by Kendall Ryan
She reaches behind her neck and unties the strings holding her top in place. Loving how bold she is, I toss the fabric away, wanting her completely bare.
Her body rocks against my hand as she unlaces my shorts and pushes her hand inside. I feel her hand curl around me, and she gasps.
“I love how big you are,” she says. Hot pride rips through me. While Mia strokes my cock, I push one finger inside her. Watching her do this to herself while under my command in Paris has fueled my fantasies every day since. Her body grips me and makes a wet sucking sound each time I pump my fingers in and out.
“You’re so wet for me,” I whisper against her lips.
“Yes, only you, Collins, only you.”
I think I understand what she’s telling me. I get her this way. This turned on and wanting. “You still have the tightest pussy I’ve ever felt,” I growl into the side of her neck. I want to be inside her, but I refuse to rush through foreplay like I did the first and last time I fucked her.
She moans and tilts her pelvis closer. I recognize her throaty cries signal that she’s close to orgasm already.
“That’s it, ride it out,” I whisper. Lowering my mouth to her breasts, I treat them to wet kisses, sucking on her nipples and flicking my tongue across their firm peaks.
Mia shatters, moaning out my name as she comes.
Her body trembles when I remove my fingers and she sways on her feet. Her movements still and my body mourns the loss of her touch.
“Come here, I’ve got you.” I guide her over onto the bed, and once she’s settled, I shove my shorts to the floor. Joining her in the center of the mattress, I pull her close. It should feel strange that I’m in bed with a very naked Mia— my friend—but it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Lifting her chin to mine, I kiss her deeply. I hope she understands that I’ve only just begun exploring her body. There’s so much more I want to do. Kissing my way from her lips, to her neck, to her breasts, she giggles when I reach her belly.
“Ticklish?” I ask.
She grins down at me. “You know I am.”
She’s right. I know she’s ticklish on her stomach and under her arms, and I know she’s honest and kind and has the biggest damn heart of anyone I’ve ever met. And I know I wouldn’t trade this moment with her for anything in the world.
“Open for me,” I tell her, moving one of her legs so it’s draped over my shoulder.
“Collins,” she whines.
“Don’t get shy on me now,” I tease. I kiss along her inner thighs, moving from one to the next. “After that night in Paris, I need to taste you.”
She opens for me, her legs spread wide, and I lick her from the top to the bottom until my tongue finds her swollen clit. She whimpers. “Does that feel good?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she manages to gasp.
She runs her fingers through my hair, pressing into me. The only thing that matters is her pleasure, and I throw myself into it fully, sucking and running my tongue over her hot flesh in a pace that quickens as my need to be inside her intensifies. I don’t stop until she’s crying out my name and desperately clinging to my shoulders as she comes apart.
As the spasms slow, and I pull away, her warm eyes refuse to break from mine as I crawl up her body, kissing her neck, her face, her eyelids, and any part of her I can find.
“That’s two,” I say. “Think you can handle one more?”
She blinks at me, seemingly surprised that I’ve been counting her orgasms. Her eyes are glazed over with lust. “I—I don’t know,” she admits.
I chuckle darkly, and stroke her body, running my hands along her smooth skin, lifting her ass to cup in my hands. When I press into her, stimulating her core, a gasp escapes. “That’s what you’re doing to me, Mia,” I growl near her ear. “Is this something you’re ready to deal with?”
Unable to speak, she nods as a low moan escapes her lips.
I’m rock hard and ready when all my wicked plans grind to an excruciating halt. I don’t have a condom. Mia shakes her head, tells me it’s okay. I can only assume that she means she’s on birth control and trusts that I’m disease-free, which I am, but her complete faith in me is astounding. Running my fingers through the long strands of her hair, I watch her eyes, trying to make certain she’s sure. There will be no going back after this, and as much as I hate that I’m rushing it, we’ve spent years building to this exact moment.
With her laying on her back, I kneel before her and angle myself to her center. Her eyes drift closed. “Open them for me,” I say. She opens her eyes and they are dark with her desire. “Keep them open. I want you to watch us. I want you to know it’s me inside you.”
