by Quinn, Taryn
I risked a glance up at her and pressed my aching cock into the chaise as she arched and gripped the cushion.
“What number are you on, Veronica?”
“Seventy, sixty-nine. God, what kind of witchcraft is this countdown thing?”
I grinned against her leg before crawling up her to catch her mouth in a hot, hard kiss. “Sixty-eight, was it?”
Her eyes blazed and she gritted her teeth through the sixties as I pumped my fingers inside of her lightly, then harder, then back again, searching for the right combination for this woman. The only woman I wanted to know inside and out.
She wrapped her legs tighter around my hand when she hit the forties. I followed her until she was crowded up at the head of the long chair. I stepped off to get a better angle and flipped her around onto her knees.
“Murphy,” she groaned. “God, just fuck me.”
“Keep counting.”
“Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight.” She gripped the chair and pushed back on my hand. I cupped her and growled out her name when her thigh shook, and she soaked me. I lowered to lick her from behind.
She arched and I pushed at my sweatpants. I needed to be inside of her. Fuck, this woman would end me tonight.
I stood and couldn’t get over just how gorgeous she was spread out for me, waiting for me.
Mine.
Lightly, I tapped her ass. “Lost the ability to count?”
“If you don’t get inside me in the final ten seconds, I’m going to kill you.”
I laughed and moved to the end table by my bed. I came back with a condom before she got to five. I straightened her on the couch and slammed home when she hit one.
“God, yes.”
We said it together and I pulled her hair to get her closer. She turned to me with another layer of excitement living in her eyes. I was afraid I’d gone too far, but she ground back against me and I had to bite down another oath.
“Harder,” she said with barely a breath.
I gripped her hips and let go. I pounded myself inside her oh so willing body. The frustrations of weeks of talking with her couldn’t be slaked. On top of almost a year of thinking about her, trying to get up the freaking balls to talk to her.
Wanting this and someone like her in my life.
Just wanting her, period.
I reached around to rub her clit, to drag her with me into the yawning stretch of clawing release.
She shook under me, curling herself around my hand, and I still couldn’t stop. I emptied myself into the condom until my spine fucking burned. I was out of breath as the room roared back into focus.
I lowered myself to surround her. “Veronica?”
She pulled my hand from between her legs.
“I’m sorry.” God, I shouldn’t have let go like that. She just made me feel too many things.
“Don’t be sorry.” Her voice was shaky and her skin warm to the touch. She turned in my arms and crawled up my chest. “It’s never been like that.” She cupped my face. “Ever.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“No. You made me feel so good. Too good.”
“No such thing as too good.”
“Tell that to my ruined girl parts.”
“Ruined?” I winced.
“In the very best way.”
“Oh.” I tried not to puff out my chest. But her giggle told me I had royally screwed up there.
“So proud of yourself.”
“Maybe a little.” I stretched out as much as I could. The chaise was made for bigger men, but not exactly intended for what we’d used it for. “That’s it.” I rolled off and took her with me.
“You really like carting me around.”
“Yeah, I kinda do.”
I strode with her to the bed and set her down, then took care of the condom and shut out the lights. She was already under the covers and I followed her in. She settled back into me in a perfect little spoon.
Perfect in far too many ways for me.
I wrapped around her with a sigh. “Staying?”
“As if I had any intention of leaving now? My bones are caramel.”
I tucked her hair aside and laughed into her neck. “Good.”
“That my bones are semi-liquid?”
“That you’re staying.”
“Oh…” She laced our fingers, settling them around her middle. “Yeah, I kinda like that part too.”
Thirteen
Cabin Fortress: I’m not sure how I’m supposed to work today with your smell still on my skin. It’s distracting as hell. And yes, it’s a good distraction. Make that a great one.
Getting that text while I was reluctantly dressing in Murphy’s bathroom the next morning was the best kind of surreal.
Sending back a winky smile was too.
We quarantined Latte in the small bathroom with a toy, his favorite blanket, food, and water so we could go out for a little while. He was all set, but that didn’t stop him from whining the minute we shut the bathroom door.
My heart broke as we headed out to Murphy’s truck.
“He’ll be fine,” he assured me.
“He will.”
“I’ll take a half day at work today so I can keep an eye on him. Don’t worry.”
I nodded and smiled. Good daddy material indeed.
Walking into the diner a short time later with him securely holding my hand was a few different things.
Amazing.
Incredible.
A moment I’d probably note in my Humane Association pocket calendar with an assortment of stars and a plethora of hearts.
What it wasn’t, however, was casual.
It probably would’ve been if Ivy from the baby support group meeting last night hadn’t been the one to take our orders. If she hadn’t noted the time—four-fifteen, since I had to be at Brewed Awakening by five—with a wide smile and a wink.
“Did y’all have a good night? I’m guessing you did based on your general cheerfulness at a truly heinous time of day.” She winced. “I am so not a morning person.”
I shot Murphy a glance and fiddled with my coffee-stained menu. “We did, but we’re also used to being early risers. Murphy works construction, and as I mentioned before, I’m the baker at Brewed Awakening. Sleeping in is a rarity in my world.”
