What's a Girl to Do?

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What's a Girl to Do? Page 7

by Aimee Duffy


  Shey planted her hands on his chest and he slid two fingers inside her. They both gasped, and she clenched her muscles around the digits, needing more to magically appear. She wanted to be filled, and not with his fingers.

  ‘Calvin…’ The word was a plea, spoken into his mouth.

  He backed off and withdrew his hand from between her legs. ‘I know. I wanted to make sure you’re ready.’

  Ready? She was ten miles past frantic.

  Calvin urged her to wrap her legs around his hips, and she obliged. The movement had his erection prodding against her stomach, and God had it grown again? Shey didn’t care. She wanted him inside her, and tilted her hips, hoping he’d take the hint.

  Instead, he kissed her again, with less force this time. His lips moved like he had all the time in the world, which they didn’t. Not as far as she was concerned.

  Taking matters into her own hands, she tried to maneuver him to her entrance, but he only thrust enough to put the tip in. Shey bit her lip as Calvin’s breath hissed out. This was going to hurt, he was stretching her already, but the pain would be worth it if he knew what he was doing.

  ‘You need a minute.’ His voice was tight as he pulled back.

  Shey grabbed his erection and used the strength in her legs to pull him close. But he resisted, and she wasn’t really a match at all.

  ‘I need you inside me,’ she argued.

  He laughed, but it was strained. ‘Okay. Let me try this again.’

  His fingers brushed against her clit, light as a feather this time, and the sensations were extreme. Little jolts of pleasure spilled out from her centre and, as he swirled the tip of a finger around her, heat raged in her stomach, loosening her muscles and preparing for another mind-blowing orgasm.

  She grabbed onto his biceps and met his gaze. Those hazel eyes were so dark they looked almost black, but somehow still managed to burn. His jaw had tightened, and the hard lines of his face grew more pronounced.

  Then it hit her. He was holding back because he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable. Not hurting her was so important to him he was fighting his own urges. And further back, the first time they were alone he let her walk away, sensing her turmoil. He wanted her to feel safe with him. And she did. Implicitly.

  But it was so much more than that for Shey. Calvin had done everything she hated a guy doing. She’d bent all her rules for him, hadn’t even kicked up a fuss when he’d defended her at the restaurant and the reasoning was becoming too clear. This was more than just screwing, and she suspected it was like that for him too. Nothing else could explain the possessive comment about making her forget other men, and his withdrawal afterward.

  But that wasn’t what this was supposed to be about. Feelings were dangerous. Feelings made people make bad decisions. It was the only helpful thing her mother had taught her, and made it possible for Shey to keep some sort of detachment from the men she dated.

  With Calvin, all bets really were off.

  And didn’t that give her such chills the building orgasm subsided, leaving her cold.

  He stopped, his eyes searching hers until she dipped her head to hide her expression. But he wasn’t having that. Not Calvin. He tilted her chin up again and the hard lines of his control were replaced with worry, cracking her wide open.

  ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’ His voice was soft, despite the demand.

  She wanted to tell him that she was falling for him. That would be one way to make sure they didn’t go any further, because he’d done the marriage thing already and she got the impression that road was one he’d never go near again.

  ‘I don’t think I can keep this… casual.’

  He dropped her chin like she’d given him an electric shock, and didn’t that sting like a bitch?

  ‘Shey, I don’t do relationships. You know that.’ He raked a shaky hand through his hair.

  She wished she wasn’t so naked. ‘I know, which is why I had to tell you.’

  He sucked in a desperate breath, like oxygen was going out of fashion, and something in his eyes shifted. It wasn’t fear, or anger, or even the disinterest she’d imagined. ‘Tell me what you need from this.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Any of it. She’d expected him to insist she dressed and have her in a cab as quickly as possible.

  ‘Do you want exclusive? I can do that.’

  ‘What?’ Her blood ran hot again, but it wasn’t lust. ‘Like you’d been planning to fuck other women while we were together?’

