by Marie Harte
“Like you have to tell me that.” He snorted. He settled on a Marvel movie on Netflix, content to watch superheroes kick ass. Considering he’d spent his youth buried in comics, living on fantasies of superpowers and being anywhere but with his “mother,” his addiction to superhero movies was a no-brainer.
She turned to him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
He felt himself relaxing for the first time since being in her presence.
“Do all men want slammin’ seductress types? Is it always about sex with guys?”
The hardon from hell returned with a vengeance.
He refused to look her way. She sounded sad, and he wanted to jump her. Yep, two people living in completely separate worlds. “Well, I can’t speak for all guys.”
“Yeah, but you’re a man. I need a man’s perspective.”
“Fine.” He gave a loud exhale. “No, it’s not always about sex. I mean, sure, the initial attraction is physical. You like what a chick looks like, you want to talk to her. Get in bed with her. But if you’re talking about a relationship” —of which I am in no way an expert— “then I think the sex, though important, is less important than how two people get along.” He paused, and when she didn’t say anything, he continued. “I mean, I haven’t dated all that much. And yeah, I like sex with a woman I’m attracted to. But to be a couple, I’d have to want to get to know her. To want her to get to know me. I’m not just a fuck machine. I’m a man with likes and dislikes, and it would be nice if she learned some of them because she wanted to.”
How many times had he wished someone liked him for more than his brawn? Or because he had a brain and not because he looked or acted like the proverbial bad boy? So pathetic that he’d had only two major girlfriends in his entire life, and neither had stuck around for longer than a few months. Fuck, now he was feeling down. He straightened his back against the cushions, still sitting up, the rest of him sprawled out on the chaise.
“Huh.” That was all she said.
After a moment, he’d calmed down enough that he could glance over at her without wanting to jump her. She seemed engrossed in the superhero movie, no more mention of sex or what men wanted. He didn’t know whether to be disappointed or amused.
They watched the movie in companionable silence, which should have been weird but wasn’t. Erin’s presence didn’t feel intrusive. She didn’t make any noise, just sat there, near him but not next to him. And he liked having her there, oddly enough.
He kept taking subtle note of her expression. She laughed at the funny parts of the movie and looked enthralled at the action sequences he liked to watch over and over again. He wouldn’t have thought Erin the type to like the action, but she looked entertained.
Fortunately, she said no more about kisses or seducing men. Because his cock couldn’t handle the pressure. His jeans had been too tight all night long, his erection coming and going with her soft breath, her smiles, her laughter.
It didn’t help that her smile lit up her face, and her eyes dominated her features, the light color so striking, it was all he could do not to stare at her. He didn’t want to give off creepy vibes though, so he did his best to pretend to watch the movie.
At the end, he stretched, wondering if he ought to tell her to go or ask her to stay longer. It had passed ten, and he normally hit the rack around this time when he had an early morning ahead of him. “So, you want to—” He cut off abruptly when Erin settled over him, straddling his hips.
“Smith?” She gently placed her hands on his shoulders.
His entire body turned to stone. “What are you doing?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can’t ask me something from over there?” He nodded to her previous spot on the couch, his arms along the edges of the couch. He gripped the cushions for dear life.
“No. I can’t.” She leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. It was there and gone in seconds, but he felt it to his bones.
“Look.” He had to clear his throat to speak. “You had a little too much to drink tonight. I get it. Maybe it’s time you went home and—”
“Don’t you want to kiss me back?”
Was she on crack? Hell, yes! “You want the truth? I want to fuck you back, until you’re bowlegged and praying my name. But no way in hell am I touching you.” Tonight at least. To prove it, he gripped the cushions even harder, his fingers bloodless. “You need to get off me and go home before you do something you’ll regret. You’ll feel pretty stupid about this in the morning, but you’ll thank me for it.” He gave her a strained smile, the best he could do considering his cock threatened to break off.
Unfortunately, she smiled back at him. “You were so sweet when I broke down at Cody’s. And you’re sweet now, being all noble since you think I’m drunk.”
“I’m not noble.”
“I’m not drunk.” She leaned closer to whisper, “And I’m not in any way under the influence. I just want to feel…” She paused and licked her lips.
He groaned, wanting that mouth to move lower, to lick slower, and maybe to open wide and suck. “Feel what?” he asked hoarsely, even knowing it to be foolish to encourage her.
“To feel like I matter,” she answered, her vulnerability too fucking honest, too real.
He knew he’d regret this. Knew it to be a huge-ass mistake, but he couldn’t deny her. “I don’t think you know what you want. And I’m not all that sure you aren’t a little tipsy.”
“I had two drinks hours ago, not to mention a lot of water since.”
“Well I’m not moving from this spot. You want to prove something to yourself, go head. But don’t expect me to do anything about it.” There. That should send her home.
Instead, she stroked his shoulders, her hands so damn warm, and smiled at him. “Perfect. You stay right there and don’t move. I promise I’ll go when I’m done.”
“Done?” What did done mean?
To his shock, Erin lowered herself, so that she straddled his groin, sitting over an arousal he couldn’t mask. She gasped as she ground against him.