She grunts as I inch forward and meet resistance. I can already tell that my memories of her fitting around me like a hot glove were not overblown. She’s perfect. I feed her my cock, one inch at a time, working myself slowly inside her so she can adjust. She wiggles against the bed and claws at the sheets. But true to my order, her eyes drift between mine and to where our bodies are joined.
“That’s it. Can you take more of me?” I want to pound home hard and fast, but I won’t move until she tells me it’s okay.
“Please, Collins. I want all of you,” she begs.
I press forward as far as I can go and grind against her, stimulating her clit with my length buried fully within. Her breath catches in her throat. There are five painful seconds where I know she can’t breathe, and I watch in agony as she struggles to catch her breath, her mouth open, but her chest still. “Breathe baby.” I lean down and whisper against her lips, withdrawing just a fraction. Her mouth opens and she sucks in air. One shaky breath, and then another. And then she’s clawing her nails down my back, winding her legs around my waist, and she’s writhing against me like she can’t get enough.
Fuck.
Unable to hold back any longer, I set a rhythm, sliding in and out of her warmth. She is mind-blowingly amazing, and I know I won’t ever recover from this, as long as I live. With a loud gasp and her fingers in my hair, Mia comes again. I soon follow, groaning out her name with my face buried against the soft skin of her neck.
Chapter Twenty
Mia
I can’t say how many times I imagined what it would be like if I ever had sex with Collins again. Countless times, each one was a tribute to my memories of our first time, and to how practiced and sure he would be the next time we were together. Each time I imagined being with him, it was incredible.
Yet none of those times can hold a candle to the way it actually played out. He was so attentive, so amazingly responsive to my bodies every need. I know in an instant, he’s ruined me for all other men.
I will never forget that when he came he buried his face against my neck and groaned out my name. That sound on his lips, in his rough voice, breathed against my skin was one of the best moments of my life. And now, his strong arms hold me close, as my body trembles in his arms.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
I shake my head and look up at him embarrassed. “My body is still...” I suppress a smile.
He chuckles, kissing me on the forehead, then pulls me closer against his hot bare chest.
Our first time together had been wonderful, a memory I will forever hold close to my heart. But that first time, just after, I rushed to dress, self-conscious that I’d just seduced my best friend and fled for home, with the excuse that I needed to help my family pack for the move the next day. We hadn’t held each other afterwards and had no time to talk about how it felt.
Here we are, fifteen years later, and now we finally have that chance to hold each other. It feels so right, being here in his strong arms. I know I’m the luckiest woman alive, because in Collins I have the best of both worlds. He’s my closest friend, and now my lover. He knows me better than anyone—inside and out.
“Three.” I say and smile at him through half closed eyes.
“Three times,” he grumbles and smiles back. He knows exactly wh
at I’m counting. “I owed you one or two, for the time back on my father’s boat.” He dips down and kisses me gently on the lips.
I kiss him back. “You don’t owe me anything. I told you, that night was perfect.”
A relaxed smile spreads across his face and fills me with joy. “This is perfect too.”
As I lie in his arms, we talk together about old times, between stealing kisses. He brushes my hair back from my face so gently, I can feel his concern for me in every movement, every tender gesture.
“Thank you for coming out with us on the boat today. It means a lot that you’re here spending time with my family.”
I giggle. “I wouldn’t call what we’re doing right now ‘spending time with your family,’” I say, drawing a line down his firm chest with my finger. I’m tempted to bring my hand down lower, and see if I can entice him for more. But I feel a pang of guilt and stop my hand short, instead saying, “Speaking of your family, maybe we should go back out there and rejoin the group. You being the host and all.” Thank God he has a captain to drive the boat.
I can tell he’s not ready to end our time alone, neither am I, but he sees reason. “Fine, let’s get cleaned up.” He growls as he sits up, and pulls me into his arms. I squeal and wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me into the bathroom.
In the shower we lather the soap together and first he helps me clean off, his rough hands slip smoothly over my back, my arms, my hips. I savor every touch from him, and his hands relish my body’s every curve. Next I help him clean up. My hands slide along his smooth muscular body, appreciating his hard muscles. His six-pack abs are too much for me to resist and I run my fingers down his stomach.