  Calvin cursed, and he was lucky he backed off because she was ready to swing for him.

  ‘I’m leaving.’

  She didn’t get the wardrobe door open. He was right there, turning her around and closing her in.

  ‘I wouldn’t have. Couldn’t.’ The fact he looked surprised by the admission pissed her off more.

  ‘Let me go, Calvin.’

  ‘Not until you tell me what you want.’

  Seething, her voice got louder. ‘Why, so you can kick me to the curb when you’ve had your fill and want someone else?’

  ‘I haven’t even looked at another woman since I saw you last Friday! When I close my eyes it’s you I see, Shey. No one else. It scares the shit out of me.’

  Her mouth dropped open and her anger fled. His fear, so like her own, and the brutal honesty in his gaze made it hard to doubt him. She’d been right: he was in the same place as her, and somehow that made what she felt only half as scary. But taking this further now could push them both over the edge, until they were somewhere they couldn’t come back from.

  Shey placed her palm against his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the crackle that suffused the air between them, and she knew walking away now wasn’t an option. Her response to him was so great, so immediate, it could burn her.

  Or could turn into the best night of her life. She wanted to find out, and figured she’d survive the rest.

  ‘We need rules so this doesn’t get out of hand,’ she whispered.

  ‘Rules?’

  Shey swallowed. ‘Yes, rules to keep us both from falling.’

  Since she was halfway there the rules would have to stop her falling harder, or let her get away before it became too much.

  ‘Let’s hear them, then.’ His hard tone suggested he wasn’t happy and she couldn’t figure out why.

  ‘We can only do this for two weeks, then it has to end.’ One week just wouldn’t be enough.

  ‘Fourteen nights, whether we spend them all together or over a longer period,’ he countered.

  Spending them together would get them out of the way, but it would be so intense having a day or two off wouldn’t be a bad idea. ‘Deal. And neither of us can sleep with anyone else in that time.’

  He scowled at her, ‘I told you—’

  Shey covered his mouth with her hand. ‘I know, and I believe you. I just want you to know I won’t be seeing other guys either.’

  His hard body relaxed and he slid his hands onto her hips, stepped closer. Her body melted, feeling how ready for her he still was, with his erection standing for her attention. But he didn’t make a move to rush her along with her silly rules, so soon after they’d almost got down to fucking, and that, more than anything, made her realize he was taking her seriously.

  ‘Any more?’ Calvin asked.

  Shey shook her head.

  ‘Do you still want to leave? Try this again another night?’

  The fact he could give her that option when it was so obvious he wanted her made her regret stopping what should have happened. ‘No, and I’m sorry I freaked out.’

  His grin lit up those hazel eyes and left her breathless. ‘Thank God. I think my balls would have fallen off if you left.’

  She cupped them in her hands and he hissed through his teeth. ‘Still feel attached to me.’

  ‘Two can play the teasing game, gorgeous.’

  She was about to apologize, but his mouth came down on hers hard and hungry as his fingers slid inside her. She groaned
into his mouth instead and he took advantage, sliding his tongue in with the same slow, steady thrusts he made inside her.

  Shey released his balls in case she hurt him and instead grabbed on to his solid biceps for support. Calvin flattened her against the door with his big body, squashing her breasts against his smooth chest. His thumb found her pleasure center at the same time his fingers found that place inside that changed everything. And he knew, whether it was from experience or the fact she clenched hard around his fingers. He kept rubbing that spot inside, over and over with increasing pressure, until all she could do was try to breathe right.

  The pressure built higher, faster and more intense than anything she’d experienced. His strokes outside and in were enough to push her pleasure further, beyond any peak she’d known, but it didn’t knock her over the edge. Tears welled in her eyes at the exquisite agony he inflicted.

  Trapped in a prison of pure pleasure, whimpering was the only thing she could do.