“Oh. That is nice.” She leaned forward and kissed him again, forceful yet still sweet and soft.
She made everything worse as she rocked against him, riding him while she kissed his cheeks, his throat, then sucked on his neck.
Smith was close to coming in his pants. He nearly shot off the couch and clenched the cushions, deserving a medal for keeping mostly still. If only his damn hips would listen. “Erin…”
“Just a few seconds more,” she moaned.
Jesus, she was getting herself off while she rubbed all over him. Her mouth returned to his, and he kissed her, fucking her with his tongue the way he wanted to with the rest of his body. She sucked him deeper, and that made everything worse.
She kissed her way to his ear, whispering words that made no sense. And her little pants and groans made their fondling so fucking hot. She ran her hands over his chest and abdomen, the heat bleeding through his thin tee-shirt.
“Oh, yes, yes,” she moaned as she ground harder and sucked his throat, coming and shuddering and pushing him way over the edge.
“Fuck, yes,” he hissed and threw his head back as he came in his pants, the orgasm shattering. He shuddered and arched into her, the contact as stimulating as her scent, her taste.
After a moment, he came back to himself to find her forehead tucked against the crook in his neck, her hands stroking his chest and arms, petting him as he came back down.
She lifted her head to look down at him, and her smile lit up the entire room.
“Thanks for tonight. You’re fun, Smith.” She rose to her feet, steady as a rock, then turned and headed for her purse on the counter. At the door, she paused and winked at him. “What’s your favorite kind of cookie?”
Too confused to do anything but answer, he said, “Molasses.”
“Good to know.” She waved and left.
He stared at the back o
f his front door in stunned silence, realized he continued to breathe hard, then swore at the mess the girl next door had made in his pants.
“What the hell did she do to me?”
And how could he get her to do it again?
Chapter Five
Erin hadn’t seen Smith in three days. She’d been so busy with her editing and work for Tilly that she hadn’t spared him much thought. What a crock. She thought about him every five seconds. But she’d been trying not to think about him.
Not an easy feat considering she’d ridden the man to orgasm after knowing him for only a week.
How strange to feel so proud of that fact. She grinned to herself as she finished preparing Tilly’s meal for the evening and readied to drop it off. There. Now she deserved to think about the best sex with a man she’d ever had. Clothed or unclothed.
For the first time ever, Erin had been the aggressor. She laughed to think of the poor man, not sure what to do with her. Smith had looked a little wild around the eyes when she’d straddled him. No matter that she’d tried to convince him of her sobriety, he wouldn’t make a move on her. So she’d made hers on him.
He hadn’t complained. If he’d said no or told her to leave, she would have. She wondered how many of Smith’s past girlfriends—or lovers—had ever seduced him. Not that Erin had, exactly. She’d had an orgasm from some kisses and that large bulge between Smith’s legs. She thought he’d had an orgasm as well, but she couldn’t be sure. He’d squeezed the heck out of the couch though.
She laughed again. How liberating to sexually indulge and not feel badly afterward. Then again, she hadn’t had real sex. No touching or penetrating, no fondling body parts if she didn’t count touching his firm, muscular chest. And land alive, that man had huge biceps. Just thinking about them made her fingers curl.
The room started to grow warm, and Erin fanned herself. So okay, she was superficial for liking Smith for his looks. But she also liked him for being so mindful of her state of mind, for trying to take care of what he’d considered a vulnerable woman.
She sighed. Smith. So handsome and sexy.
And so unavailable.
Had it been an accident or on purpose that they hadn’t crossed paths since the bar on Thursday night? The old Erin would have been heartbroken and full of self-doubt. But the new Erin loved that she didn’t mind him being absent. It didn’t bother her in the slightest. And she hadn’t been listening for him for the past few days. Nope. She’d been way too busy to care what he thought and did. And so what if it was already Sunday and he still hadn’t stopped by? She didn’t care at all. Not when she had a life to lead.
All the energy she’d been putting into work had paid off. She had several of Tilly’s meals prepared well in advance of next week and already delivered. She also had next week’s edits done through Wednesday.
So, what to do with the rest of her weekend? At four o’clock on a Sunday in Seattle, a woman could do just about anything. Erin had decided to bake Smith cookies. Oh yeah, I’m a rabble rouser, all right.
She swallowed a sigh, allowing herself to become the new Erin by increments. Still a lady, but one who intended to own her sexuality, Erin planned on having sex if it felt comfortable, whether or not she planned on dating her partner. It would be safe but fun, and she refused to feel guilt afterwards.
Considering the only man in the city she knew of—not counting despicable Cody—was Smith, she wondered if she ought to go out and expand her horizons. But who could she ask to introduce her around? The question bothered her while she worked, so she turned toward other avenues of change.
Social life—working on it.
The job—time to get a few more editing clients.
Cooking show—request to use Tilly’s kitchen and hope she says yes.
Family—answer the phone.
“Hello?” she answered as she finished placing the baked cookies on a tray to cool.
“Erin? It’s Mom.”