He pulls back laughing.
“Sorry,” I say. “I forgot you’re ticklish, too.”
He quickly pulls me back to him. “You don’t ever need to apologize for touching me,” he says. He reaches behind me and turns the water off, then reaches out and grabs a towel, wrapping it around me.
As we get dressed, there is a knock on the door. “You guys got it out of your system yet?” It’s Pace.
Collins’ eyes darken, and I can see in his reaction that Pace has just broken some guy code, but then Collins meets my eyes and his expression softens once again.
Collins tugs his shorts back on, and checks to make sure I’m covered by my bikini before he answers the door. “This isn’t Dad’s small boat, plenty of other bedrooms to choose from.” His voice drops at the last word as if he’s not seeing who he’d expected beyond the open door. I peak around him and find Pace holding Max’s hand and giggle.
“Hey, little guy,” Collins turns to Max. “What’s up?”
“Max and I were exploring and found the theater room. He was wondering if we could watch a movie. We tried to figure it out without you, but we can’t seem to find the remote, and nothing works without that thing.”
“Of course we can watch a movie,” Collins says. He slips his hand around mine, and we all head to the theater to find everyone else already in there. Sophie and Colton have claimed one of the four love seats, Kylie is sitting on another, and Max runs over to join her.
“What movie should we watch?” Collins asks as he pulls the remote out of a hidden panel in the wall. We take one of the unclaimed seats and he wraps his arm around me. I curl up against his side.
“Gremlins!” Max shouts. I realize it’s an odd request right away. I was born the year the movie came out, and only know about it because of my old thrift store shirt, the one I wore the first time Collins saved me.
Sophie giggles, “What’s Gremlins?”
Kylie turns back to her, “It’s the movie Collins named his boat after.”
Pace laugh-snorts. “Yeah, that’s right, Collins named his boat after an eighties movie.” His voice drips with sarcasm.
Colton joins him laughing. “Yeah, he just can’t get enough of those cute furry creatures.”
Sophie jabs Colton in the side. “What? What’s so funny?”
Pace is laughing so hard he can’t answer, but Colton finally manages. “He named his boat after his first love.” His voice is teasing.
Sophie and Kylie look at the guys as if they’re nuts.
I feel my cheeks flush and attempt to hide my face in Collins’ chest.
“Gremlin is his nickname for Mia,” Colton finishes.
“Awe,” Sophie and Kylie both sing out at the same time. Their eyes are full of envy.
I give them both a meek grin. Then look up at Collins, expecting him to be angry at his brothers for breaking the guy code again. I’m surprised to find his eyes, kind and caring, staring lovingly back into mine. He chuckles and kisses the top of my head. Apparently, he’s totally okay with this round of jabs. And more than that, he’s not denying it. He’s not even embarrassed by his brothers calling me his first love. My heartbeat kicks up, and I reach up and kiss him.
“Ugh,” Pace says. “Get a room.”
The others laugh. Then he thinks better of it. “Never mind. We’d never see you again. Stay, but let’s keep things PG.” He squeezes into the loveseat next to Max and Kylie, throwing his arm around Max as if to emphasize why we are keeping things PG.
Collins says, “Right, Gremlins.” He pulls out the remote and locates the movie easily on one of his satellite services.
“You’ve seen this, right?” he asks me.
I shake my head.
“You mean all this time you just let me call you gremlin, and you weren’t even curious?”
“I knew from the shirt it’s a cute little fuzzy creature.”
Collins shakes his head incredulously and sets the movie to play. He dims the lights, and I settle in next to him. The others all settle in too. I look around me, feeling warmed by their company. I know that we haven’t talked seriously about our future, but still, being here with him, and with his family, everything just feels right. I wonder, and hope that gatherings like this one might become a tradition. I’d love to be able to look forward to family day on the boat each Sunday.
I realize that when I showed up here several weeks ago I was ashamed and embarrassed by my situation and am happy to find that is no longer the case. Now I know I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. I feel wanted. And I love it.