  ‘I’ll be inside you when I let you come. I want to feel your body squeeze my cock.’ His voice was hoarse and his breath blew against her face.

  ‘Please.’ It was the best she could manage.

  Calvin withdrew and she almost sobbed, but he picked her up, wrapped her legs around his waist and entered her in one long, easy stroke. Shey’s lids slid shut, feeling every inch of him invading her sensitive channel. It was too much, and yet somehow perfect.

  ‘Look at me, Shey.’

  She did, and saw he was back to fighting for control, but his eyes were filled with more than passion. The connection between them wasn’t just sex, and he must feel it too, why else would he look so wary?

  ‘Fuck me, Calvin I need—’

  He did, hard and fast. Filling her completely, then pulling out almost all the way. Her back hit the cupboard door and every stroke dragged the thick head of his cock over the place his fingers had stroked. The sensations were so much more than that, because she was full to bursting and the look of pure bliss in his eyes revved her higher.

  Shey held onto him, squeezed her muscles around his cock and tried to make it even better for him. Show him how good it was for her.

  With their bodies slicked with sweat, the smell of what she thought was aftershave was stronger, and she realized that it was just him. The perfect scent, her perfect everything.

  Then thinking became impossible. The pressure built and built until she couldn’t breathe, until she didn’t know if she’d survive it when the orgasm hit her. But Calvin didn’t give her time to worry. His expert strokes hit that sensitive place in dragging thrusts, getting faster and harder.

  One of his fingers slid around to her other entrance, one she’d never allowed a man to touch, but he wasn’t anyone, and she trusted him with her body. The pressure on the tingling skin drove her higher, and as his gaze intensified on her his cock hardened inside.

  Then he slipped the tip of his finger into that dark place.

  Shey exploded in a rippling tide, her whole body going into a mindless seizure of pure ecstasy, and her vision went dark. She couldn’t hear over the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears, and had the vague sense of Calvin’s lips on her neck, but only because it caused more pleasure to shoot through her.

  When he stilled, and the crashing waves steadied, she went limp in his arms. He was still deep inside, not completely hard but nowhere near flaccid, and he looked at her like he’d never seen her before.

  ‘I…’ Calvin swallowed. ‘Sweetheart, that was…’

  Yeah, Shey didn’t have words for what it was either. And she didn’t care. Exhaustion made her lids heavy, but that was crazy. She’d hardly done any work.

  ‘I know.’ Her eyes closed and she had to force them open again. ‘Can we go to bed?’ Staying up and getting to know him didn’t seem possible as exhaustion clouded her vision.

  He carried her across the room, not withdrawing from her until the covers had been pulled back. After removing her shoes and tucking her in, he dropped a light kiss to her lips, then disappeared into the bathroom. Shey’s lids slid shut and she wondered if it would be better if she went home, but getting her legs to work didn’t seem possible.

  But then Calvin came back. The bed dipped under his weight and she rolled over to get closer. He still smelled like sex and that fantastic scent of his had intensified. So much so that she felt another stirring of heat in her stomach, but she wasn’t in a fit state to go at it again.

  Pulling her close, Calvin stroked her hair and she kissed his chest. Neither of them spoke as they lay there, and Shey guessed that was because there really weren’t words to describe what had passed between them. Sex had never been like that for her, ever, and she suspected not for him either. Two weeks of this and she’d be lost to him. Shey knew it.

  But the usual fear didn’t come and, as she drifted into a blissful coma, she couldn’t think of a better way to go.

  Chapter Seven

  Even though he’d barely slept, Calvin was awake early. The room was still dark, and as he lay on his back watching the ceiling, he tried to figure out why he liked Shey’s head on his shoulder and her arm around his waist as much as he did.

  By all rights he should have felt trapped, suffocated even, but instead he was stroking her hair, reveling in the feel of her soft exhalations against his chest. He was afraid to wake her to break this moment of intimacy, a moment he usually avoided like the flu.