“Hi, Mom.” I will be patient. I will. And I will get her to treat me like an adult. “How are you?”
“Oh fine, honey. I just thought I’d check in.” As she’d checked in the day before. And the day before that.
“Mom, we talked less when I lived down the street from you.”
Her mother laughed. “I know. I just miss my baby.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “What’s new in Colby?”
Twenty minutes of small-town gossip from the dentist’s office, where her mother worked as a hygienist, followed by another fifteen minutes of her father’s antics at the hardware store he managed, had given the cookies enough time to cool.
Erin tested one and moaned.
“What did you say?” her mother asked.
“Just tasting one of the cookies I baked for my neighbor.” And kind-of-not-really lover.
Hmm. Should she ask Smith to volunteer his time and body for her sexuality self-help project? Or should she ask him to introduce her to friends? He hadn’t said anything to her since their mutual kissing on the couch. She took that as a sign of disinterest.
Just as she started to feel a tinge of embarrassment for her behavior, she knocked the shame away. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Instead, she’d taken charge of her life and had fun for once.
“Erin? Erin, are you there?”
She realized she hadn’t heard anything her mother had been saying. “Oh, sorry. I think I lost you for a minute.” Due to my girl power fantasy. “What did you say, Mom?”
“I asked about your neighbor. Are you making friends? Have you talked to Cody since you broke it off with him?”
“No.” She’d given her mother a brief explanation about Cody, mostly stating she’d made a mistake, not that Cody had been two-timing her. Bad enough her mother now knew she’d been right about Cody not being the man for her daughter. Erin didn’t want to compound her mother’s I-told-you-so moment by letting her know she’d been correct about his loose character too. “Cody and I are done, I think. It’s for the best.”
“The best. Right.” A large pause. “When are you coming home?”
“Mom, we talked about this. Seattle is my new home. I want to see what it’s like to live in the big city, away from family for a while. I need to be independent.”
“But you can still be independent here. You could move to cousin Edna’s apartment, the one over her garage? She’s on the other side of town.” A whole fifteen minutes away. “Bob? Bob, come here. It’s Erin on the phone.”
Erin sighed. Great. Now she had to talk to her father again. She loved her parents, but they acted as if she was still in high school. Her father refused to believe his youngest daughter could live on her own. At least her mom trusted her to be able to balance a checkbook and fend for herself.
“Erin,” her father said as he took the phone from her mother. “How are you, honey? We miss you. When are you coming home?”
“I’m not, Dad. I’m good here.”
“In Seattle?” He huffed. “Bunch of hipsters and rich people drinking coffee all day. What do they have out there we don’t have in Colby?”
Smith Ramsey, for one. She cleared her throat and her dirty mind. “I need to be on my own, Dad. Trust me, I’m fine out here. I have friends.”
A friend. Two if she counted Tilly.
“Who are these friends?” he asked with suspicion.
“In fact, I’m making my neighbor cookies. He helped me move my things when it didn’t work out with Cody. He’s a really nice man.”
“Nice man, eh?” Her father groaned. “Men aren’t nice. They’re dogs. Don’t trust him. And did you get those locks for your door I told you about?”
Having parents who worked for a hardware store and dentist had ensured Erin knew how to fix things around the house and to have clean teeth. She knew he meant well, so she answered in a chipper tone. “I’m all set. The building is safe with great neighbors on either side of me.” Not a lie. She had the stairwell on one side of her and Smith on the other. But tr
y telling her father she lived right next to an accessible entry point and he’d imagine her at the mercy of criminals hanging around stairwells. “I have a chain lock and a deadbolt. No sliding backdoor for a balcony or anything. I told you. The windows all lock too. The place is solid, and my landlady looks after everyone. They’re all so nice. It’s like a family here.” The half-truths continued to pile on.
“Well, good. I like you being looked after.”
“How’s Joy doing? Has she called lately?”
He launched into stories about Joy and Tim and the grandkids, giving her a break about living so far away.
By the time she disconnected, her parents felt better about her living in the city, and she considered her one-way trip to hell for all the lying she’d been doing. Yes, she wanted her parents to feel fine with her being away, but she should have been able to tell them the truth. How could they respect her if they didn’t know the real Erin, the one capable of so much more than living in their shadow?
But she was still finding her way, she thought, and gave herself a break. It took guts to live alone, away from everything she knew. And it took even more guts to get back out in the social scene after living for someone else for so long. Screw Cody Williams. Erin didn’t need a man to make her feel complete. A husband and kids? Who needed that?
“I do.” She hated herself for wanting what she’d been raised to believe awaited a woman set on the right path. “I can do whatever I want to and be a ‘good girl’ because it’s my life. I don’t owe anyone any apologies,” she said to the delectable molasses cookies she placed into a plastic container.
She continued to reaffirm herself as she tidied up her small kitchen.
Once finished, she took a good hard look at her apartment and wondered how Tilly would feel if she repainted it a better color. Anything but orange.
Someone banged on the door, startling her.
She set the cookies on the counter and moved to look through her peephole. She opened the door with a smile. “Hello, Smith.”