Collins leans down and whispers that we should stay the night on the boat and I gaze up at him, my heart filled to bursting.
Chapter Twenty-One
Collins
I power down my laptop, and gather up my belongings from my desk. It’s Friday, time to start the weekend, and can’t wait to spend it with Mia. Dating Mia Monroe is an experience I was wholly unprepared for. She’s fun and carefree and easy going. Nothing like the Botoxed, uptight women I’ve been with since moving to LA.
Mia and I have been casually dating for the past two weeks. We’ve been to the ballet, made a trip to a world-renowned winery, and attended a designer’s first showing of a jewelry collection—during which, Mia actually yawned. It’s time to change up my game. This is Mia. My Mia. And tonight I’ve got something perfect planned. At least I hope I do.
Smiling to myself as I stroll toward the elevator, I say goodbye to a few dedicated employees who are still here after five o’clock on a Friday. There was an office-poll about my recent transformation. Apparently I look more rested, smile more often, and just seem happier. Shit, one brave soul even asked if I’d had work done, implying I’d gotten plastic surgery. They thought I was unaware of the whispering and quiet conversations had behind cubicle walls. But I wasn’t. In fact I was as curious about this transformation as they were. At first, they assumed my twenty-three-year-old supermodel girlfriend was responsible for the smile on my face. But then they’d seen Mia bring me lunch one day—a steak sandwich from my favorite deli—and realized I was no longer dating Tatianna. I didn’t say a word. I actually thought the whole thing was quite humorous. Besides, it was none of their damn business. I felt happy and ten years younger, and it wasn’t just the fantastic sex I was having. It
was because Mia brought out the best in me. I grin as I pass by a particularly chatty administrative assistant. Raising one eyebrow, her gaze darts away from mine and she begins frantically typing on her keyboard. I have a feeling if I look closer, it’ll all be gibberish. “Good night, Miss Corrigan,” I say.
“Good night, sir,” she squeaks.
Chuckling to myself, I punch the button for the elevator that will take me to the underground parking garage. Picturing how the night’s events will go, I can’t help the satisfied grin that uncurls on my mouth. Mia is going to be beside herself when she sees what I have planned.
It’s also the night I’m going to tell her that I want her to officially move in with me—not just crash in a guest room with her things tucked away in a suitcase that she could tow away at a moment’s notice, but to move into my bedroom with me. Share my home with me. I’m excited as shit, and I know if I admitted any of this to my brothers, they’d accuse me of growing a vagina. But things beneath my trousers have never been better. In fact, I felt like a teenager again, growing hard at the mere thought of Mia—often at inopportune times, like in a staff meeting. I pull out my cell and text her.
I have something fun planned tonight. Dress casual.
She replies just as I’m settling into my car.
I can’t wait to see you. I’m leaving work now.
She’s begun working at a big law firm downtown in their accounting department, and she says she loves it. As long as she’s happy. Mia has taught me so much, most of which is that life is too damn short to spend it being unhappy.
After she fell asleep in my bed last night, I grabbed The Gremlin Files and sat with her old scrapbook in my lap, pouring through every photograph, and every doodled word. The pages were crinkled and worn and her soft, feminine scent clung to them. There was a picture of me and Mia, from years ago. She was missing her two front teeth, but smiling as big as she could at the camera. I was looking at her. The look on my face was pure joy. I stared at that picture for the longest time. I felt like that boy again, like I’d recaptured some special piece of my youth. A memory I hadn’t thought of in many years drifted into my head. It was my ninth birthday party, and after my mother sliced my birthday cake, I passed the biggest slice to Mia. My mother leaned over and kissed my cheek, and said, “you’re going to marry that girl someday.” Emotion like I hadn’t felt in years crawled up my throat, lodging a hard lump there. I’d closed the book and wandered back to bed with Mia, curling my body around hers, with a feeling I couldn’t describe for the life of me. Raw emotions over losing my mother were fresh in my mind as were my growing feelings for the woman in my arms. I awoke with a greater sense of purpose and clarity than I’d ever felt.