  Shey stirred, and her eyes opened halfway. ‘Hey.’

  He smiled down at her. ‘Hey.’

  Then her eyes shadowed and she pulled back her arm. Instinctively, he held her close.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… ’ Panic flickered across her face.

  ‘Drool all over me?’ Calvin teased. He hated that she felt any kind of fear around him. ‘I don’t mind.’ He winked.

  Shey shook her head with a smile and snuggled back into him. ‘I don’t drool.’

  ‘Really? Tell that to the pool of saliva on my shoulder.’

  She smacked his side gently and he laughed.

  ‘You’re such a cocky—’

  He pressed his mouth to hers, cutting off whatever insult she was about to throw his way. Her lips were rigid at first, but as he slid his hand down her spine, cupped her backside, she melted into him. Heat flared in his groin and he pulled back. Though her eyes had darkened and he had no doubt she’d be up for round two, it had obviously been a while for her and he hadn’t been gentle last night against the door.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, using his free hand to sweep velvet hair back from her face.

  Shey pouted. ‘Deprived.’

  ‘Later, I promise.’ He dropped a quick kiss to her nose. ‘You owe me breakfast.’

  ‘I’m not going to breakfast in last night’s dress. Talk about the walk of shame.’

  He hugged her closer. ‘I don’t mind breakfast in bed.’

  ‘Lumpy pancakes it is,’ she said.

  ‘You can’t cook?’

  The fire in her eyes as she glared at him told him he’d put his foot in it.

  ‘No, not all women are born with that gene. My mom didn’t think I needed to learn, since she didn’t see much point in eating anything that wasn’t pre-prepared for her with a tiny calorie count.’

  Anger at her mother burned through him in spades, and not because he was sexist and deigned all woman should be tied to a stove, but for the way that drainpipe treated her daughter.

  He’d been lucky. His father had always made a point of being there for Calvin and supported him through everything.

  ‘Your mother doesn’t deserve to call you her daughter.’

  Her eyes widened, but she shrugged. ‘Sometimes I think that, but she prepared me for the real world better than anyone else could have.’

  Calvin’s doubt must have leaked into his expression, because she sighed.

  ‘She told me I could only rely on myself, that if I wanted a career and the best things in life, I had to work for them.
She said that if I let my heart rule my head I’d end up like her, a young single mother whose career was put on hold.’

  This time it was rage that burned through him, so acute he couldn’t hide it. Shey studied his face, but didn’t speak. He couldn’t, not without cussing out her mother. Instead he untangled himself, and crossed to the ensuite.

  ‘I’ll make us pancakes,’ he said, and shut the door.

  ***

  Perched on a chair wearing nothing but a shirt Calvin had given her, she sipped her coffee and watched him expertly beat eggs in a bowl. He’d thrown on a pair of black boxers that really didn’t do much to disguise that fantastic ass of his and for the first time in her life, Shey was up for skipping a meal in favor of taking him back to bed.

  She couldn’t believe he’d gotten angry again over Felicity. It just confused her more. He’d made it clear he was closed off to emotions, which was why she’d panicked first thing. Snuggling felt like breaking rules, but he hadn’t seemed to mind. Either that, or he saw how freaked out she was and tried to reassure her. Still, this was starting to feel like more than two weeks of sex should.

  Shey needed a distraction. ‘How did you learn to cook?’

  He poured some of the batter mix into a pan on the stove. ‘My father taught me when I was young. He was great in the kitchen. Had to be after my mother died.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Shey said.

  Calvin shrugged, but didn’t turn from the stove. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  She watched the muscles work beneath his smooth, bronzed skin and wondered if losing so many people in his life was another reason he thought it was better to go it alone. Not that it should matter, she reminded herself. Mind-blowing sex fizzled out, and Calvin had already said he wasn’t the guy who could promise monogamy or a relationship. She wondered if his ex-wife had killed that part of him, or if it was his own actions that did it.

 

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