Even after getting my brains banged out. And how.
Who said that the quiet guys were the ones to watch? Because holy truth bomb, right in the center of my rhododendron.
Later, I’d go back to calling it a pussy, even in my own head. Hard not to be so thoroughly debauched and still retain a layer of mental shyness. But I’d have some coffee and eggs first.
“Sadly, me too, but that’s as much because my neighbor in 3C likes to entertain her ‘gentlemen callers’,” Ivy tucked her pad under her arm and did air quotes, “at all hours.” Sighing, she grabbed her pad again. “Okay, so coffee and eggs over easy for you, Vee, and Murphy, same?”
Murphy’s ears were tinged pink, but just barely. “Yes, please, ma’am. With an extra side of sausage.”
“Look at the manners on this one. No wonder you were holding his hand when you came in here. Hold on tight.” Ivy noted the orders on her pad and walked off, still smiling a little wistfully.
I didn’t blame her. If I hadn’t been sitting with Murphy, I would’ve been wistful too.
Instead, I reached across the table and gripped his hand tight. He smiled at me, and I swear, I lit up like a damn sparkler from my heart to…the other heart between my thighs.
“It turns out I kinda have jealousy issues when it comes to you.” I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles to avoid meeting his gaze. “It’s a new thing for me. But when any female looks at you with that look, I want to squash them like a spider. And I don’t squash spiders. All living creatures have value, yadda yadda.”
“I like that you get jealous.” Even without looking up, I could hear the smile in his voice. And that made the sparklers inside me go off another dozen times.
“I get jealous too. I wanted to rip off Lucky’s arms and feed them to him when he was talking to you so much.”
“I was afraid he was Cabin Fortress.”
“Afraid?”
“I didn’t want it to be him.” I frowned, realizing how true that was. I hadn’t even allowed myself to hope my online mystery man was Murphy, because he’d never be into the whole babymaking…thing.
I was so glad to be wrong.
“No?”
“No.” I took a deep breath. “I wanted it to be you.”
“Really?” His voice warmed even more. “You’re not just saying that?”
“No. I’ve had inappropriate feelings for you for a while, Mr. Masterson.”
“Normally, I’d say keep your voice down. In this case? Could you shout it a few times? And I’ll record it, just in case you change your mind later.”
I had to laugh. “I won’t be changing my mind.” Maybe ever. And that scared me as much as it thrilled me.
Was it possible to fall for a guy in the course of one night? If I was being honest, I’d been falling for some time now. Getting to know him online had only sped it up and deepened my affection. He was a truly decent guy. Odds were I’d chase him away with my crazy moods or inappropriate timing or complete lack of skill at keeping a relationship of any sort going.
My own mother barely bothered to call. Postcards were about the extent of our communications these days. I’d come to terms with our different personalities years ago.
Probably around when she’d started calling my girly bits by the name of a flowering bush when trying to explain the boys and the bees to me at the horrifying age of seven.
“You weren’t looking for this sort of thing.”
“How do you know that?” I let out a windy sigh and rubbed his fingers again to keep myself centered. It was too easy to drift on my thoughts and not focus on the reality happening between us. “Oh, yeah, my stupid post.”
I didn’t truly think of it that way, but it was hard to not still be embarrassed. Especially when sitting with a man who might make me think about the process of making babies, but not just for the purpose of procreation.
“It wasn’t stupid. Without it, would we be here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Me either, but I don’t want to find out. I have to think it was all just…meant.” He squeezed my fingers and lifted my hand to his mouth, leaning forward to kiss it while his hazel eyes remained intent on mine.
My heart fluttered and for a second—just one—I wondered who was watching us. What they might say. I’d been the center of attention for weeks now, and I didn’t want that for Murphy. He deserved so much better.
Maybe even better than me.
“Penny for your thoughts, Veronica.”
The rumble of his voice pulled out the truth. “You’re such a good guy, Murphy.”
He let out an awkward little laugh and sat back, his hold loosening on my hand. “Let me guess. Next, you’re going to say it was fun, but we should go slow.” He jerked a shoulder. “I’m okay with that. You can call the shots on how fast we go. Or if we go at all.”
I shook my head and reaffirmed the link of our hands. Already, I wasn’t sure how I’d go through my day without his strong fingers holding mine. “No, God, no, you think I’m trying to brush you off?”
He shrugged again, saying nothing.
“Were you not there last night when I was screaming?”
“Veronica.” His flush was the absolute best. “You weren’t screaming.” He cleared his throat. “Exactly.”
“Bub, I know when I’m screaming, and trust me, I’m still hoarse today. You’ll believe it when I stick my face in this water pitcher here.”
He didn’t respond, just detangled our hands long enough to refill my glass from the pitcher. Making me smile all over again.
“No need for that. Water is free.”
I gulped it down before fumbling for his hand again. Pathetic, Dixon. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“What?”
“How we met, what happened last night, it was all so wonderful, but God, we haven’t even gone on a date. I’ve never done—all that before a date before. Hell, even before we ate dinner.”
