”

  “Um…I’m with someone right now,” Mick said quietly. “What’s up?”

  “Nada. We’re going for waffles and beer, remember?”

  “Shit, I forgot,” Mick said. Though The Fry House, an all-night waffle and beer joint on Kingston Street, would not have rated higher than hooking up with Cady Killoren even if Mick had remembered.

  Quinn sounded conspiratorial as he said, “Hey, is it that chick from the bar?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Mick said.

  “Still?” Quinn said, surprised. “We left you hours ago. How long does it take? Are you Sting, or something?” he joked.

  Mick rolled his eyes. “All right, douche. Conversation over.”

  “Well, we’ll be at The Fry House if you want to meet up,” Quinn offered.

  “Nah, man, count me out.”

  “Wow, she’s an allnighter, huh?” Quinn said.

  Mick glanced over his shoulder at Cady on the bed. She was sound asleep, her mouth partly open, her chest rising and falling deeply. She had slipped on a tee shirt and panties earlier and now was half on Mick’s pillow. Automatically, he grinned at the endearing picture of her. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  Though it was just as well they hadn’t slept together. Cady Killoren was obviously a sweet girl and sex meant something to her. While Mick was extremely attracted to her, he was also pretty sure that he didn’t want anything serious right now, with anyone. The truth was, he hadn't had a serious girlfriend in a while and, as selfish as it might be, he’d gotten used to his freedom. Not having to check in and answer to someone, just doing his own thing...well, it was nice, he couldn’t lie.

  Or maybe I'm assuming too much, Mick thought, looking at Cady as she slept soundly—and adorably—her long dark hair spilling past her shoulder. After all, she'd been the one to stipulate one night, no strings. Why shouldn't Mick assume that she meant it?

  Then he realized that Quinn was still talking. “That girl, Torie, blew me off at the party,” he mentioned. “But it was just as well, because I ended up meeting some way hotter girls.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mick said, humoring him, though he wasn’t necessarily convinced. With Quinn, you never knew what to believe. “Listen, bro, I’ll catch you guys later.”

  “Yep.”

  Once they disconnected, Mick climbed back into bed beside Cady. He was pleasantly surprised when she rolled closer and even threw her arm around him. Damn, she smelled good. He didn’t know if it was her hair or just her.

  Then she stirred again. This time, her leg rubbed against his and he started getting a little turned on…until her leg climbed up on top of his, her knee getting closer to his groin…and now he was very turned on. Animal instinct propelled him to shift closer, to turn and she turned too, her eyes still closed but their bodies coming together, almost magnetically, and then Mick’s hands were running up under her tee shirt, and she was sighing softly and climbing on top of him, and then they were kissing.

  It was so seamless, effortless, their mouths just seemed to fuse and in seconds, the smoking-hot chemistry took over. His blood was roaring as Cady kissed him hungrily, grinding her body on his. Mick slid his hand between their bodies, edging Cady’s panties out of the way and used his fingers on her the same way he had before. In this position and from this angle, she got even more into it, letting Mick actively fuck her with his hand. She was crying out each time he drove his fingers deeper—almost roughly, but still taking care with her—and soon she was climaxing and whispering almost incoherently about how good it felt.

  Then he brought her hand to his cock. When their mouths locked again, Cady sighed, moaning softly as she sank into his kiss. She stroked him, slowly at first, then quickened her pace and Mick grunted thickly, opening his eyes to look at her.

  His blood ran hotly through his veins, his pulse pounding, as he watched Cady work him up more and more. Even as his eyes slid closed again, his mind stayed filled with her—her scent, her breath, a potent awareness of her—until finally his self-restraint broke. Mick kissed her harder and climaxed with a ragged groan.

  The soft sound of Cady's sigh was probably the last thing he heard before falling into a deep, sated sleep.

  In the morning, Mick’s phone was beeping. Shit, that was his alarm for his American Revolution class. It all flooded back to him. His unfinished paper on the Boston Tea Party. His night with Cady.

  Totally worth it.

  Now he needed to get out of there, to get home and shower, and then to see if he could charm his professor with some excuse. She seemed pretty reasonable; hopefully she’d let him turn the paper in later without penalizing his grade.

  Hastily, Mick got out of bed, turned off the alarm so it wouldn’t wake Cady, put on his boxer-briefs and jeans, pulled his shirt over his head, shoved his feet in his shoes. Then he paused. She was still asleep; he could leave now, no awkward conversations. Or he could kiss her goodbye—but that could lead to an awkward conversation. Or more hooking up… Either way, he didn’t have the time.

  Still, he did like her, so he was torn as to how to play this. She’d said one night only, so he could leave now and he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Then again, he didn’t want to be an unfeeling dick about this.

  Impulsively, he took a pen and sticky pad off of Cady’s desk. After he scribbled a note, he stuck it on the mirror above the dresser. He could hear from her breathing that Cady was still fast asleep. With one last lingering look at her, he grabbed his jacket and left.

  Chapter Seven

  It was three days later that Cady broke down and pulled out the sticky note from Mick that she had saved in her top drawer. A sticky note from a one-night stand, what was she thinking? She barely knew anything about Mick, besides that he was sexy in bed and seemed to be a decent guy. She remembered waking up a few times in the night and finding Mick’s arm around her, cuddling her as they slept. And then there was the note he’d left her.

  She had promised herself she would not take the bait. Hadn’t she said one night and that was it? Hadn’t she meant it?

  She’d told Mick that she couldn’t afford to get distracted with a guy—a sentiment that was based on her past experience. When Cady first started dating Wes, she'd gotten so invested in him that she’d lost her focus, barely concentrating on school. She even missed the dean’s list once, which her brother, Rex, still teased her about.

  As it was, Cady was still trying to figure out what to do after graduation. What she needed was a singular, clear purpose, not an infatuation. Could she afford to get all boy-obsessed again?

  On the other hand...

  She was a freshman when she met Wes, and therefore extremely immature. Of course she’d gone
boy-crazy back then. But she was a senior now—and Mick was hardly a boy.

  Not only was he a man, but he was an older man. Granted, it was only by two years, but to Cady, twenty-four and twenty-two just sounded worlds apart in terms of life experience.

  Now she found herself tapping her thumb restlessly against the note, as her eyes coasted over Mick’s sloppy handwriting for the thousandth time. If you change your mind about “one night only”…call me. And then his number. Straightforward, nothing cheesy, just mature and simple.

  Just then Cady’s phone rang, startling her for a second. Her first impulse was to ignore it, but then she saw it was her dad calling. She had a soft spot for the poor guy, who wasn’t handling his divorce very well. Cady's mom had served him with papers after twenty-eight years of marriage, and soon after, she’d joined a privately-funded dig in Greece that had no scheduled end-date. As a professor emeritus, Cady’s mom, Hortense, had no obligations that would keep her from going. After all, her kids were grown and her marriage dismantled, with lawyers taking care of any finishing touches.

  Hortense had been away for nearly two months now. Even though they Skyped weekly, Cady missed knowing she was nearby, and secretly longed for her to return.

  In Hortense's defense, she had tried on numerous occasions to convey to Cady’s father that she was unfulfilled in their union. (Cady wished she were paraphrasing, but her mother had actually said “unfulfilled in our union.”) Yet her gripes apparently fell on Brandall Killoren’s selectively deaf ears.

  “Cadence,” Hortense had explained in a stern voice that perfectly matched her stout, solid frame and robust ego, “Certainly I have tried, but it’s become a fruitless endeavor. You must understand: much of my life is spent studying that which has gone dry, eroded, died and fossilized. When I can't distinguish my work from my marriage, that is a problem.”