“Me either.” He stared down at our joined hands before looking up at me again. “I have to think with the weeks online, we were building up to it. We didn’t need all the usual rituals because we’d skipped some steps.”
“Yeah. That’s logical.”
What wasn’t logical was that I wanted every step with him. Every half step, every quarter step. I didn’t want to miss a single thing when it came to my Murphy.
And see, there was another problem. Screaming for a guy didn’t make him yours.
Even if both of your hearts—the emotional one and the horny as hell one—were saying oh, yes, it does.
Ivy returned with the coffeepot and some chatter about the kitchen being backed up because the senior club had come in early and were being extra demanding today, since Mr. Ferly’s dentures were giving him trouble and he’d returned two breakfasts so far. We commiserated with her and chuckled as we sipped our steaming mugs of coffee once she’d left.
“I’m sorry this isn’t going very fast.” Murphy glanced at his watch. That he even still wore one charmed me as much as so many other things about him. “I don’t want you to start work without a good breakfast. Maybe we should—”
“Don’t worry about it.” I waved off his concern. “Lulu is working the early shift today too and she’ll get some stuff started. I’m never late. Besides, once I tell Macy I got lucky last night, she’ll give me the morning off.”
Okay, probably not, but at least she’d be cool about an extra half hour since I always pre-baked enough for the coming apocalypse. None of our customers would starve, that was for sure.
Murphy coughed into his hand. “You have that kind of relationship?”
“Sure. Women gotta stick together, man. Any night that doesn’t end in a battery-operated party is a victory for all of us.”
He grinned and shook his head. “I mean, to talk about such personal things.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s probably the closest thing I have to a bestie. I have lots of friends, just not a ton of close ones.”
“Because you’re easy to be friends with. Everyone wants to get to know you.”
I tilted my head. “You think so?”
“Of course. You’re like Sage—”
I sort of growl-coughed into my fist and his brows lifted. I set down my coffee and waved my other hand. “Wrong pipe. Carry on.”
Instead, he leaned forward, his expression intent. “Before Ivy comes back, I want you to know I’m still on board.”
My pulse started hammering hard enough that I had to take a few calming breaths.
Good luck, Dixon. You ain’t got enough lung capacity for that one.
“When you say on board,” I began carefully, “can you clarify, please?”
“In the whole making a kid thing. I want to do it. With you, I mean.” He grabbed a napkin and blotted at the puddle beneath his coffee mug. He’d bumped it with his large arm several times already. “I can’t say I ever thought about it before your post, but once I worked my way around to it, I…yes. I’d be honored to make a baby with you.”
Breathe. It’s a simple task. You’ve been doing it for two and a half decades plus now.
“Okay.”
“But it’s not enough for me to just inseminate you.”
“After last night, I’d say not. You’re a thorough sort, Murphy.” I had to tease him. Seeing that pink tinge to his ears could’ve sustained me for a week.
“Not just that, though yes.” He took a quick breath and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes, I want more of that. If you want that too.”
“Yes.” I started to say more, but my words vanished. Yes was all I could manage.
“But I want to do it the right way. Not just about sex. I want to get to know you bette
r. I want to fall asleep to your laughter. And if we’re lucky enough to make a baby… I want to be the man he or she calls Daddy.” His gaze never wavered from mine. “I don’t want you to raise the child alone. Even if we aren’t—if we don’t continue, I want to be a part of my kid’s life. I have to be, or I’m afraid I can’t do this.” His chest rose and fell with his rapid breaths. “Even though I really want to be the one for you.” His voice dropped. “So fucking much.”
My eyes grew so hot that when Ivy approached the table with our tray of food, I turned my head away. I could barely reply to her questions.
Does this look okay?
Sorry, can’t see right now. It’s probably fine.
Is your coffee hot enough? Do you want me to pour?
Throat’s too tight to drink, thanks.
You’ll let me know if you need something?
What I need is Murphy. I’m scared shitless that everything I’ve ever wanted lives inside the man sitting across from me, and I don’t know how I got so lucky. And if he ever regrets getting on this train with me, I’m not sure if I’ll ever recover.
You know, typical light morning after fare. Except not even close.
Ivy finally left and I stared at my plate of food without the first clue how to pick up my fork and eat. My stomach was growling, but it didn’t seem to matter.
I was so churned up by what Murphy had said, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to chew.
“Veronica.”
Wordlessly, I looked up at him.
“If you don’t want to go forward, we can stop right here. We’re still friends. We’ll always be friends.”
Oh, God, my throat was so thick, I could barely swallow.
“I don’t want you to cry. Dammit, that’s the last thing I would ever want.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Okay, fine, never mind. If you don’t want the rest, for you, I’ll do it. We can try to make a—”
I reared up and leaned across the table, fisting a handful of his T-shirt to pull him closer. His eyes widened about ten seconds before my boobs dragged through the eggs he’d soaked in ketchup and Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I so didn’t give a shit. I hauled him closer and kissed him hard enough to probably break his nose to go along with the foot his sweet Sage had injured at the prom.